Dropping In For The Feast

I had been living in the jungle on and off for the last three years studying several tribes of people who had their natural food supplies wiped out. There was some exploratory mining in the area several years ago, and the actions of the heavy machinery temporarily displaced much of the natural wildlife from the lush region. Most tribes had moved to where the food animals had moved to, and as a result were doing fine. Others had benefited from MRE's, and other kinds of food dropped from huge cargo planes, arranged by the mining company to provide for the tribes until the animals they ordinarily ate returned. The reason I was in the jungle was even after the animals had returned, the various tribes had not all returned to their previous self sufficient ways of life, and this offered itself as a living experiment on human behavior. The experiment was especially interesting as it mirrored what a great deal of "civilised" society was also doing these days.

The mining company wanted to end it's obligation to feed the tribes for several reasons, not the least of which was it cost them a fortune. My team and I were there to covertly observe, and advise the mining company as to the most efficient method for weaning the tribes off of the mining companies dole. We were strictly not allowed to interfere with the tribes in any way, and although I understood the language well enough from our review of the recordings we made of their daily life, we still avoided them for their own good. The group we were presently observing had seen their air dropped food reduced in both frequency and quantity, and our weekly satellite email contacts documented this. We also had several small remote cameras covertly placed in and around the villages to record their actions when we weren't around, and we sent those videos as well when the up link was good enough.

We were getting ready to leave the group we were secretly watching when we heard the unmistakable sound of the huge cargo plane's engines flying overhead, and it was comical to see everybody's head turn to the sky to see what presents were getting dropped to them by the generous big green bird. We did the same thing ourselves, but only because they weren't scheduled to be making another drop for weeks. We decided to bug out of our hiding place as the tribesmen were getting aggressive lately with each other over their limited food, but had not turned that desire for food into natural hunting and gathering either.

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There were two primary ways to get to the villages we were visiting, hike in through the torn up paths the mining men had made with their equipment like we did, or for the truly courageous, parachute out of a plane and hope you hit the clearing and not the dense tree cover. The area was too rough to land a helicopter in, and the local rivers were full of spectacular waterfalls too difficult to navigate with anything but small canoes portaged around the waterfalls. It was one of these waterfalls that we retreated to, a kind of safety area we had set up with real food and some medicine, and the three guys in my team were happy to be back to it for more than one reason.

I was the team leader, and as such I was charged with keeping the guys satisfied and out of trouble. It was well known at the company that healthy adults would have a hard time abstaining from sex for months at a time, and they had taken to ensuring there was at least one women on each team, and we were paid a hansom bonus to be there. I had asked for another woman for my team months ago as taking care of three healthy young men all by myself was getting the best of me. We all bathed in the refreshingly cold water, and despite the water temperature the guys were showing their desire for me in the most obvious of ways. At first when I came onto the team I would sneak away with one of the guys and let nature take it's course, but these days with all of us sleeping in one tent, and only me for the guys to share, we had what amounts to an orgy between the four of us. Our favorite phrase "what happens in the jungle, stays in the jungle", always made me laugh.

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About the same time as I was attempting to satisfy three hansome men all at the same time, the tribe we quickly left were collecting what the plane had apparently dropped to them. The company had finally sent another woman, but she was my boss Becky who probably wanted to do some kind of surprise field evaluation on me. Her entrance was meant to be courageously spectacular, but it had backfired horribly on her. The four of us hiked in when we first arrived, as did every one of the other team members watching the tribes, and to the best of my knowledge the natives had only seen food dropped from the air.

Our solar powered remote cameras caught her botched landing and started recording. It was easy to see her because she had opted for a bright orange nylon jump suit that clung to her body like a second skin, ironically the same color as the food packages usually dropped to the tribes. She had achieved her position at the company by sleeping her way there, and the fact that she was purported to be an energetic lover without conscience or limits probably explained how such a relatively young woman got so far in such a short career. If she had called ahead we could have advised her not to do the drop, especially dressed like an MRE, but that would have eliminated the element of surprise she wanted to achieve, no doubt to catch me doing something wrong.

The natives found her quick enough, she was suspended about fifteen feet off of the ground with her arms stuck over her head twisted up in her riser controls. She couldn't cut away with her wrists trapped as they were, and even if she could the drop could likely break one of her thin legs. To the tribesmen she was nothing but a wiggling orange sack of free food, different than any others they had received from the huge and noisy green bird that had taken to feeding them, but still enough for a tribal feast. The tribesmen used lasso's to catch her slender kicking legs and then pulled her down where they could almost reach her, and it took many of them hanging on the ropes to flex the stout limb she was stuck on. The men were then able to grab the small bag with her clothes and other gear hanging down behind her on her tether, it was designed to hit the ground first when she landed to lessen the impact on her body. The men hauled down on her bag and the thin nylon jump suit ripped away exposing her lovely body to the excited men.

