Belinda 26: Belinda and the Cannibal Raid

BELINDA AND THE CANNIBAL RAID by Leo

As most Belinda stories do, this one will begin on the broad back patio of Belinda’s huge ranch-style mansion situated on the cliff overlooking an isolated private beach south of Miami. Oh, and the opening scene is loaded with luscious nude women, most of them happily intending to grace a dinner table in the not too distant future.

Sharon was pursuing her usual occupation of a morning after being milked and the daily exercise period. That is to say, she was loafing on a pool lounger in the sun and keeping an eye on the muffins to make sure the tasty girls weren’t doing anything possibly hazardous. That the dear delicious things were up to the occasional outrageous hijinks went without saying. Part of being a spit muffin. Totally normal, that was.

Casting an experienced eye around the patio, she noted that everybody was being rather well behaved today, playing volleyball (and with curvy and jiggly spit muffins that was fun to watch), swimming and having a little grab (plump soft) ass, or just making out. Ernestine was over on the far side of the patio, suspended from the bondage hooks, while Lois whipped her with a velvet whip. Lois was already wearing a plug-on (Note to Reader: Get the description and function of this wonderful device from other stories.), so Sharon knew Ernestine - currently squealing and writhing nicely - was going to get even louder and more active shortly, just as soon as Lois finished “whipping” and started plowing Ernie’s luscious body. Ernie was also the next in line to become dinner and Sharon was looking forward to seeing her on a cooking spit for real. The woman ought to put on a great show with plenty of jiggling and joggling of her delicious looking curves while she was having the Ultimate Orgasm.

Sharon, because it’s fun for the writer to describe her, was nearly six feet of glorious 38D-24-38 nudity in a very well toned package. At the moment, her breasts were clipped together by the nipples with a short golden chain and silenced golden bell that marked her as the overseer of the spit muffin herd inhabiting Belinda’s Meat Ranch and Dairy. Sharon liked the nipple chain because it gave her great cleavage even while nude.

Sharon had an assistant, Rena, a nicely figured woman with short platinum blonde hair and a huge set of hooters that actually stood out without surgical enhancement. (Mother Nature can be wonderful some times.) Rena’s tit-chain-plus-silenced-bell was silver to announce the fact that she was second in line as the Muffin Boss. Like Sharon, she considered that a full time job that occasionally strained her tolerance, not to mention her disbelief. At the moment, she was belly down on the lounger next to Sharon, her full gorgeous ass in easy reach of Sharon’s right hand so she could enjoy having it stroked and occasionally squeezed. She also very much enjoyed having Sharon fuck it with a plug-on at any and every opportunity.

At that inopportune moment, Rosa, a short exuberantly curved Hispanic honey blonde and one of the two woman permanent staff of the Ranch, came bouncing out in search of Sharon. Rosa was actually walking normally, it’s just that her anatomy tended to bounce. As Sharon lowered her sun glasses for a moment to take in the sight, Rosa announced, “Sharon, Belinda want you inside. Sounds like she got somet’in going again.”

All three women (Sharon, Rena, and Rosa) sighed. Whenever Belinda “got somet’in going again”, it was bound to be complicated, interesting (in the way a train wreck was interesting), and basically unbelievable. Best to see what was about to transpire and hope it wasn’t way too unbelievable.

Inside, Sharon and the other two found Belinda standing in the middle of the huge living room, her arms crossed over her full breasts and her right index finger extended and supporting her chin in her favorite thinking posture. (Because it’s even more fun to do so than describing Sharon, the writer will now describe Belinda. She’s forty something, short, utterly curvaceous, with glowing satiny skin and short blonde hair. Belinda never just walked, she bustled, and when she did, every fantastic curve in her fantastically curved body was in motion. Whenever she bustled by, Sharon’s - and everybody else’s - moth got dry and pussy got wet.) Belinda was a genius grade chemist with a doctorate from MIT and a dotty personality. Sharon was well aware of the fact that she was Belinda’s balance wheel, but seeing Belinda Think Up Something made her shudder, slightly.

Apparently, Pink (a.k.a. Belinda’s Pink Pussy - and yes, he WAS pink in the right light), the house cat, had already decided things were about to go into Goofball Drive. He was up on one of the wall cabinets, safely out of blast range. He glanced with his usual bland arrogance at Sharon, studied Rena’s delicious meat for a few moments, then went back to monitoring the situation. Pink felt women made far better cat food than horses. Maybe someone would cook someone else and he’d get a good meal.

Sharon and Pink had a tolerant relationship of mutual understanding - they detested each other.

“Dearest,” Belinda said to Sharon, her voice like the sound of tinkling bells, “I’ve just had a call from Rocco. It seems the Organization has become aware of a problem in town. Things have gotten a touch complicated for them since Tony’s death and Rocco said the problem has had time to grow a bit out of hand while they got things settled and he took over the reins. He says it’s more in our area, so he’s asked me to handle it for them.”

“What sort of problem, Belinda?” Sharon asked.

“Well, dearest,” Belinda replied, “it appears that someone here in town is making innocent women disappear - along with their bank accounts. Since one body - mutilated and tortured, in fact - was found in the Glades, Rocco thinks that someone is just killing the girls, torturing them to death and not eating them as nature intended. I consider that horrible, of course. I hate abusing women and it’s such a waste of delicious meat. I simply have to take action.”

OK, it was the “action” part that bothered Sharon. “So who is it and what do we do?”

“The who part is easy, lover,” Belinda said absently. “I’m still mulling the what.

“However,” she continued, “Rocco’s boys have targeted the someone, a woman named Gladys and four of her female accomplices. They operate a travel agency downtown. It seems that when ever one of their clients is suitable, they take a trip, but not one the client expected.”

“Oh,” Sharon said. Yep, a scam like that one would truly irk Belinda. Not only were innocent women being targeted, Gladys & Co. were reducing the pool of possible free range meat. That was plenty of reason to take action.

