The buckle broke free. Her shorts were quickly pulled down her slender legs leaving her in her piss soaked panties that clung to the dark mound of hair between her legs. With his large uncircumcised member in his gnarled hands he let it slap against the inside of her thigh. He ripped the panties off her quickly thrusting inside of her.
The pain was unbearable, every part of her ached. The groans began to drown out around her as everything began to feel light and distant. Her eyes roamed the ceiling above studying the paintings. She watched the long shadows of her captures entangle above her. Continuing to study the ceiling overhead, her eyes focused upon a large yellow and black spider. It gazed from above reflecting her assault in the eight unblinking eyes that sat unmoved as her innocence was taken away.
Sophia opened her eyes. Towering overhead, the canopy of the trees swayed as her eyes came into focus. Her body was stiff and sore all over. The pressure on her bladder was becoming too much to ignore as she was ready to burst. Carefully she got to her feet and squatted, ignoring her screaming muscles. The constant stream of urine burnt as it splashed onto the jungle floor. She whimpered to the final drop.
Her stomach grumbled. The pain tightened her insides. Unable to complete a single cohesive thought, she stumbled forward onto what appeared to be a foot trail. Through the hum of the jungle she could hear muffled chatter in the distance. With more urgency, she pushed through the foliage… closing in on the chatter until she stumbled upon a clearing. Cautiously moving closer to the edge of the clearing, her face was whacked by a slick tree limb. Her hand reached to push the limb aside before she quickly retracted it. This was no tree limb, of that she was certain; instead of the coarse bark texture she expected instead her fingers had felt something soft…something sticky.
Her eyes searched overhead to discover a man hanging by his ankles, his dark eyes staring down blankly at her. His mouth seemed to puff… as though he were trying to whistle at her. Sophia could not bring herself to look away. The hanging man’s lips pursed open, a thick stream of blood and saliva oozed freely from his lips, Sophia stepped back just before it had a chance to splash onto her. The jaw widened, as though the corpse were about to scream. A squeal emerged as a gore covered rat escaped from the mouth and tumbled onto the jungle floor. The rat shook the excess bile and blood from its matted fur, paying no mind to Sophia… it stood on its hind feet and continued to chew on a hunk of pink flesh that hung from its pointed snout. Sophia kicked at the rodent, her bare foot just missing it as it darted for the safety of the neighboring bushes. The man continued to stare down at her, his face in a frozen scream as the body rocked overhead.
Unintelligible shouts erupted from behind Sophia; she turned to see a naked obese woman charging down the trail towards her with a machete raised overhead. Sophia froze starring on as the woman swung the blade inches from her frail body. Sophia turned to run but instead, fell under the weight of the woman as she was tackled to the ground. Pain tore through her ribs as all the air was knocked out from her. Her lungs strained to take in more air. Sticks and rocks dug into her skin but there was no time to think about that. She could feel the woman’s breath burning on the back of her neck. The woman bit down onto Sophia’s neck her, teeth digging in.
“HuwahTah!” The scream came from the clearing ahead. Sophia could not see through her tear soaked eyes as everything was becoming so bright. Suddenly the weight of the woman was flung from her body. Her body swallowed in large gulps of air. She laid there, unaware of the argument taking place around her. She could feel a hand, take hold of hers; the hand was large and coarse with calluses. Sophia looked up as her eyes strained to adjust. She saw the face of the chief looking down at her. She struggled to get away but he simply held her tighter, pulling her to his side. His hand combing through her hair gently, in his arms she cried till there was nothing left.
The Chief led Sophia into the village. The villagers looked upon the outsider with curiosity. The Chief was proud of his white woman. Stories had been told about the white men that hunted beyond the reach of the jungle, never had he seen this elusive hunter. She was young and beautiful and he had enjoyed making her scream the previous night. She was his and he was going to make sure everyone understood this. He was lucky to have found Sheepa before she inflicted more harm upon his young prize. He knew she was angry, angry as she had been when he had brought other wives to bed. What could she expect after all these years when she had yet to birth him a son? Sheepa would have to be watched more closely now, but if he were being honest with himself he looked forward to her disobeying him again. His mouth watered at the thought of her beneath his blade and tearing the skin from her barren snatch. The thought of all that blood and all that pain he could inflict excited him as he marched proudly through the village with his giant uncut member leading the way.