We had mixed emotions watching Becky's capture recorded on our hidden cameras. While we felt sorry for what had happened to our opportunistic coworker, we were also proud to see the tribesmen use some simple problem solving techniques to recover her from the tree. Could this be the start of some form of self sufficiency for them? It was good the recording was days old less we have to make a painful decision about violating our directives regarding interference with the tribe. As it was we were only watching what had already occurred for the purpose of completing our reports.

With some more effort their struggling and cursing captive was free of her harness, and it was fortunate the tribesmen didn't understand the insults hurled at them from her foul mouth. Her wrists were secured more firmly with the riser cords she was twisted up in, and the ropes around her ankles used to pull her to within reach were left in place and secured to each other. A long pole was slipped between both, and she was carried back to their village hanging down from it much like a prize gazelle.

Once back at the village she was in the field of view of several cameras, and her belongings were removed from her bag and picked through by the village women. They held up her lacy things to their nearly naked bodies and made quite the show of mimicking the very irritated and helpless Becky, and her clothes and other belongings were distributed between the women never to be seen again. The men then directed their taunting women to prepare a bed of coals like they used to do when the tribe hunted, and with their women busy with a task that could take hours, the men decided it would be OK to play with their food before they ate it this one time.

Why the great green bird had given them such a fine looking meal was not questioned, but I gathered by their discussions that they suspected if they didn't enjoy this one they wouldn't get another. The men quickly lashed together an X frame and secured the struggling Becky to it tautly, spread eagle. The frame was then carried over to a cluster of trees, (ironically close to one of our hidden cameras), and suspended from them horizontally with more ropes. She was still struggling even though she was secured wrist and ankle, knee and elbow to the X frame, and we could clearly hear her curses over the small microphones built into the various cameras as we watched an event that had already happened. The cameras were set to dump all their data to the up link on their own when the SD chips were nearly full if we didn't get to them first, but with so much data in that file it could be weeks before anybody watched it back home.

The villagers had apparently heard enough from their free meal, and moments later her mouth was forced open and then stuffed with their local version of an apple, but this fruit was bitter and a well documented narcotic/aphrodisiac. It was a firm fruit and especially potent if picked early, and one of the men had to force her jaw closed to bury her teeth into it to effectively gag her. With her curses silenced the village men all collectively breathed a sigh of relief, and the village elder used his sharp knife to slice away what little she was left wearing.

We were surprised not to see Becky spit out the apple like fruit when we watched the recording, but we found out from subsequent tests on myself that her jaw muscles were likely already relaxed by the effects of the juice seeping into her mouth, but that didn't stop her from trying to break free of her bonds when the village elder stood between her splayed legs. He took in her pale skinned perfection before he parted his grass skirt and revealed to us his massive erect manhood, and without pause he thrust forward in one impaling motion. He then grabbed her ample breasts roughly in his calloused hands and used them like handrails, and he laughed at her struggling antics as her frame swung wildly on the ropes it was suspended from.

Becky soon stopped her struggling, and her head rolled all the way back as she began emitting little mewing noises in a way that left little doubt that the apple's other effects were taking hold. The village elder was a man of considerable vitality, and we watched Becky's toes clench and point in obvious orgasm several times before the elder apparently filled her, with his excess spilling on the ground after it ran between her clenching ass cheeks. It was an orderly event even though some of the men were quite rough with her when it was their turn, and when we saw the pattern repeated over and over again we fast forwarded through several hours of recordings to see what finally happened to her.

Becky's clenching ass became a second favorite target for the tribesmen as the guys on my team asked me to slow the tape so they could watch it, just so they could write an accurate report. At first we heard her squeals of surprise past her gag when they entered her there, but moments later she pointed her toes again in orgasm, and with the above average size of the tribesmen it left little doubt that Becky was no stranger to that act either.

When all of the tribesmen finally had enough a large staff was brought out by the tribal women, along with a basket of the special apples. The elders wife looked toward Becky and the mess clearly deposited under her with a mix of disdain and amusement as she shook her head slowly. The exhausted men left Becky to the care of the village women as they retreated to the fire pit to nap until dinner was ready. The staff the women had was ten feet long, blunt on one end and sanded smooth it's entire length. The ladies cut the special apples in half, careful not to touch the fruit inside, and they smeared most of the shaft with a thick coating of the slippery juice as we watched in silent horror. It's one thing to suspect what happened to Becky, quite another to actually watch it happen in digital clarity.

Becky's head was rolled back and it looked as if she were unconscious, and I willed it to be so as I watched the village women line up the blunt end of the great staff between her splayed legs. Both her ass and womanhood were gaping open from their earlier abuse, and we watched in morbid fascination as we wondered where the staff would be made to enter her. The camera angle was perfect as we watched the women start the thick staff into her abused womanhood, and the second it entered her she pulled frantically at her bonds in an attempt to escape. The women were much more patient than the men, and the staff was left to sit just inside of her as the special apples did their magic.