Belinda’s gaze fastened on two of the most prominent objects in the room, Rena’s breasts. Sharon could see The Light Dawn. “Rena, dear,” she said, “I’m afraid you and I will have to get dressed, and not in bikinis.”

Seeing Rena’s expression, Belinda hastened to apply soothing balm. “Oh, not for more than a trip into town, love. You and I will visit this travel agency, just to get a better look. I’ll be there to set things up, but I want you - and your breasts - there as a distraction. I don’t what them thinking too much while I arrange a little trap. Please don’t wear a bra.”

Since Rena - due to the size of her breasts - hated bras, this was on the plus side of the ledger. She nodded at Belinda’s instructions. She actually enjoyed hunting bitches (Belinda’s hobby, way of getting free range meat, and stated method of cleaning the gene pool) and had been the bait in more than one bitch trap.

“Meanwhile,” Belinda decisively continued her orders, “Rosa, I want you to call Horatio over at Miami PD and tell him not to concern himself further about the disappearances. We are now on the case and closing on the villain.

“Sharon, dearest,” she said as Sharon visibly braced herself, “please contact Rocco and borrow some submachine guns. I’m sure you’ll know the type that would be best. Then have someone work up some ninja suits and ski masks for all of the girls except Ernie. I’ve got something different for her. Also tell Ixinza to dig out the cannibal tribe costumes and fit them to all of the girls.”

Sharon wondered what the hell was currently making it’s erratic way through Belinda’s mind this time. Ninja suits? Submachine guns? Cannibal costumes? Oh, this is shaping up to be a dilly. “Can’t we just go grab Gladys and her pack, bring them back here, and roast them? We’ve got room in the basement cage for plenty of fresh meat.”

Belinda dimpled in one of her dazzling smiles. “Where would be the fun in that, dearest? It’s so pedestrian. I’m sure you will enjoy what I have in mind.”

Gauging Sharon’s expression and Rena’s lack of wild joy at having to wear clothes, Belinda decided on a little first aid. “Lover,” she added, “we don’t have to rush into action yet. I want to go visit Gladys this afternoon so we have some time on our hands. Why don’t you take Rena in back and bang her butt for a while? That should put you in the proper mood to execute my plan.”

Reaching over and fondling Rena’s plump buttock and receiving a quick kiss in reply, Sharon decided that not all of Belinda’s ideas were totally whacky.

Gladys, it turned out, was a medium tall thirty-something brunette with a plus sized but well toned and highly curved body that would feed a tailgate party with plenty left over. She had large, expressive eyes, tastefully highlighted by mascara, in a classically beautiful face.

It was the eyes that gave Gladys away, Rena thought. They exposed her as a predator, but that went without saying and wasn’t worth a second thought. No, it was the evil and viciousness that lurked in their depths, just waiting to leap out.

Eyeing Gladys’s exuberant figure, Rena decided the woman would be perfect for a backyard barbecue for a whole neighborhood. Big breasts, big ass, and very meaty - if nicely toned - legs made up every woman eater’s dream girl.

She also had a breast fixation, Rena decided as she watched the woman’s fascination with her own bobbing giant globes under the tastefully expensive blouse. (The fact that her matching tight miniskirt and stiletto heels showed off her long shapely legs added to the picture.) A quick study of the other four confirmed the fact. All of Gladys’s crew were in the “busty” category, with the rest of their bodies nicely rounded to match. Actually, they all looked like good candidates for the Ranch’s dairy under other circumstances.

“So you see, Gladys,” Belinda was saying, “I’m not really here to arrange a trip, but to promote my island in the Keys. I’m considering using it for private - very private - vacations for select visitors that seek seclusion.”

Gladys wrenched her attention back to Belinda. That attention was warranted, since Belinda had encased her marvelous body in a sheer white silk blouse and tight black slacks, accessorized by about $50,000 worth of diamond jewelry. What this dotty rich woman was saying promised not only money, but possibilities for her own sadistic impulses. “That sounds interesting Ms. LeGacyl. Of course, we haven’t seen the property, but I’m still getting ideas as to how we could market it.”

Belinda waived a delicate and expensively manicured hand, airily dismissing Gladys’s concerns. “Oh, I quite understand, love,” she replied. “So if you could see your way to closing your office this weekend, I’ll use my personal plane to fly you and your four coworkers down to enjoy the beach and my accommodations, all expenses paid as my guests.”

Belinda made another elegant wave at Rena. “My assistant Rena and her secretary Ernestine will accompany you.”

“Remember that the beach is very private,” Rena added in sultry tones, accompanying her comment with a smoldering look that took in all five intent and very attractive - not to say delicious looking - women. “Bring your most daring swimsuits.” Her statement and the visions it produced momentarily stunned and silenced Gladys and her girls. The fact that Rena inhaled and moved just enough to bobble her breasts added emphasis.

By the time Rena strolled out, softly swaying next to Belinda’s bustling figure, she figured they had them. Given her own projections of raw sex and Belinda’s knockout body, Rena was sure there wasn’t a dry pussy in the office.

Coming out of the beach house on Belinda’s island, Rena was sure that her more or less… well, less… bikini was going to live up to the wild hopes of her guests. In fact, Ernie, no slouch herself in the curvy and succulent body department, was wearing one like it and was devastating. The suits were custom made at the Ranch by Rosa. Given Rena’s outstandingly huge jugs, hers had to be. The top gave support to her breasts, but covered not much more than most of the nipple. Anytime she moved, for instance, she was flashing some lucky person without being quite blatant.

The bottom wasn’t the usual T back, like Gladys’s girls were wearing. The front, of course, was low but just managed to cover enough of her hairless pubic mound to be barely (very barely) legal. The back was a small triangle of cloth showing off the bottom quarter of each buttock and cut low enough that she had two or three inches of rear cleavage showing. Really a neat design. Rosa was a genius.

When she and Ernie strolled casually out onto the beach, Rena could see the other five women’s tongues just lock up.