The white woman had stopped moving, the Chief looked back at her annoyed with her hesitation. Watching the children at play, she seemed upset by this act of innocence on display. Perhaps when he had her settled and fed, she would relax more and he would go play with the kids as well. It had been a while since he had kicked the ball with the children. He gripped her tighter and pulled her along, into the hut allowing the rest of the village to go about their business.
All her thoughts and fears were washed away as her nostrils’ were stung by the aroma of cooked meat. The sweet smell conjured up memories from pot roasts her mother would cook Sunday evenings with spoonfuls of cinnamon applesauce, pooled along the edge of her plate. Her hunger attacked with such rage, she pulled free of the Chief and lunged for the pot of simmering meat that hung precariously over the fire. She screamed as her hand clasped the burning pot. She sobbed helplessly as the Chief laughed over her.
Sophia watched as the Chief grabbed a bowl from inside a large battered footlocker. He pushed her aside to scoop the bowl into the stewing pot. Pale grey meat steamed over the top of the bowl. Her eyes fell to the contents as the Chief held it out for her. She snatched the bowl from him and brought it to her lips. She swallowed the sweet juices as they burnt their way down her throat. Her fingers fumbled the warm pieces of meat to her mouth. She gnawed and tore at the meat, choking on the larger bits. Her cheeks swelled from the meat stuffed in her mouth as her teeth tore and shred the bites to sludge that were easier to swallow. With the last of the meat coursing its way to the pit of her stomach she sighed.
She turned to look at the Chief whom seemed amused with her behavior as he smiled at her with his rotted teeth. His hut was nicer than hers, it was filled with various pieces she figured he had scavenged from others unfortunate enough to of crossed his path.
Various weapons were spread about. Gazing overhead, her insides turned as she saw several petrified shrunken heads hanging from twine. The eyes and mouths were sown shut. Her stomach gurgled, she looked back to the Chief and raised the bowl, “More?” she asked hoping he would understand. He waved his hand in understanding, granting her permission. She eagerly scooped the bowl back into the pot, spilling the contents down her hands. She continued to feast, taking slower bites as her hunger began to subside. Her teeth bit into something hard, careful not to swallow, she spat the piece into her palm. She saw what she believed was a molar with a gold filling. It was with this recognition to the contents of her bowl that her stomach lurched and she heaved the contents of her stomach onto the floor.
The nights passed with their painful routine. The Chiefs constant visits were as expected and accepted as Sophia saw no chance for escape. With the passage of time, the struggle she put up became less and less. To struggle meant there would only be more pain and being left alone in her restraints. Her screams and pleas would only continue to go unanswered. When he would finally leave, as his warmth oozed between her thighs, she would stare above and allow herself to escape into her memories. The warmth of her blankets protecting her, keeping her snug throughout the night in her bedroom back home. Any thoughts of rescue she understood to be nothing more than fantasy. She was alo
ne.
When the village was quiet, she knelt by her bed and prayed, conversing with her “savior” that left her with no response or any sign that she so desperately pleaded for. Her hope was all but gone. That is of course, till the day came when she heard gun fire, deep within the jungle.
Sophia stepped out from the hut. It was still dark but sunrise would be upon the village soon. She could see all the villagers standing stoically scanning the jungle from where the gun fire had emerged. The seconds lingered as Sophia swatted at the flies that busied themselves around her. Another report of gun fire erupted.
“Jul veh lo hou!” The Chief screamed with his machete wielded overhead. The villagers all screamed in unison as they marched towards the tree line. The Chief looked across the village to Sophia, and her staring back at him. He began to make his way towards her.
