Posted by RIP on December 06, 2003 at 21:09:05:
The small cabin cruiser set out from port at the crack of dawn. Sharon was sleepy, the air was still slightly cool and wet, and she sat in the dimly lit cabin below-deck huddled in her windbreaker sipping coffee while feeling the boat rise and fall beneath her. The gentle rocking was almost lulling her to sleep again.
Cindy entered, climbed down the ladder-way and poured herself a cup of coffee.
"Kinda early for you, huh?" She asked as she sat down next to Sharon.
"Yeah. . ."
"Well, whenever we have a luau like this, Cal and I like to get an early start and have everything ready early in the day, then spend the afternoon swimming and lying around on the beach."
"I've never been to a luau before." Sharon said.
"Cal has one of these a couple of times a year. He only invites a couple of close friends . . . usually Bill and Emily Brunning. They just love dining luau-style."
"Well, thanks for inviting me along . . . I hope I'm not being any sort of inconvenience."
"Don't be silly, you're the guest of honor."
By nine in the morning, the August summer was warm enough that Sharon could change into her bikini. She spread her beach towel onto the polished teak deck and laid down on her back. Cal took his eyes off the helm of the boat just long enough to take a long look at the twenty-two-year-old woman. Even laying down, the firm mounds of her breasts bulged from beneath the tiny cups of her bikini top. Her belly was stretched taut over her wide pelvis. Her legs were long and tanned, and seemed to go on forever. Cindy wondered what he was staring at, and followed his gaze down to the young woman sprawled out on the deck. She looked at Cal and grinned.
"I think tonight is going to be one of the best luaus you've ever thrown." She said quietly.
The island was a tiny dot of emerald green in the middle of an azure blue ocean. Cal ran the boat around the island in a slow sweep to let Sharon get a good look at it from the sea, then he navigated the boat through a tiny opening in the coral reef which surrounded the island, and into a small lagoon that was barely visible from the ocean.
As Sharon stared at the brilliant blue water and the wide stretch of white coral sand, surrounded by a wall of green jungle fringed with palm trees, the lagoon seemed a picture perfect fantasy world.
"We always come to this island. No one else seems to know about it. Total privacy. No interruptions. Just good friends and good food, our own little paradise where we can be ourselves for a while."
Cal anchored the boat in the middle of the shallow lagoon, and together they carried several large coolers and picnic hampers to the beach. They placed the hampers under some trees, and the two women followed Cal into the jungle.
Sharon stopped at the edge of a deep pit, nearly eight feet long, and lined at the bottom with light grey volcanic rock covered with a thick layer of ash and charcoal.
"That's our fire pit. All the rocks help hold in the heat." Cal explained.
"Cooking luau-style is a bit of an art," Cindy said, "Cal's one of the great masters of the luau . . . we both picked up our taste for it in Fiji, when we were with the Peace Corp."
"Fiji . . . isn't that where they have headhunters?"
"Headhunters. Cannibals. Leeches the size of Chihuahuas. Mosquitoes the size of B-52 bombers . . . actually, it wasn't as bad as it sounds." Cal said as he evened out the layer of stones.
"The first thing we have to do is collect as much firewood as we can find." Cal said, and the three fanned out into the rain forest and began dragging deadwood back to the side of the fire pit. After a half hour, they had collected together a small mountain of dead limbs and twigs. Bill began breaking the smaller pieces up for kindling.
"Next, we'll need a big pile of leaves . . . show her which types we'll need."
Cindy took Sharon into the jungle, and showed her the large green leaves needed for the fire pit. Each leaf was three feet or more in length, and nearly as wide as Sharon's waist. After a dozen trips, they had gathered enough for Cal's needs. In the meantime, Cal had arranged the kindling in a narrow, long strip down the center of the pit, and was beginning to pile the larger wood on top.
Cal brought one of the hampers to the side of the fire pit, and unloaded a dozen fresh ears of corn still in their husks, a small bag of baking potatoes, and a dozen yams. They began wrapping each piece of vegetable in a banana leaf, and tying each leaf tightly closed. Sharon knelt between them, watching them work, then picked up a yam and began to roll a banana leaf around it. She fumbled with it for several minutes -- trying to duplicate Cindy's skilled craftsmanship -- before giving up and returning it to the pile.
"Now what?" Sharon asked.
"Now we have lunch, and spend some time doing absolutely nothing," Cal replied.
Cindy opened one of the picnic hampers, and spread a large tablecloth onto the sand as Cal opened the other hamper and pulled out bowls of cold fried chicken, potato salad, and a couple of chilled bottles of white wine.
"We figured a light lunch . . . Cal and me always like to save room for the big feast in the evening."