Gladys, for her part, was wearing what could pass for a one piece if one stretched the meaning far enough. A good number of openings showed various stretches of smooth skin while the bodice was cut very low, just above nipple height, and the sides were minimal enough to display a generous expanse of even more generous ass flesh. She was also staring at Rena and Ernie, slightly stunned. Those women were fantastic! Unbidden, visions of pins through Rena’s nipples and clamps on various sensitive parts swam upward into her imagination. For that matter, there were those things several of her girls could do with skinning knives.

Gladys sighed and put away her imagination. First, she didn’t have her equipment and none of her girls had their skinning knives. Second, she had to forego such pleasures because Rena and Ernestine worked for that LeGacyl woman. Everything had to be sweet and nice so she could come back here again and use this wonderful place for her own amusements.

It was perfect, too. According to Rena, that big spooky old house off in the distance was normally closed up except when Belinda’s family came down for reunions. Second, the large modern beach house was a great place to get away from it all, with enough bedrooms for at least ten or twelve guests. With that house, she could bring down any number of women at one time for a mass session of unbridled sadism and nobody except the sharks eating the bodies would ever know.

Gladys set herself to be good. With another look at Rena and Ernestine she decided both were very much open to sexual games. Good thing, too. Those giant sized jugs on Rena simply made her teeth itch and pussy damp. She hoped Rena was good with her tongue. That was the only thing in normal sex that made her orgasm. She was technically a virgin in that she’d never let anyone penetrate her body with anything, even a finger. Her fetish was inflicting extreme pain. The orgasms from that were massive!

Well, everyone was here on the beach, suitably undressed, Gladys decided. Time to find out just how good Rena’s tongue was. The girls could have Ernestine.

A burst of gunfire upset her plans.

Figures dressed in totally in black and wearing ski masks emerged from the thick growth of tropical foliage fringing the beach and walked with deadly purpose towards the seven barely dressed women. The lead figure waved a submachine gun across the stunned women and demanded in a hard voice, “Freeze! Put your hands behind your head! Not a sound! I’ll shoot the first one that talks!” The figure made the point by firing another burst into the sand at Gladys’s feet.

All seven immediately assumed the designated position.

There were seven of the black dressed ninjas and, while the speaker’s gun muzzle held the women frozen in terror, the other six produced knives and began cutting away swimsuits. The women were quickly stripped naked. Then they were herded together, hands bound behind them with plastic ties, and other ties were fastened around their thighs as hobbles.

Sharon breathed a sigh of relief. At least this part was going well. If she was lucky, Maddie and Dolores would have the Gomez’s old converted lifeboat here and grounded on the sand in a few minutes. Then they could load up and get on to the next - and main - part of Belinda’s fantastic scheme.

Putting this thing together, once Belinda explained it in her usual erratic and cognitively challenging fashion, was a nightmare and challenged all of her ingenuity. First, the ninja suits weren’t real ninja suits. None to be had - and Rosa needed more than a couple of days to make some for the muffins. Fortunately, the company that made the black chef’s outfits for Golden Corral was nearby in south Florida. Quick phone call, overnight shipping, black patches sewn over the embroidered logos, and suddenly they were ninja suits. The black ski masks were a major problem. Ever try to find a ski mask in Miami? Internet and overnight shipping to the rescue. The guns weren’t a problem. Sharon had her own sub gun, an H&K MP5, and got the non-firing others from a prop rental agency in town that supplied all of those Miami drug and crime shows. A quick call acting as an associate producer, plenty of money, and that problem was fixed. She wanted non-firing prop guns because she wasn’t about to trust any of the muffins, no matter how enthusiastic, with live ammunition. The damn nut cases were just as likely to accidentally shoot each other as anything that needed shooting. At least the village on the other side of the island was still ready since the last time they’d used it for one of Belinda’s crazy games. Rosa and Ixinza were there applying last minute finishing touches, too.

OK, she thought as she studied the mass of delicious woman meat trembling before her as they looked around with panicked eyes, now to load them up and move on to the next, and much more fun, part. At least Gladys and her girls had shaved pussies so they wouldn’t have to go through the hair removal chore.

The trip around the island was enjoyable for Sharon. The lifeboat was designed to hold forty, so the sixteen women in it had plenty of room. That is, the faux ninjas did. Their captives were herded together in the center, soft bare hips and thighs pressed together.

Sharon moved from stern to bow as Dolores steered, to get a good look at their prizes. From the stern, the vista was smooth naked backs and bare plump buttocks spreading softly and appetizingly on the benches. From the bow, Sharon could get a good look at mouthwatering thighs, bobbing full breasts, and the worried expressions on the faces of the bound naked women as they looked around and at each other, wondering fearfully what was going to happen to them. Rena and Ernie were right in there with the others, too. Rena was doing a creditable job of acting but Ernie was hamming it up outrageously. Good thing Ernie was going to be in a spit before she had a chance to overdo it.

The boat grounded on the beach to the accompaniment of terrified gasps from a bunch of naked full bodied women. Sharon allowed it was worth a gasp or two. Two rows of huts faced each other across a wide area with a huge wicker chair on a platform, acting as a throne, on the far side of the open space between the huts. A variety of big barbecue pits, large black kettles, frames of ominous types, and a huge bamboo cage filled the rest of the open ground before the throne.

Rosa and Ixinza were standing at the water’s edge wearing suitable scowls and what Belinda considered a proper cannibal tribe outfit, i.e. nothing but a so-called grass skirt that was so minimal it was more of a large belt and a plastic bone in the hair over their foreheads. Of course, they were also carrying long spears with a fringe at the base of the blade that complimented their look. Accessorizing was important.

The nude women were herded off the boat and up to a long bench in front of the throne. Six penis shaped shafts stuck up from it, gleaming ominously with olive oil. More worried gasps.