“Shit” she muttered under her breath as she braced herself knowing this was it, this was the end. Her certain death, that would allow her the only chance of escape. Her hands trembled as he marched nearer. Instead of the swing of the machete, she was embraced. Pulling her by the wrists, he jerked her into the open. Sophia stumbled behind struggling to keep up with his long assured strides. He was taking her in the direction of the jungle she had been taken before. Memories of being fondled and violated by his giant member flashed through her mind. Her body went cold. She tried to dig her feet into the ground but he only pulled harder.
The body that once hung from the trees hung no more. Taking a coil of blood stained rope, the Chief bound her hands. The pain was sharp as the rope dug into her already infected wounds. “Please don’t do this, I won’t runaway…please there is nowhere for me to run to…you don’t have to do this…”
But her pleas went unanswered as the Chief tossed the remainder of the rope overhead over a thick branch. He yanked the rope. Her hands pulled up as she slowly began to lift from the ground till her toes barely hung off the ground. Securing the remaining slack of the rope the Chief looked over Sophia, satisfied he left her in pursuit of his villagers as more gun fire rang out.
Her muscles burned. The strain of her shoulders wore down on her. Breathing became more difficult but the pain was enough to keep her distracted. She squeezed her eyes shut. Why couldn’t he just kill her? She understood being treated as a play thing for when he was bored but why just abandon her like this? What if he never came back? This was no way for someone to die.
More gunshots rang out only this time they were followed by screams that echoed through the jungle. She struggled to see where the gun fire was coming from but all she could see was a never ending wall of jungle foliage.
The bushes rustled in the distance. The sun was sinking beyond the trees painting the skies above in shades of pink and violet. It had been hours since Sophia heard or saw anyone. The fear of dying while hanging from this tree loomed as an all too promising possibility. Perhaps, her eyes betrayed her but she believed she saw a villager emerge from the nest of foliage. The bleary figure came into focus and her specter became a fiend of reality.
Fresh blood covered the villager; his eyes were drunk with madness that frightened Sophia. Behind the villager, being drug along the jungle floor was a man in a military uniform. Sophia remembered him as the man from the attack on the Amazon Queen. The uniform was bloody and tattered, the soldier didn’t move. Sophia couldn’t be sure if he were dead or not. A renewed rage filled her. Holding the soldier responsible for all she had gone through. She kicked and screamed as she struggled to free herself from her binds, ignoring the pain and shutting it out. She hoped he was alive for she knew what horrors would lay ahead for him.
More villagers trickled through the trees carrying their trophies behind them. Hoots and whistles rang through the forest, announcing their return from victory. The Chief was the last to emerge from the forest, with a helmet and a soldier’s jacket draped over him, the medals clinking with every step. He stopped in front of Sophia looking up into her eyes. What she saw in his eyes chilled her.
The Chief cut the rope letting Sophia tumble to the ground. Her legs tingled with tiny little pin pricks as feeling began to return. Wasting no time, the chief grabbed hold of the rope binding her hands. Dragging her back to the village, she knew not to fight him. His blood was still up and she knew how dangerous he could be.
Taking his place at his throne, the Chief sat as he held Sophia at his side. He watched with delight as the village had come alive as everyone hustled about making preparations for some kind of ceremony. The women were stringing up the soldiers, some dead and others not. The men of the village circled the strung up soldiers poking and prodding them with their blades. Eager hands clawed at the bodies, tearing at the clothes, stripping them down till their nude bodies swung. Sophia turned away. The Chief glared at her, slapped her with the back of his hand. Sophia simply looked to the Chief pitifully. He grabbed her head with both hands turning her face towards the soldiers. This was his offering to her, he would make her understand this and after he would make her his wife.
Some of the soldiers sobbed and begged for mercy while others remained stoic either from pride or sheer shock… no one would ever know. The villagers continued their jabs and taunting. Some taking the blades and sticks and sodomized them. Blood ran freely down their slick dark skinned bodies. The women of the village brought large bowls out and placed them beneath the soldiers to collect the spilt blood.
