1. Native Claim


    Date: 9/29/2016, Categories: Dark Fantasy, Cannibalism, Girls / Female, Author: ninja5, Rating: 73.3, Source: sexstories.com

    temporary paralysis gone and the mercy of its numbness not able to sedate the coming heat that was the fire being built beneath the oven. Jillian’s beauty made the scene the more terrifying. Billings watched on in paralysed horror, choking as he tried to swallow, as one of the supposed female cooks placed a long root vegetable, like a carrot, in her sex. Another woman poured an oil over her soft skin and started painting her body with her hand, rubbing her down. He stepped out of time as the panic of the scene sent him into shock. It was not a ritual that was rare to them. The deliberate actions of a few of the tribe spoke of roles and responsibilities – a honed procedure that had been practised. Billings was staring at Jillian as she was helplessly prepared for the oven whose fire had been perfected with similar practise. The whole time Billings stood stunned at the entrance to the Chiefs hut Jillian’s eyes stared at him in wide horror pleaded for some type of rescue as the native hands caressed her body finishing of her preparation. Finally the time came for the tribes spoils to be cooked and the preparers surrendered their intimacy of the redheaded bounty won in their deal. A man stepped forward and started pushing the ceramic tray towards the hatch of the oven. Jillian’s moans and sobs finally became audible as her eyes darted with panic as she realised the immanence of her fate. Billings clasped the tablet that contained the contracts as the clay oven swallowed Jillian ...
    and the sobs became a muffled scream. Billings stumbled as he ran down the trail that led back to the beach. As the hatch on the oven had been closed and the transfixing horror of Jillian’s preparation became concealed his brain had finally let his impotent mind to flee. As he ran in panic he stumbled and fell, his aging body wasn’t aware of jarring joints and stubbed toes. Frantically he picked himself up and continued to run, the whole time clasping the tablet as if his life depended upon. As the encroaching trees parted and he stumbled unto the open beach he allowed himself to look back. No one was following. The tribe was all enjoying Jillian’s song of terror and agony as she roasted in the oven. Billings could hear her too – or his terror meant he imagined with a clarity only seeing the precursory acts would allow. His desperation to flee meant that he could at least remember the radio. He snatched it to his mouth and pressed the button. The small outboard boat sounded its approach long before Billings could see its answer to his desperate call for it. Nahuatl stood again at the helm only this time he spun to boat around and reversed back onto the beach. Billings ran forward in bare feet holding the contract to his chest and launched his upper body into the boat. He fell into the canopy of his rescue vessel and before he had even pulled his legs in shouted, “Go. Go!” Nahuatl paused and peered at the beach looking for Jillian. “Go”, Billings pleaded. “Just fucking go you ...
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