It was amazing to see, but soon Becky was rolling her taut stomach muscles and thrusting down on the invading staff to the limit her bonds would permit. That was the sign the village women were apparently looking for, and Becky started impaling herself on their staff inch by horrible inch. She worked her way down their staff stopping occasionally to shudder in orgasm, and the ladies only had to hold the thing and not give up any slack to Becky. Ten inches or so in she howled past her gag as something inside her body gave way, but she resumed her steady self impalement as I wondered what could cause a woman to willingly participate in her own self destruction like that. It was fascinating, in a dark kind of way, but I didn't realise how erotically exciting it was until I caught myself rubbing at myself. I discretely looked around and noticed the guys were no better than I, and judging by the growing stain in his shorts one of them had already came.

Becky continued her slow progress toward the end of the staff, and the ladies never forced her to take any more that she wanted. We could now follow the impaling staff's progress as it pushed up on her stomach muscles from the inside, and I suddenly realised that the staff was not cylindrical, but tapered, and the girth of part now entering her womanhood was stretching it out obscenely. I don't know if I even blinked for the next fifteen minutes, but when Becky's head rolled all the way back I figured she was done for, and while she was apparently a willing and enthusiastic participant in her impalement, I was happy it was over for her sake. I suspected what was to come next, as did the others, but I couldn't bring myself to speak it out loud.

I was horrified moments later to see Becky was still conscious as she arched her back lewdly, and her actions apparently startled the village women as well as I could tell from their banter that it was unusual for their meat to survive this process. She couldn't work herself down onto the staff any further by herself, but she wasn't going anywhere either, and the village women untied her arms and legs and placed three short staffs through various holes bored into the large end of her staff below her ass. In a reverent and respectful way for what Becky had endured, the village ladies gently stood Becky's staff upright on its end, and what she couldn't accomplish on her own gravity did for her.

With her back still arched she slid down her staff until the short staff entered her other abused passage, and although it's girth was a small portion of what was inside her womanhood, it still stopped her downward progress. The second short staff went behind her knees as they were tied off as well, and the third was used to secure her ankles. I was so preoccupied watching what was happening below her ass that I missed the apple between her teeth being pushed out with a pop by the blunt end of the staff, and a good eighteen inches of it was now protruding out of her mouth as her jaws were held wide by it's girth. I had to back up the recording several times before I actually believed what I just saw, and the last time I could see she was still somehow breathing!

As she was held vertically her wrists were tied together tightly behind her back, as were her elbows, and her wrist rope was lead to the short staff impaling her back side and pulled tight. I knew they weren't doing that because they thought she could somehow wiggle off of the staff and escape, and logic told me as horrible as this was, there was likely more to come.

The still living Becky was lowered and gently carried out of the field of view of that series of cameras by the village women, with the staff's ends resting on their shoulders just as the men earlier had brought her into the village. There was only one camera working at their destination, but that was enough as we watched the ladies place the spit on two rocks carved out to hold it while it was turned slowly over the hot coals. Becky could be seen twitching and humping back and forth on her impaling spit as her heavy breasts rolled with each rotation of the spit. She was basted with the special apples until she stopped moving, and at no point seemed in any pain despite the horror of what we watched. We were numb with shock by the time Becky was done cooking, and we didn't even watch the actual feast at that time, but I did many times over in the following months.

We wanted to leave the area, but not before we reported what happened, and as we were asked to stay for a few days I volunteered to take a taste of one of the special apples, purely for scientific purposes. What fruit could make a woman get that horned up that she would literally hump herself to ruin? I had to find out, if for no other reason but to have closure on the whole terrible event. I ate the smallest of pieces, just a nibble, and after that I didn't remember much, but the guys told me I was out of control. Apparently after they all had as much of me as they could handle they had to tie me down to prevent me from running off looking for more men to satisfy my lust. We went home days later, as did all the other teams, and we even left the cameras in place as none of us wanted to recover them.

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We were all reassigned, and I eventually left the company, but unknown to my coworkers I retained a copy of the whole event and I watched it often while impaling myself on the largest dong I could take. The company had dumped the up link info for the still working cameras as a liability limiting maneuver before I could talk them out of it, and the only way to reestablish the up link was to enter it by radio signal within sight of the cameras. I searched for other "snuff" films on line to see if they would have the same effect on me, but none looked the slightest bit real compared to what I had.

I contacted a custom film maker to enquire about obtaining a real "snuff" film like the one I had, and once he realised I was no cop we discussed what it would cost. He made it clear that he wouldn't do real snuff, but that he could do a subject of my choice with willing actors that would look frighteningly real. I described the event I had a tape of, and I asked what something like that would be worth. He listened to me with unconcealed excitement as I explained every detail, and he told me 4.3. I turned the deal around on him and explained what I had, and what I wanted for it, especially since it was one hundred percent real. To make a long story short I sold him my film under the conditions that it only be distributed to a very limited audience, and as that's where the most profit and safety is, he readily agreed.

I had money to travel, and I disappeared with it, but I was drawn to that village like a moth to a flame. I decided if I could travel back there one more time and establish a new up link for the cameras I could watch those savages roast women all the time and sell the best of them to my friend in the movie business, after I got off on them myself...

To be continued...

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13.07.13