"A light lunch is perfect. You wouldn't want me to get fat, would you?" Sharon said, patting her tummy.
Cal looked at Cindy and smiled broadly.
After lunch, they returned to the edge of the lagoon. Sharon frolicked in the warm water for a while, then took a short cat-nap on her beach towel. The couple intently studied the sleeping woman, watching her deeply tanned chest and belly rise and falling with each breath until the woman rolled over onto her stomach.
"What time is it?" He said.
Cindy fumbled in her purse and pulled out her watch, "Two O'clock."
"We'd better start getting the feast ready . . ."
Cal took two lengths of cotton clotheslines out of the hamper, and together they walked towards Sharon. Carefully, they knelt on either side of the woman.
Sharon opened one eye and looked up at Cal.
"Is it dinner time already? "
Without speaking, Cal grabbed both of the woman's arms just below the elbows, and pulled them towards the middle of her back. Cindy swiftly looped the clothesline around her wrists, tying the ends with a solid square knot. Placing his knee against the small of the woman's back, Cal pinned her against the sand while Cindy lashed each of her flailing ankles back against her thighs.
After making certain that Cindy's knots were tight, Cal rolled the woman onto her back. He pulled the sheath knife out of his belt, and slipped the blade underneath the thin strap which connected the cups of Sharon s bikini top together. The elastic fabric sprang to either side like a snapped rubber band, and the massive globes of her breasts tumbled free. Cindy picked up the small bikini top, wadded up the two triangular patches of cloth, and jammed the mass into Sharon's gaping mouth, tying it around the woman's head with the remnants of the shoe-string thick straps. Cal untied the bottom of her bikini, and pulled the small piece of cloth from beneath the helpless woman. Sharon flopped around on the sand like a freshly landed fish, desperately trying to wriggle out of the ropes lashed tightly around her wrists and ankles.
Cindy rubbed her hand across Sharon's bare abdomen, "Look at all that meat . . ."
Cal placed his hand on the middle of Sharon's tummy, and gently pressed. Her flesh was warm and resilient beneath his palm. His hand traveled up her torso to cup one of her full breasts.
"I think she'll cook up nice and tender!" He said, bending over the young woman's quivering frame and taking a long gaze before sitting down in the sand next to her. He held out the knife to Cindy. Sharon looked up at the razor sharp edge, her eyes as wide as saucers, "Would you care to do the honors?"
"It will be a pleasure," Cindy responded, taking the knife.
Straddling the woman's hips and sitting on Sharon's thighs, Cindy poised the blade just beneath the woman's breastbone while Cal pinned her shoulders against the sand with all his weight.
"Nice and slow," Cal added, "and be careful not to cut too deep. You don t wanna cut into the intestines."
Slowly, Cindy pulled the blade towards her. The knife passed smoothly through the soft flesh of Sharon's abdomen, leaving in its wake a deep furrow edged with rich red meat. The blade neatly bisected her triangular navel in half. Sharon bucked and quivered beneath them, the gag muffling her screams of agony. Cindy continued to draw the knife across her belly, until she reached the patch of brown hair between Sharon s legs.
Cal inserted his fingers into the long incision, and pulled the edges of flesh apart. They peered into Sharon's belly, contemplating the tightly packed coils of gut which filled her. Cindy tentatively reached her hand into the woman's gaping abdomen, then recoiled.
"Ick . . . it feels like warm Jello in there . . . you do it."
Cal reached into her belly, grabbed a mass of entrails in his hands and tugged gently; the soft glistening tissue lifted out with little effort. He dropped the section of twisted, fleshy tubing onto the sand. Soon, both of Cal's arms were buried up to the elbow in Sharon's torso, pulling out long loops of brownish-grey bowel, followed by the rest of the woman s internal organs. Cindy knelt on the woman's other side, intently watching the painstaking process.
Halfway through, Sharon shuddered, then was still. Her open eyes stared up at the blue sky.
"Is that everything?" He said, half to himself.
"Sorry, I wasn't taking inventory . . . besides, it all looks alike to me." Cindy replied.
Cal wandered down to the edge of the lagoon, and washed his arms off. He carried back a pail of seawater, and scrubbed the woman's body with the palm of his hand.
He poured the rest of the bucket into the empty cavity of her belly. Pink water trickled out through the lips of her vagina, and Cal grabbed her beneath the arms, half-sitting her up, to speed up the draining. Still holding Sharon's corpse beneath the arms, he dragged her up the beach and into the small clearing and laid her out alongside the fire pit. Then he lit the tinder beneath the long pile of firewood.
A second cabin cruiser arrived in the lagoon and dropped anchor. Cindy waved to them as they waded ashore, lugging with them another large ice-chest.