These turned into a wide variety of screams, moans and squeals as each woman was lifted up by a couple of the muffin/ninjas and sat precisely down on one of the prongs with the smooth wooden shaft a good eight or so inches up her ass. Sharon smiled behind her mask. This made her job easier. None of those women could even stand up, much less make a break for it, not with their wrists tied behind them, their thighs bound together, and a long wooden prick up their butts. Gladys took more energy than her girls or Ernie, but not much more. She was plus sized, not fat.

The idea behind the pricks wasn’t just to immobilize the women; they were also fitted with nozzles and vibrators. Once a switch or two was thrown, Gladys & Co. were about to get anal injections of Belinda’s patented sex drug, plus a few others. By the time they came off, they’d be twice as horny as a long term muffin and that was saying a lot.

Oh, and the buzzing in their asses would keep them distracted and on the edge of a nice pop off, too.

There were seven naked victims but only six prongs and the reason was made obvious a moment later. Sharon cut the ties binding Rena, who thanked her gratefully while rubbing her wrists and massaging her gorgeous legs.

More gasps at Rena’s obvious treachery.

No comments, however. Sharon stood in front of the bench and glared at the remaining naked and impaled women with her most intimidating glare, which, given it was Sharon, was pretty intimidating. All six knew that Silence Was Golden here.

While all of this was going on, one by one the muffin/ninjas slipped quietly away to doff their suits and don their cannibal tribe outfits. Spears with plastic tips this time, at Sharon’s express order. Heaven only knew what a muffin would unintentionally do with a real spear, and to who. Sharon had no desire to continually have to stop things and dig an accidental steel spear point out of someone’s anatomy, meanwhile listening to the spearer’s tearful apology to the accidental spearee. Gladys, for one, didn’t notice the quiet change in the threatening group around her, just an impression that the tribe (or whatever it was) was starting to gather.

Sharon judged it was about time for the Cannibal Queen to show up. Good enough. She was ready to junk this play acting and eat someone, Gladys by preference. That woman looked really juicy.

Belinda’s entrance, as could be expected from Belinda, was spectacular. She strolled, NOT bustled, from around one of the huts to her throne wearing an old fashioned jungle explorer’s pith hat and crossed pistol belts holding taser pistols.

That was all Belinda was wearing. The rest of her heart stopping gorgeous body was marvelously, exuberantly nude. Her luscious curves weren’t jiggling from her normal bustling movement, but sensuously flowing with her feline stride.

Sharon expected the effect of Belinda’s walk, as momentarily eye fixating and tongue hardening as it was, but the rest was also a bit stunning. She had two leashes in one hand, attached to collars on the appropriate wrists of two women: soft, plush and deliciously strokeable Dawn (1), the real Ranch pet, and Dawn (1)’s best friend, plain faced and dynamite bodied Dawn (2). More detailed descriptions of the two Dawns may be found in previous stories. The other hand held a bullwhip. Belinda, not really to Sharon’s surprise, proved an expert with the damned thing. Belinda had an interesting background.

Sharon really wanted to learn how to use the bullwhip and Belinda promised to teach her later. Ought to be fun.

Once she got past the - admittedly stunning - obvious, Sharon saw something that nearly blew her mind. Pink. The damned cat was sauntering at Belinda’s feet with a miniature bone attached to his erect tail about two inches back from the tip. Sharon felt like closing her eyes and pleading for strength. Even the damned cat was getting into this goofball show!

Belinda moved with theatrical elegance to seat herself on the throne. Once she was seated, legs elegantly crossed and arms resting on her throne’s arms, Dawn (1) and Dawn (2) each lay themselves gracefully on raised platforms on either side of the throne where they’d be comfortably available for the Cannibal Queen to stroke (or do other things) while she deliberated the fate of her captives.

The whole picture wasn’t lost on Gladys & Co. Along with obvious stunned admiration and lust (aided by the happily buzzing vibrators deep up their asses) the worry quotient sailed higher.

“Welcome to my little village,” Belinda said. Despite her sweet tinkling voice, her purring tone was full of menace. “As you may guess, my tribe has plans for you.” She inserted a finger under Dawn (1)’s plush buttocks and up into her. Dawn had obviously been prepped. The finger glistened when Belinda pulled it out and slowly put it in her mouth to suck clean in gracefully erotic fashion.

Sharon pulled off her ski mask (damned pain in the ass) and addressed Belinda. “We have all of them here for your disposal, Your Majesty.” The sentence almost made her choke, but she managed to get it out. Then she favored the impaled six with a glare. Sharon’s unmasked glare was even more intimidating than her masked glare, so the naked and bound women - even Gladys - were suitably subdued.

Sharon took off her ninja suit, managing to casually hold the MP5 in the general direction of her terrified captives while she did it. Underneath, she was wearing a pair of calf-high pointed toe boots and a black satin copy of Rena’s (now removed) bikini bottom, showing plenty of pubic mound and rear cleavage. When she’d originally tried on the getup back at the Ranch and studied herself in a mirror, she’d purred. The boots and bottom, added to her tall, toned, 38D-24-38 figure made a perfect Evil Minion outfit.

Sharon, now revealed as the Evil Minion of the Cannibal Queen, swept the quivering (caused by terror and vibrators) women with an arrogant glare. “Very nice meat here.”

Taking her cue, Ernestine screamed. Then she began yelling at Belinda. “You can’t do this! I work for you! You have no right to treat me this way!” And so on, at the top of her voice.

Belinda scowled (it was a rather entrancing scowl, actually) at Ernie and lifted an imperious finger to point at her. “Take this one immediately. Spit her for our dinner tonight.”

Sharon waved at a few of the muffins, who promptly lifted Ernie off her vibrator and carried the screaming but actually overjoyed woman off, presumably for preparation purposes as a roast. More gasps from Gladys & Co.

Gladys and her girls jerked their heads away from the forcibly departing Ernestine and back to Belinda at the “Queen’s” next words.

