Star Pupil


Posted by hisdinner on June 27, 2005 at 00:15:48:

Star Pupil


"Glrrrk!" Melissa's mouth sputtered, it opened and closed like a landed fish. Her body twisted side to side on the damp, packed sand but her head was still. Andrew kept the pressure on her neck.

"Does this clear things up, my little piglet?" He shifted his boot a bit.

What a contrast they were, him dressed, and her half bare, wearing nothing but a filmy little skirt. Melissa's skin was creamy white, quickly turning pink so near the water's edge. Andrew's face was burnished coppery brown, his eyes hidden behind reflective sunglasses. She blinked and gasped, her hair a mess of sandy curls and wet tendrils, a red-gold halo in the sand. His shadow fell across her body, cast a dark slash across her breasts. Andrew wore black trousers, black boots, and a black shirt, and yet he seemed so cool, even in the tropical heat. He was deliberate. He shifted his boot again and allowed her breath. Melissa sucked it in and expelled it in one word, "Please?"

Hm. Was this lesson finished? Andrew considered it, took his eyes off her a moment, let Melissa flounder there, the boot pressed down again, securing her. Her hands and feet weren't bound. She could, if she had wanted it, leap up, run down the firm sand to the little boat they'd pulled ashore. Melissa could leave. She did not. Andrew listened to the surf, the gulls, watched the dappled light dance on the water, felt her slim neck beneath his foot.

Andrew returned his gaze to her. Melissa's face was flushed, her body taut, her hands fluttering at her sides but never rising to free herself. Such a good girl. So trusting. Tears had begun to spill out of her eyes, clearing twin trails through the sand on her face. Enough.

He removed his boot from her throat and squatted in the sand beside her, shielding her face from the sun. Melissa stopped squinting and gulped in great quantities of air. Andrew petted her, brushing back her hair with his fingers, dusting the sand from the tip of her nose. He smiled at her.

"Ready now?" She nodded, coughing softly as he pulled her onto her feet. Andrew chuckled as he saw how the sand had formed an extra skin down the length of her backside, and how she'd left a lovely girl-print in the sand while he'd pinned her there, his butterfly.

He took her hand. He turned Melissa away from the sun and they walked toward a curve in the shoreline. There, the jungle sent out its feelers, seeking purchase. Melissa thought that if they sat here for an afternoon, that she would be able to see the advance of that green monster's tentacles. Where his boot had been, she imagined green sinuous fingers encircling her throat. She drew her own hand to her neck, echoing that feeling, or reassuring herself, it was hard to tell.

Melissa realized that the jungle smothered everything, rocks, treasures, small creatures, men, beasts. Oh no, she thought, it left the beasts, it sheltered them and the rest, it strangled with vines and roots—and people weren't meant to be here! She shivered as she stared at the dark green wall that loomed larger, closer with each footstep. Through leaves and spires of tall flowers and trees, she glimpsed a patch of dull brown. Squinting, she just made out a thatched roof.

"Is that it?" Melissa looked at Andrew. He had been watching her face, noting how her aspect changed. A moment ago she'd been flushed and lively, even under his boot, her vibrancy could not be quenched. It was her spirit, airy, light-- that was what he'd wanted; that was what he owned now. He shook his head, still feeling a jolt of pleasant shock whenever he realized—she was his.

Andrew had coveted Melissa from the moment he'd heard her laugh, back across the water, back deep in the desert in her father's house. Her kinship was with air and light and laughter, not with the drunken greedy lout who'd traded her for a fancy car. He smiled as he gazed at her. She was his fairy, his butterfly, and he held her on an invisible chain. She said she loved his rough, dark ways. She said she loved him. He drank her in. He felt like a lion lapping water at the water's edge, eyeing the gazelle.

But her face was clouded now, as if the cooler shadows of the jungle had reached across the last stretch of sand and covered her in gloom. Their steps had slowed. She lifted a sunburnt arm to point at the roof just visible at the crest of a steep hill. "Is that where--?"

He nodded, draped his arm around her waist and sheparded her through the tangle of vines and bushes. He cleared a path past the trees and over tree-roots as they climbed to a small clearing at the end of the sharp rise. The cottage rode atop that hill like a sloop about to capsize in a storm at sea; it seemed off-kilter—Its walls weren't squared, some tilted seaward, others threatened to topple in, the roof canted at such a jaunty angle, she was reminded of a caricature of a Frenchman's beret. Melissa thought it looked altogether precarious. She thought it looked as if the green monster were about to sweep it off this hill and dash it on the rocks below in a million pieces. And them along with it. She did not trust this shack at all.