The fire raged as the villagers took their blades and began to dig their blunt edges into the soldiers flesh. Screams of agony intensified as the villagers began to get more excited. Somewhere, a drum thudded slowly… increasing its rhythm. Discarding their blades, the villagers dug into the wounds allowing their hands to grope and pry as the exposed flesh was torn wider. Their fingers wrapped around the chords of viscera, tugging the entrails free. The bodies of the soldiers convulsed with each tug, blood and bile spilling from their mouths. The entrails began to carefully coil into the bowls, the blood tinged yellow flesh slipping between their fingers.
Sophia looked over to see the woman who had been her caretaker, the woman knelt over a bowl taking hold of the large intestine pulling it taught and bit into it. Her teeth dug into the flesh, her head shook side to side as her teeth sawed into the meat. The intestine tore in half, a dark fluid oozed from the mangled gash. Grabbing an arm’s length of intestine, she squeezed and rolled it… allowing bile to spill out. Satisfied, she grabbed a blade and sliced the wrapped intestine free.
The men continued their harvest as they dug inside the chest cavities yanking and tugging the remaining organs free. Lifting a heart in reverence, a villager approached the Chief. The villager knelt before the Chief, his hands and arms soiled in blood; he extended the heart towards the Chief. The Chief took the heart from the man and squeezed the organ over the villager’s face spilling blood into his mouth. The Chief moved the heart over Sophia, the blood trickling down her yellow hair and smearing across her face. He squeezed the heart a final time allowing a final spray to shower her. With a swift motion he bit hungrily into the heart. He gnawed on the tissue as a valve teased his lips smearing his face with gore. With a mouthful of flesh, the Chief thrust the heart to the air. “Voma la Gotta” a simple translation to mean, “To my wife.”
More hands swarmed the bodies, clawing and peeling at the flesh ripping the muscle from the bone. The pale ribs exposed and cracked as the blood and marrow was wiped and licked away. As the bowls were moved aside, the bodies were cut down from their restraints and tumbled to the ground.
A small child walked up to one of the fallen bodies. He poked his tiny finger into the eye socket. Pushing past the eye lid the child scooped his fingers in and pulled the eye free with the nerves dangling beneath. He licked and sucked on the eye, his tongue flicking over the cornea, savoring the sweet salty tang. Dropping the eye into his mouth his teeth squeezed into the gelatin like mass as he slurped the nerves through his messy lips.
A feeding frenzy broke loose as the villagers pile
d around the bodies. Flesh held in their mouths and hands. Groans and exhales of fulfillment, echoed around the fire as Sophia watched with disgust and awe.
The Chief peeled tissue from the valve and dangled the pink flesh over Sophia. He grabbed a fistful of hair and tilted her hair back. She pleaded but he didn’t care. He thrust the raw flesh into her face. She grit her teeth as the meat streaked across her mouth. He pulled harder; she could feel the hair being ripped from her scalp. The pain becoming unbearable, she stared at the cold black eyes and again to the grin that frightened her. It was the grin that told her how much he enjoyed the struggle and the pain he inflicted. She strained to not show her fear, but it was all becoming too much to contain.
When would it end? When would it all finally be enough? She could taste the blood. She could feel the blood sliding down the back of her throat, she wanted to gag and pull away but she was helplessly at his mercy. Will power alone was not enough to escape, as the futility of her struggle became apparent. She strained to close her eyes to shut it all out but no matter what she did, she couldn’t. She opened her mouth to scream, only to have it stifled by the flesh shoved into her mouth. The warm irony flesh choked her scream until it was silent. Her teeth clamped down on the meat, nearly snipping the tips of the Chiefs fingers. She chewed hard, every bite filling her mouth with clotted blood. She drooled from the corners of her mouth. She continued to chew; trying so hard to think of the tasty meats her mother had cooked for her. Struggling to imagine anything, to somehow fool herself of the reality of what she was savoring. Swallowing bits at a time she struggled, crying, waiting for it all to end.
Masters of Taboo Presents: Cannibalism, Digesting The Human Condition (Limited Edition) Page 10