“As you can see Gladys,” Belinda’s sweet tones utterly menacing, “you aren’t the only one with plans for women that were expecting a vacation. It’s simply that my plans trump yours, dear. As Queen, I have heavy responsibilities… and one of them is that my tribe needs to be amused and fed.” Sharon and the rest of the tribal muffins grinned.

Gladys turned white. Not only was her private racket, created to satisfy her own perverted lusts, known to this crazy woman, but the future Did Not Look Good. The rest of her girls also got the idea about the same time and turned very, very pale. To the sexual squirming they were doing, caused by the vibrators (and, unbeknownst to them, sex drugs being pumped up their asses) was added an even greater trembling.

Sharon, Belinda, and the muffins enjoyed the trembling and squirming, given that it caused various interesting portions of bare female anatomy to become even more interesting. There was some great meat anally impaled on that bench.

“Stand them up,” Belinda imperiously ordered Sharon. “I wish to judge their flesh.”

Working her way down the line, Belinda stroked nicely rounded bellies, soft hips, slid a hand around to stroke and heft a plump buttock, grasp and gently compress tender inner thighs in a hand, and generally test every highly edible part of the delicious women. She finished each test by pushing her hand between plump thighs and a finger up a wet pussy, each time tasting the girl juice in the same erotic gesture as she stared into the eyes of the terrified future dinner(s). All the while, she made soft professional sounds of careful consideration and evaluation that did absolutely nothing to relax the woman under scrutiny. Although, to be honest, all of the captives rolled their eyes, bit their bottom lip, and had one or more small orgasms during Belinda’s evaluation. Especially during the pussy test.

When she came to Gladys and repeated the process (to the great enjoyment of all concerned including, to her surprise, Gladys) Belinda discovered something surprising. “Well dear,” she pronounced with some (evil) amusement, “it appears you are a virgin. Take heart, that’s not going to last much longer.”

The women were replaced on their bench plus anal vibrators as Belinda returned to her throne and considered the five delicious (confirmed by taste test) prospective meals. With eyes wide in near panic, they watched as Belinda idly played with her whip and let her eyes roam over the expanse of nude soft flesh in front of her. Ixinza came over to the throne and whispered in Belinda’s ear, saying Ernie was nearly ready for her ride on a spit. Rosa had lit the fire in the barbecue pit further down behind the seated captives and was tending the wood as it burned down to coals.

Needless to say, Gladys & Co. couldn’t see the pit from their position, but they could hear the flames and smell the smoke. Gladys also mentally judged this Not a Good Thing. Gladys was frantically telling herself nobody really spit roasted women. This all had to be an act! Herself was telling Gladys the act idea was bullshit. She was going to be steaks, chops, and a pussy platter sooner or later.

Belinda waved to her Evil Minion, and said, “Dearest, please place these women at the table. They need to be opened and also enjoy the barbecue.”

She softly smiled at her captives. “Which I’m sure you will, ladies.”

Under Sharon’s direction, the captives were lifted off their vibrators and hustled to a rather strange long table facing the barbecue pit. The table looked strange because there was a plank out of the lengthwise portion of the table top. The women were bent over the table, toes barely touching the sand, and asses and pussies nicely positioned for proper use. Their big breasts hung down through the open middle of the table. A rod was slid through brackets at either end, holding the captives in their bent over position. Mention should be made of the fact that the captives were so close together that their soft hips and thighs pressed against each other.

The purpose of the missing part was shortly revealed when Ixinza slipped under the table and attached the cups of milking machines to the soft large breasts hanging delectably above her. Nobody expected these women to give milk. However, the milk machines would give the captives each a soft gently rhythmical suction on breasts grown sensitive from erotic stimulation (plus drugs). Low moans followed the startup of the milking machines and continued thereafter. A lot of wriggling and moaning, in fact.

Behind the women, Belinda surveyed the line of plump vulnerable thighs squirming soft flesh against each other and equally squirming asses waiting to be penetrated as she removed her pistol belts and donned her plug on, insuring the plugs in her pussy and ass were securely in place. Around her, Sharon and the muffins also got theirs on (and in).

Meanwhile, Rosa and Ixinza brought out Ernie, securely bound (including her breasts to keep them from flopping as she rotated), mounted on her spit and headed for the barbecue pit. There were minor screams and gasps from the captives as they momentarily lost concentration on the machines sucking their tender nipples. When Ernestine plus spit was placed on the barbecue supports, the sounds from the captives got louder, to include the occasional “Oh, no, no!” As Ernestine began the cooking process, Rosa would occasionally turn the spit a little to ensure that the heat kissed her deliciously rounded nude body evenly. Between turns, she based the roast with a long basting brush, paying particular attention to breasts, thighs, pussy and ass. Great results from that.

Ernestine wasn’t actually fully spitted from pussy to mouth by a thick solid carbon cooking spit. It just looked that way to everyone else and felt that way to her. In reality, she was on a two part spit connected by an extremely powerful magnetic field (again, see previous stories, it’s there). Aside from not harming the spitted girl, the two part spit had several benefits. The bottom half had a powerful vibrator at it’s tip, said tip being about eight inches up Ernestine’s pussy and giving her no end of fun. The front half was padded with a soft, easy to bite, long tip that just entered her throat without blocking her vocal cords. This was important in that it let Ernestine sound off while she was being roasted in role play, one of her favorite recreations, and she did a LOT of sounding off. The music she was making was wonderful.

Meanwhile, around the back of Gladys, Belinda was preparing to deal with the hymen problem in the least painful and messy fashion. The front half of Gladys was fully occupied with listening in fascinated horror to the screams, squeals, and such issuing from the woman being roasted alive while her breasts were really digging the milking sensation. Belinda took a long skewer and inserted it up Gladys’s plump pussy puncturing her hymen with no pain, fuss, or muss. Gladys barely noticed the metal rod up her cunt, so preoccupied was she by the woman cooking in front of her and the tremendously wonderful mechanical pumping of her full breasts.