"My secret lair." Andrew beamed, his eyes finally left the house and nodded at her. Melissa looked closely at him, standing there, smiling. He saw an altogether different house, didn't he? He was seeing his memories, not—this. She shivered. He'd never mentioned how dark it could be here in the tropics, even in the middle of the day. Andrew ducked his head inside the open door and disappeared in the deeper darkness. Melissa hesitated at the door, studying the slatted windows and the little sign nailed half-way between the window and the doorway: Casa Del Cannibal. Melissa giggled. It broke the spell, it made her smile. She slipped into the shack.

"Did you like my sign?" He was sitting against one of the inward sloping walls on something low. A bench? A bed? She couldn't tell. She edged over to him, allowing her eyes a chance to adjust to the low light. He found her wrist and tugged her down to sit next to him. It was a bed, covered in thick cotton, and its texture soothed her. She relaxed a little. He felt a little of her spark return.

"It's a lovely sign," Melissa nodded and leaned into his warmth and kissed him. He allowed it, took her by the wrists and crossed them behind her back, kept her in a tight embrace as his mouth crushed hers. His tongue lapped her face, tasting salt-sweat and seawater. She giggled and whimpered for more. Andrew could never refuse her. He had her on the little cot, and set the whole place to quaking as he fucked her. When he held her elfin body beneath his, it was all he could do not to crush her. He pictured her as a delicate museum specimen laid flat, arms and legs spread wide under glass. Pinned there for all to admire. He imagined driving that pin through her breast. He shuddered and filled her.

"Isn't that a little chancy, telling every body you're a cannibal?" She gestured to the wall that held his sign. She giggled. Melissa looked up into his face from where she lay below him. She felt pleasantly overpowered, squashed, and ready for another lesson.

She'd learned that she could ask him anything. His lessons might be surprising, shocking, even painful, but in some way, he answered every one of her questions. He delighted in her eagerness to know. Why, just this afternoon, while they were strolling on the beach she'd asked him why he still wore those thick boots on such a lovely day, on such a lovely beach. What a lesson that had been! He'd shown her, hadn't he.

Now they lay on the cotton spread and his eyes took on a terrible twinkle. He winked at her and pulled her to her feet.

"Jump up!" he hollered. "Outside, this way!"

He leapt off the bed, naked. She giggled as he cavorted in the green light that filtered in through the derelict window slats. He grabbed her hand and they ran outside. He dragged her around the tottering walls of his little house and into a larger clearing in the back. They had an unobstructed view of the ocean there, the beach they'd landed on, and their little craft. He pulled her over to a thick post, seven feet high, mounted at the very edge of the downslope. A second pole rose up, seven feet away. She'd been giggling but as she looked down and around her, felt the jungle encroaching, she became self-conscious, nervous.

"I'm all naked, Andrew…can't I get my cover-up?"

He laughed as he centered her back against the post and lashed her there with a rope threaded through a channel in the pole and wrapped around her waist. Her toes barely touched the footings, and she teetered and gasped, but the rope held fast. Andrew ran to the edge of the slope and shouted, "Look, everybody! I bought this girl—she's mine, I got the papers to prove it!"

Melissa flushed crimson and looked around, peered down through the trees. "I can't believe you said that! What if somebody hears you?" She felt ridiculous even as she said it, but the deep relentless greenery unnerved her. Anything could be lurking in there, watching her.

"Papers, well, the papers to my car, anyway—oh, well, I take that back, but her Daddy's got his new BMW and me? I've got … this!" He pressed a hand to the small of her back, ran his hands down both her legs. She arched and felt the rope tighten around her.

Melissa stared down from the pole into a mass of thick, unruly vegetation. Where was their path? My god, the jungle had already swallowed it up. At the base of the slope the jungle forest undulated. Melissa felt her tummy clench.

"Oh my god, Andrew, let me down, let me down, I feel like I am going to faint."

He stood to one side of her now, gesturing at her body, pointing out features—her sleek flat belly, her freckles, her teardrop breasts, the nipples puffy but hardening to nubs despite her squeals and protests. Andrew laughed, reached in to cup her right breast and display it to his imaginary audience. He pinched and prodded, and squeezed and poked her.

"Oh god, stop it! Hee hee!" she squirmed and blushed. "Next thing I know you'll auction me!" She was trying to be a good sport about it, but that sea of green writhing below her was making Melissa nauseous.

"Auction? Oh, no! Listen, all you out there! She's my little piglet, and I intend to fatten her and cook her in a month or so!"

As he said that, Andrew's voice dropped its car salesman bravado. The last few words he whispered into her neck as his hands caressing her flanks. She moaned and arched and whimpered as the rope restricted her.

"You mean it?" Melissa never got tired of hearing him when he talked his cannibal talk. His voice got lower, huskier, filled with desire and the strength to quench it. She could feel that strength, that power in his voice. She loved him always, but especially when he got into talking about his fantasies. And if he wanted to pretend this stuff, hey, it was fine with her. She was twenty, her Daddy had no real hold on her and besides, it was the hottest thing she could imagine, being bought and carried off by a man who said that she looked good enough to eat.