"So, how is dinner shaping up?" The man asked.
"She's one of the best we've had so far . . . young and tender." Cindy said, "We just finished getting her ready for the fire. Cal's got her up at the fire pit now."
The man and woman followed Cindy along the narrow path to find Cal sitting between the pit of glowing coals and Sharon's nude form.
"So, Bill . . . whatcha think of her?" He asked, reaching over to pat Sharon's corpse on the hip.
"Mmmm . . . look at those breasts," Bill said, standing over Sharon and staring down at her body, "She looks good enough to eat raw!"
"The fires just about ready for us to start cooking."
Bill took an apple from the hamper. Prying the woman's mouth open, he pulled out the tiny bits of her bikini top and stuffed the large red fruit between her teeth.
Cal sat down next to the woman's body and broke off a dry branch into a foot long length. Sharpening both ends, he used the stick to prop open the long incision in her abdomen. Cindy laid down a thick mat of banana leaves. Bill grabbed the woman's body beneath the arms, and Cal lifted her by the ankles, and together they placed her gently onto the bed of green leaves.
Picking up a dozen of the smaller fire-heated rocks between two sticks, he stuffed them into the open incision, then yanked the stick away. Cindy and Emily worked together at arranging the leaf-wrapped vegetables along her legs. As a finishing touch, Bill placed a ring of fresh pineapple atop each breast.
Steam was already beginning to pour out of the first layer of leaves. They covered Sharon with another layer of banana leaves, then laid a large section of canvas tarp across the top of the fire pit. Cal carefully buried the edges of the canvas with small rocks, then covered the whole heap with a thick layer of sand to hold in the steam.
The next few hours were devoted to the final preparations for the feast. They set up two long folding tables brought from the boats. As Cindy set the table, Emily began to hang brightly colored Japanese lanterns around the clearing.
An hour after sunset, Cal pulled away the canvas, and a cloud of steam rolled skyward from the pit, fragrant with the mouth-watering aroma of Sharon's cooked flesh. He carefully lifted away the limp banana leaves to expose the woman's body. Poking her in the thigh with a meat fork, he watched a thin trail of juice slowly trickle down over her side, and nodded his approval.
The two men eased Sharon's body onto a long plank, then hoisted it aloft and carried it to the table. In the golden light of the torches, Sharon's skin glistened with the juices her flesh had released as it slowly cooked beneath its blanket of leaves, and small wisps of steam wafted from her mouth and between her legs.
Cindy picked the cooked corn and potatoes and yams out of the ashes and placed them on a platter. Bill cut the rope that bound her ankles together. The two couples stood there for a moment, inhaling the aroma of Sharon's cooked meat and contemplating the banquet that awaited them.
Bill lifted up Sharon's leg, and Cal poised the knife and began to carve. He thrust the tip of the knife into Sharon's thigh just below the hip, and cut around the circumference of her leg. He did the same again just above her knee, then cut along the length of her thigh. The cooked meat separated easily from the bone. Cal skewered the thick, curved piece of steaming flesh with his fork, and placed it on the carving board.
Turning his attention to the woman's torso, he sliced off her right breast, then her left, and placed each plump mound, onto the carving board. Finally, he removed the two large steaks of meat on either side of the long incision in the woman's belly.
"Breasts, belly and thigh . . . what more could anyone ask for in life?" He said looking down at the carving board, his mouth watering.
Cindy, Emily and Bill took their place at the table while Cal loaded their plates with the choicest cuts of Sharon's tender flesh. Slicing both breasts in half, he placed a portion on each plate, followed by a plump steak of her belly meat and a thick piece of her meaty thigh. As Cal sat down, Cindy passed around the vegetables that had roasted alongside the woman.
Sharon's flesh was tender and juicy, each mouthful cooked to perfection. Her breasts were moist and fatty, the flesh of her belly firm and succulent, the meat of her thighs rich and delicate. They gorged themselves on the choicest portions of the woman's body. When they had cleaned off their plates each helped themselves to another heaping serving of the woman's savory meat.
In the dim light of the lanterns, Cindy looked over the remnants of Sharon's body. The front of her rib-cage had been completely stripped of meat, as had her abdomen. Only part of one thigh remained untouched; Both calves were still intact, as were both buttocks and her back. More than enough to ensure that tomorrow morning they could feast again. Whatever odd bits and pieces remained uneaten would be doggie-bagged and took home with them.
Their bellies bloated with Sharon's rich flesh, they stretched out on the sand next to the fire pit, basking in its warmth. Cindy nestled her head against Cal's chest.
"You were right . . . she was absolutely delicious. . . ."
"Yeah. A really choice piece of meat," he said, picking a small shred of Sharon out of his teeth.