Gladys noticed the next part, however, as the soft thick lubricated plastic shaft of the plug-on entered her body and slid smoothly and deeply inside her. She screamed in shock, not noticing similar screams issuing from the other four captives as Sharon, Rena, and two of the muffins began to give their own delicious meat girls a good fuck. As the plastic shaft slid deeper into her and began to pump, Gladys couldn’t help herself. She continued to scream, but the noise slowly became sexual - and just as loud. She really let go during the first of several major orgasms.

Belinda, by the way, was also an expert with the plug-on and very energetic with it. With the way Gladys was writhing under the pounding of her pussy, the plugs in Belinda’s own ass and pussy were moving and squirming and producing the most wonderful orgasmic sensations. Gladys was turning out to be a great ride.

Between Ernestine and the captives, the village air was filled with wonderful female music. Ernestine was squirming, wriggling, sounding off continually, writhing, and going into full body clenching orgasms at the heat kissing her body and the feel of the spit through her. Not to mention the vibrations in her pussy. Ernestine was performing a spectacular pole dance.

When Gladys felt Belinda pull the shaft pull out of her cunt, it was almost a relief after the multiple orgasms she’d had. However, when she felt the sloppy wet tip of the plug-on’s shaft push its way smoothly between her plump buttocks and nestle at her little bottom hole, her eyes got wide and she tried (hoarsely) to add another scream of horror to the sound effects. Her eyes got wider and her so-called scream turned into a huge gasp as the shaft pushed smoothly - and very deeply - into her bowels.

Belinda figured, rightly, that Gladys was already broken in by her previous session with an anal vibrator, so she dispensed with the preliminaries and pushed the shaft of her plug-on as deep as she could get it into the plush ass she intended to fuck, ending up with her bare hips deeply compressing the soft flesh of Gladys’s buttocks. Then she started to give the bound naked woman’s butt a real pounding. Belinda intended to give Gladys plenty of heavy duty orgasms before she was cooked. For one thing, it made the meat taste better.

All Gladys could feel was the sucking on her sensitive nipples and eight or nine inches of thick shaft pumping smoothly in and out of her ass. Then she looked up and caught sight of Ernestine’s spitted body, rotating over the coals, glistening with basting oil, squirming and writhing erotically, and convulsing with orgasms. Gladys could hear the sounds Ernestine was making and smell the wonderful smell of cooking woman meat. She couldn’t help herself. She began to add more screams to a village air already full of them and slam her ass back against the naked hips that were already pounding her big, soft butt.

The smell, by the way, was coming from a grill hidden behind the huts where a thigh and a couple of drumsticks from a delicious muffin named Lois were slowly cooking for the night’s meal, but it was heavenly.

With a thick plastic penis pumping in and out of her ass, the sights of a spit roasting women, the sounds, and the smells, Gladys was dropping into an erotic delirium that totally engulfed her mind.

Finally, there was a small break in the action, then things got hot again. Belinda, Sharon and the others rotated between the delectable hind ends presented for deep insertion. Once someone had been through all five bent over and bound women, they stepped away and let another muffin have some fun. All five captives were literally fucked flat before it was over, leaving them gaping wide and sloppy wet in both holes. It was nearly dark by that time.

Once everyone had a chance at all of the captives, Belinda signaled for the women to be lifted up (they were all totally limp and exhausted) and carried to the big cage. A delirious Ernestine plus spit was also removed to another hut around back, out of view of the cage so she could be washed clean of oil and recover. After that, Sharon posted a guard over the cage and everyone else trooped around to the hidden grill to enjoy a nice relaxing beach cook out, made up of Lois’s delicious meat, grilled veggies of various types, and some cool drinks.

After a pleasant dinner, Rena brought out her guitar and they all sang some songs in a pleasantly low tone. Rosa even borrowed the guitar and she and Ixinza sang a few Spanish songs, joined by Belinda’s fluent Spanish.

A wonderful evening was had by all. Even the captives, in a manner of speaking. They’d passed out and were likely to stay that way until dawn.

Sharon had to admit it was a great ending to a great day. Something was bothering her, however. She sought out Belinda. “Belinda, what are we going to do with all of those women? I absolutely refuse to take any of them back to the Ranch.”

“Oh, I agree, dearest,” Belinda replied with a tinkling laugh. “I refuse to pollute my home with those torturers. Gladys will go on a spit. With her meaty body, she’ll feed all of us with a good bit left over. I’m thinking about bringing out some smaller pots, filling them with oil, and deep frying their pussies and asses. That’s a taste I’m quite interested in trying.”

Sharon frowned with a worried expression. “Belinda, I can’t believe I’m saying this, given what Gladys and her girls have done, but if we cook those four live, it would be incredibly painful. I really don’t like causing them that much pain. I’d feel like we were descending to their level. I couldn’t handle that.”

Belinda’s sweet smile at Sharon held real love and affection. “You needn’t worry, lover. I feel exactly the same way. We’ll solve the problem with chemistry.”

Sharon reminded herself that Belinda was a genius grade chemist and had gotten filthy rich off her patents.

“We’ll apply the usual stimulant to their pussies,” Belinda continued softly. “That will transmute pain to pleasure. In addition, I have a concentrated derivative of Digitalis that will elevate their heart rate enormously once they’re frying, with no other side effects. They will be continually in a state of orgasm. When the really big ones hit after a little while, they’ll each have a massive heart attack and be gone in a matter of moments. They’ll literally expire from pleasure.”

Sharon nodded with a smile. “Works for me.”

The next morning dawned bright and sunny, a fact unappreciated by Gladys & Co. who were still out from the previous day’s exertions. When they did awaken to Rosa’s urging, things went downhill fast.

The captives, unbound when they’d been put in the cage, were marched out to a large frame that looked like a low swing set frame made of bamboo. There they had wrists and ankles bound together with ties. Then they were suspended from the overhead bar at a convenient level by those same wrists and ankles. Seen from the back, their meaty but shapely legs and buttocks framed pussies and bottom holes exposed and available for anything.