"Oh, yes honey, you're my sweet little appetizer, and I am going to spend a month fattening and fucking you before I feast. I'll stuff this first." Now he parted her sex, roughly, one finger, two, three inside, letting her slip down the rough pole, letting the rope catch her and hold her up as it bit in around the underside of her breasts.

"Oh, yes, sweet little birdie, I'll fill you with the sweetest stuff." She moaned and undulated against his hand and loved his every word. She closed her eyes and forgot all about the jungle for awhile.

A week, went by, then two. The sun set so early here, and the days were so steamy warm, so tranquil. He loved to fish in the surf. She collected tiny shells and dozed after he fed her bananas, breadfruit, sweet guava juices. He'd brought liquor and a small lump of dark stuff they smoked as they watched the sun set over the water. They spent half their time down on the beach, and each night, the walk back up the cabin seemed to become a little harder. Melissa blamed her laziness and Andrew's indulgence of her appetites.

He indulged his appetites as well. One night he painted her in guava pulp and licked it from her skin, nibbling his way up, growling as he went. He'd take a mouthful of her flank and worry it, and Melissa would shriek and scrabble her fingers in the woven mat beneath her as they lay out under the stars. Fire flickered up into the night, the jungle screeched and howled. The first few nights she'd jumped and startled him awake countless times, each time a bird called. He'd learned to give her potent drinks to soothe her fears, and plenty of fucking and food to sate her.

"You taste best in sweet-hot sauces, my little piglet," Andrew whispered to her. They lay beside the fire, sweaty from lovemaking.

"Those round peppers! When you rubbed my-- Oh Andrew, they burn!"

"Where did I rub you, little kitty?" He loved to make her squirm, any way he could.

"On my—here!" She took his hand, kissed his fingers and placed it on her sex. She couldn't say the words, but she could show him. She broke off and covered her embarrassment by kissing him.

"Say it. Cunt." He smirked and twisted one of her labia, holding her in place with his other arm. She shrieked and tossed her head back and forth, face crimson. He did not relent. Finally, she blurted out the word. He made her feel so free, so wild.

Now Melissa was giggly, slow and languid, her belly beginning to round, her mouth stained with crimson juices. Andrew loved to kiss her, gently position her on her elbows and her knees, facing the firelight that burned in a large rectangular miner's cart that doubled as his barbecue. He knelt behind her, caressing her body, rubbing rich oils in to her skin as she moaned and presented herself to him, his delicate butterfly transformed into a wanton jungle cat in heat, her carnal whimperings irresistible.

He dug his hands into the lovely curves where her hips flared a little wider than they had just three weeks ago. Andrew watched the firelight dance over Melissa's skin. He bent down and nipped her shoulder.

"Mmm…owie!" She hardly yelped. She held him tight inside her.

"Mmm, you say!" Andrew grunted, his body pumping faster. He loved the sound her flesh made as he pounded into her. The look of her, the sound, the scent of her skin. Now. Tomorrow. He could wait no longer. Andrew snarled a sharp cry as he came inside her.

Melissa slipped forward, her wild hair nearly singed in the fire. Andrew grinned and slapped her rump and tugged her backward, to the shack and into bed. When she began softly purring, Andrew set to work. He went to the corner of the cabin and pulled one of the support poles free. The roof sagged another five inches, and the far wall bulged further outward against the strain.

"Got to remember to shore this old place up before the rainy season," he thought. Andrew lugged the iron pole out of the hut and around to the back. The birds were screeching and the night was humid but the moon was bright. He retrieved a long metal cage and spent the next hour oiling the hinges that worked the door after he attached it to the metal pole. Before he went to bed, he fixed a handle to one end of the pole just outside the wooden post. He fed the fire for the fifth time that night. His miner's cart would be full of coals by morning. All set. The cage door hung open, its hinges well oiled. No creaking.

"Good," Andrew smiled. "Melissa just hates scary sounds out in the dark."

Melissa woke up alone. She'd gotten over being embarrassed of her nakedness. She walked outside, her breasts jiggling, her body quivering and ripe. Andrew sat outside in the steamy light. A pile of chopped hot peppers lay on a cutting board to his right. He was squeezing fruit juices into a deep bowl. She watched him scrape in the peppers.

"You are perfection, my sweet. Only one thing missing."

Melissa giggled, kissed him. "What's missing? There's more of me each day!" She touched her body, ran her hands up from her waist to cup her breasts. She knew that drove him crazy.

"The sauce, my piglet. Just the sauce. Commere." She stood closer to him, and his lips grazed her belly, kissed it. He took her hand and led her around the corner, toward a small wooden box in front of the metal contraption he'd constructed in the dark of night.