This turned out to be not such a bad thing as far as the captives were concerned, because various tribe members passing by took a few moments to nibble the previously mentioned exposed pussies. More gasping, moaning, and other sound effects.

As the time drew towards noon, Ixinza and Rosa brought over a small work table, then used what looked like a huge cake decorator to stuff their pussies with a mixture of chopped girl meat and rice. Moaning and orgasms. All five plump hairless pussies were brushed with a sexual stimulant. Moaning and orgasms again. Then Gladys’s girls got a long tube up their asses and a massive anal infusion of a variety of appropriate drugs. After that, all five asses were stuffed with peeled and appropriately carved sweet potatoes. Louder moaning and more orgasms. Finally, all five butts were plugged with carrots. Gladys’s Co. didn’t know enough to let that last worry them. At the moment, floating in a sea of sexual endorphins, they didn’t really care, either.

Watching the process with interest, Sharon decided those women were so full of post-orgasm endorphins that their meat ought to be truly succulent.

Belinda strolled over, back in her jungle queen pith helmet, crossed pistol belts, and carrying her bull whip. Otherwise gloriously, wonderfully, tongue hardeningly nude, to Sharon’s enjoyment. Sharon was back in her Evil Minion boots and erotic black satin bikini bottom. They made a perfect pair, Sharon decided.

Belinda surveyed the five, fore and aft, then walked around to Gladys’s front end. “Dear,” she told Gladys, “you look delicious. Quite tender, in fact.”

Gladys didn’t know quite how to take that compliment, especially as she suspected just what it mean and what was going to happen because of it. However, she was feeling light headed and disoriented. It was very hard to concentrate, in fact. (One of Belinda’s drugs at work, not to mention the previous series of tongues on, and in, her pussy.) Gladys decided to just go with the flow. “Thanks, I think,” she replied, trying to be matter-of-fact about being hung naked by her ankles and wrists. “What are you going to do with us?” Silly question, but it had to be asked.

Belinda smiled sweetly. “Oh, love, I have a number of amusing activities planned. You, for instance, are going to be spit roasted. We’re setting up some pots for your girls.”

Ordinarily, Gladys would start screaming at that point. However, the drugs had her mind so screwed up, she finally decided the effort wasn’t worth it. “Shucks.”

Whatever the other four captives thought about the conversation, they were quiet. Drugs at work again. They did, however, notice they were feeling a bit breathless.

Belinda turned, to note that her entire tribe of muffins (including Ernie, not that Gladys & Co. noticed) was grouped nearby, eagerly awaiting her Royal Command. “Well, ladies,” she Royally Commanded, “let’s get this meat on to cook.”

Cheers.

Pink, seated on the sand at Belinda’s feet, was also happy. Judging from the scents he could smell wafting from the five, he was going to get a very tasty meal. He also liked the little bone attached to his tail. It made him a full participant in this little escapade. Besides, it also meant he was going to get a share of a tasty meal before this day was over.

Gladys was lifted off her suspension and laid flat on her back on a nearby table. Her big breasts were bound together so they wouldn’t flop. Then she was turned on her belly for proper spitting. Ixinza and Rosa were doing the work, an old familiar process both considered fun.

First, the front half of the spit. Gladys had never given a blow job (considered it distasteful), much less deep throated anyone, but the soft plastic covering of the spit wasn’t all that hard to take.

Next, the back half of the spit. Gladys felt a long soft plastic shaft pushed up - far up - her pussy. That was the spit cover, added for the meat girl’s comfort. Then Ixinza and Rosa cut the tie binding Gladys’s ankles and rebound them onto the spit with cooking twine. The cutting and tie process was repeated for her wrists, binding her arms to her sides. With a big smile, Rosa turned on the spit’s power. Suddenly, Gladys felt like she had a stiff strong rod through her body from cunt to mouth, the effect of the ultra strong magnetic field holding both halves in position. The same switch activated the electric tingler on the end of the bottom half and Gladys started to feel the most wonderful tingles running through her cunt and the whole bottom half of her body. She rolled her eyes upward and moaned to the first of many orgasms she was going to feel.

Belinda firmly believed in making the cooking process pleasant for the meat. Not only was it proper that the girl enjoy a process that was going to provide everyone with a great dinner, orgasms vastly improved the taste of a woman’s delicious body.

With Gladys on her spit and over the glowing coals, it was time to get the other four on to cook. Unnoticed by the four (at the moment, they wouldn’t have noticed a freight train passing ten feet away), four clear Pyrex pots, medium sized as far as cooking female meat went, were set over a metal framework and filled with oil about half way up. Dry wood was piled under the pots, to be lit once each pot held a plump, wiggly woman. The idea behind lighting off the wood after adding the meat was that the heat would slowly rise, giving each girl time to put on a good show before she - and Gladys - were gone. After that, of course, more wood would be added to finish the cooking.

Each of Gladys’s girls was efficiently removed from her suspension, had her ankle tie cut, and placed in a pot butt-down with her arms and lower legs hanging over the edges. Inside the pots, the oil level came to just below her breasts and half way up her thighs. After that, the fire was lit off.

One muffin, complete with plastic bone in her hair, cannibal grass skirt (or wide belt, depending on your outlook), and rubber tipped spear, walked over and gave one of the four a big smile. “Oh, you’re going to enjoy this!”

“Uh?”

“That’s a pussy pot,” she gushed, waving her spear around dangerously, thus proving Sharon’s wisdom in giving them toy spears instead of the real thing. “You kick and scream and have a great time while you just enjoy popping off and fill the water with your pussy juice. That’s how we make basting sauce.”

“Uh… this is oil I’m in.” The woman was having a hard time thinking, much less speaking.

“Oh.” The muffin was silent for a few moments, digesting the fact. “I guess you’re cooking for real. Well, you ought to enjoy that, too. I plan to enjoy it when my turn comes.”