"Andrew! Wow! This is fantastic, look at this!" She broke free and danced around the cage, peering into it, trying out the door that swung up to meet its clasp without a sound.

"Go ahead, love. Get in." His smile stayed wide, but his heart raced.

"Really? Hee hee, ok!" Melissa spent a minute turning around, trying various angles and finally, she put her hands in first like a diver then wriggled herself in, pulling her legs in tucked, and then letting them stretch out behind her. The cage shifted, swung upside down.

"Whee!" she laughed as the cage swung back and forth. Andrew was at her shoulder, smiling, fixing crossbars in place from side to side, shoulders, hips, knees, ankles.
"Is that so you can turn me around and around?" She was wide-eyed, beaming.

"Yep." Andrew secured each crossbar so that she couldn't slip. He'd left one bar out, but only for a little while.

"This is more secure than a rollercoaster ride." Melissa giggled and squirmed. The cage shifted slightly. Andrew locked the cage into place on the metal pole. He grabbed the handle and gave it a half-turn. Melissa stared at the box below her, feeling her belly arch out, unsecured. The cage door gaped open.

"Andrew? Aren't you going to tell me to keep my arms and legs inside at all times?"

He smiled at her and winked. "Sure thing, be right back!" He waved gaily and went to retrieve his marinade.

Melissa's back began to ache a little. The rest of her felt good, all tight inside the cage. What an inventive guy! She giggled. She loved his games. But she wished he'd get back here and bar that door! Owie, she felt so achy and exposed, with her tummy bared like this. Around her, the jungle sounds seeped into her consciousness. She caught movement off to her right. Was that a snake?

She couldn't turn to get a better look. Something set up a raucous chattering in the deep green below her. Every second, Melissa was more conscious of the open door below her belly. She couldn’t move her arms to grab it, they were pinned in place. Her legs, too. She saw that movement again, she swore there was a snake right there, not just vines and bushes. A snake! She felt suddenly so claustrophobic, looking into the deep green on green on green.

If this was a lesson it was one she didn't like. "Andrew!" She shouted toward the corner of the shack. She thought she heard him answer. What was taking him so long? What sort of dumb game was this, anyway? Turning her in a cage right by the edge of the cliff, like some miniature Ferris wheel? Well, she wanted no more of it. She wailed frustration. She could feel phantom jungle eyes on her. She imagined a snake, slithering up the post and into the cage with her, and---

"Andrew!" She shrieked. Finally she saw him coming toward her, carrying his marinade.

"I saw a snake," she said. "I hate that jungle. It was coming over here."

"A snake." He shook his head, smiling at her. He kicked the wooden crate out of the way and used it to set down his bowl, some knives, and a long handled basting brush.

"Give me a kiss, piglet. Then I'll have an apple for your mouth. Brought it all the way from your daddy's kitchen. Just for you, sweetie."

Melissa loved it when he called her piglet. She kissed him, whimpering at the end. "My back aches, Andrew. Can you fix the bar?"

"Last lesson, my lovely little sow." He opened her mouth wide and tucked a small, tart apple inside as far as he could. Melissa began to gag a bit, then remembered to breathe through her nose. They'd played the apple game so many times before. She watched Andrew as he lugged a heavy miner's cartful of coals from the fire. Too hot for that, she whimpered. He didn't seem to notice her complaints as he parked the cart beside the poles.

Andrew continued talking as he turned to the crate and picked up a sturdy-handled knife with a wicked blade. "I can't fix the bar just yet. I need to slit your belly first. Silly piglet. Silly, silly little girl. There we go!"

He pressed the tip of the blade to a point just below her sternum and slid it down to her pubis, the metal cage framing his work area quite nicely, the bars holding her in place—just so.

Melissa's eyes widened and her whole body shuddered as he let her slick inner organs loose into the dusty ground below. He worked swiftly, cleaned out his prize, and had her roasting within a half hour. His only regret was not having a bit of butter to rub on her, along with the spicy marinade.

"Feel how the juices of the peppers sear your nerves, my sweet treat?"

Andrew looked lovingly into her eyes. Melissa blinked tears and bleated each time he stroked the spicy stuff over her breasts, her hips, her thighs. When he pushed marinade-covered fingers deep into her cunt, Melissa screamed and choked.

He shook his head. "Such a messy little thing." He cleaned away the apple bits and reached into his pocket for a new one. Melissa coughed and sputtered and spoke.

"You..you really.. you really are a cannibal.." Melissa's voice was faint, her eyelids almost closed.


He kissed her, sucked in her tongue, nibbling it one last time before it roasted.

Andrew placed a new apple into Melissa's mouth, fastened the bars, closed it tight and set the cage to spinning.

"I am that. And you, dear? You are my star pupil."