Deep thought on the part of the woman in the pot for a few moments, requiring a great deal of effort. For a few moments, she stared at Gladys, slowly rotating on a barbecue spit set in front of the pots. An idle thought floated up, wondering how Gladys was going to taste. Then another idle thought floated up to join the first. She, herself, was cooking in a pot like a Boston butt. Kind of appropriate, since it was her own ass being cooked. She finally decided on a firm course of action, opened her mouth, and proceeded to let out a scream that would have done credit to a steam whistle.

The first captive set off the other three. Shortly, all four were wide eyed, screaming, screeching, and squealing, kicking their feet and writhing around in their respective pots. As an incidental effect, all of the excitement, coupled with (again) Belinda’s drugs, caused the four to really begin leaking from their pussies. The cooking oil was becoming heavily flavored with girl juice. Also as an incidental (Yeah, sure it was.) effect, the four began to experience a series of gut clenching orgasms, causing them to occasionally forget what they were squealing about, close their eyes, and moan. Loudly.

It was a great scene, vastly enjoyed by all.

All but Gladys, that is, who was now into the opening stages of her own wonderful scene. Her large body stretched on the spit, glistening with olive oil and a basting sauce flavored with seasoned girl juice, was beginning to react to the feel of the spit through her, the kiss of the heat on her naked flesh, and even the first faint trace of the wonderful aroma of a cooking woman. Between Belinda’s drugs and her own erotic haze, Gladys didn’t care in the least that the aroma was coming from her own barbecuing flesh. A massive orgasm, the first of many, crashed through her, causing a screaming, full body convulsion.

Sharon was enjoying the sights and sounds as the malicious bitches cooked. She particularly enjoyed the way Gladys’s full, smooth buttocks and thighs rippled as she popped off. Gladys was squirming around on her spit, doing a marvelous pole dance.

Sharon, an expert in such things, judged that it wouldn’t be long before all five were gone, Gladys first. Those women were simply enjoying things far too much and Gladys was already deep into the initial stages of her Ultimate Orgasm. Sharon wrapped an arm around Rena next to her and pulled her velvety smooth nude curves close until the soft flesh pushed firmly against her own nearly bare body. She was quite content to enjoy the erotic show for a while. Then she was really going to pound Rena’s plush, perfectly shaped ass.

Soon enough, Gladys’s mind exploded into a kaleidoscope of colors as she was overwhelmed by pure sensation. Sometime during the explosion, she drifted off into a delirium caused coma and terminal heat stroke.

Sharon noticed that Gladys was gone and waved to Rosa and Ixinza. Ordinarily, Gladys would be left on to fully cook while everyone else enjoyed a nice orgy. Today’s plans were different, given that four other equally toothsome women were currently in the process of providing deep fried pussy and ass.

Rosa and Ixinza lifted the pole holding Gladys and took her off to the mansion’s cooler. Gladys would patiently wait there for a few days until she could be brought out and finish cooking for a great beach barbecue to finish out their stay on the island. Belinda planned to spend a week or ten days down here for a little change of scene and wanted everyone to have a great time.

The back door to the mansion was only about a hundred yards away down the path through the trees, too. The cannibal raid had simply brought Gladys & Co. around to the other side of the narrow island.

The other four didn’t notice the departure of their former boss. They were too busy with their frantic struggling, screaming, and massive orgasms.

Belinda turned to Sharon. “Dearest, I judge those bitches are about ready. Would you like to do the honors? You are my Evil Minion, after all.”

Sharon produced her best Evil Minion smile. “Of course, Belinda. Be glad to.”

She picked up a long wooden brush, its head made with very soft bristles, and approached the first of the deep frying women. The aroma, Sharon had to admit, was wonderful. Deep fried pussy ought to taste great, she decided.

The faux blonde in her pot had her eyes closed and her mouth wide open, screaming frantically when she wasn’t gasping and moaning just as frantically from her continual state of massive orgasms. She was squirming and writhing in all directions, big tits flopping as she threw her body around. It wasn’t pain, Sharon knew. The oil wasn’t hot enough to really hurt the woman yet. Just panic and excitement, knowing she was cooking.

Good enough. Sharon could see the woman was breathless and red faced, well developed chest heaving with the effort to supply air for her frantic screams. Just about ready.

Suiting action to thought, Sharon put the brush head into the heating oil and between the prospective meal’s thighs, stroking her excited cunt gently with the soft bristles. More moaning, gasping, squeals, and rapid heaving of chest. The last part was fun. Come to think of it, so was listening to the music she was making as she cooked and orgasmed at the same time.

It didn’t take long before… “Oh. OH. Ooooaaaahhhh!!” She suddenly slumped in the pot, motionless.

Good enough, Sharon decided. Now for the next one. After that, some good, old fashioned, wild sex. She was looking forward to pushing the firm long shaft of her plug-on deep into Rena’s wiggly ass. After this show, Sharon really wanted a good girl-ride.

Later on, after the orgy (beach blankets had been thoughtfully laid out earlier to keep everyone from getting too sandy), Sharon surveyed her plate containing half of a deep fried cunt filet laid over a fried buttock steak. Rena had the other half of the filet on her own steak. Taking a mouthful of nicely fried pussy, Sharon closed her eyes and hummed with pleasure. Turning to Belinda with a rueful smile, she commented, “You know, Belinda, I thought this idea was crazy, even for you, when you first came up with it, but I have to admit it turned out to be fun.” She waved her fork with another slice of filet on it. “This, especially. The taste is fantastic.”

Belinda favored her with a smug expression. She was enjoying a deep fried inner thigh cutlet. “Of course, lover,” she chimed. “You ought to know by now that my ideas all turn out well.

“Wait until you see what I’ve got in mind next.”

Sharon shuddered.

NEXT POST

Thanks, Laz. I really enjoy hearing from a reader, not to mention RAH’s best character. I’ll try not to disappoint you. Something goofy is planned. Just be a while. I don’t have as much time as I used to for these stories, although I enjoy writing them as much as you enjoy reading them. :D

Leo