Free Story Sample

Warning!  This tale contains graphic language, blood and gore and adult situations.  If you are under the age of 18, exit now!


Booby Prize

The small Cessna soared through the sky above the dense Amazon jungle.  Jim “Buck” Reynolds took great delight in dropping and climbing suddenly just to disturb his yapping passengers.  Behind him, in the cabin, were a group of models and their handlers chattering, laughing, and drinking.  But above all, they were just flat out annoying him to the point of making Buck want to scream.

     Pack of big titted cows, he muttered to himself looking over his shoulder at their promoter. 

     The short blonde man with the thinning hair was doting on his charges just hoping for one of them to throw him a bone in the form of sex.  His name was Tim Ferguson, a slimy character with too many teeth to be smiling that much.

    Beside him was a fat, sweating hulk that had a firm grip on several expensive cameras.  This was Jake Proctor, the photographer from “Big Bouncy Jugs” magazine.  The bald cameraman was turning a light shade of green from Buck’s aerial acrobatics.

    With her tiny hand on Tim’s knee was Beth.  The blonde woman (5’3” 116 pounds, with 38EE breasts) was practically oozing charm and open sensuality.  She was an up-and-comer to the busty girl mag.  Buck had to listen to her self-absorbed rhetoric until he felt sick.  Her body was stuffed into a blue terry cloth dress, two sizes too small.

     Squashed next to Beth was Ashley LaVeau, a 5’5” brunette with a chest larger than Beth’s.  She was a two-year veteran of these types of publications.  Dressed in a white bikini top (which barely covered her fist sized nipples) and a tropical colored sarong she sat there unmoving. She had a look of pure tedium on her face.  She had informed him, in no uncertain terms her refusal to do hardcore shoots despite Tim’s constant insistence. 

    At the far side was Rachel Woods, an auburn girl whose implants had made Buck nearly spit out his teeth the first time he was introduced to her.  Standing at 5’8”, her 44EE bosom was ridiculously massive even for her tall frame.  The woman’s one piece, blue striped bathing suit strained from her overabundant globes of flesh.  Rachel kept rubbing her nose, a sure sign of a cocaine addiction.

     Who the heck likes girls with such big bazookas? he asked himself, the nose of the Cessna climbing into the summer sky.  I like my women a lot smaller, a little darker, and possessing some resemblance of a personality.

     But he had been hired to take these bimbos to a nearby Mayan temple so they could pose for a dozen or so rolls of film.  It had been a touchy landing followed by a nerve-wracking take-off from the small dirt runway.  Now about an hour away from their destination, the booze was flowing as heavy as the sexual innuendoes.  It was only a matter of time before Beth’s inhibitions fell to the ground along with her dress.   Rachel fidgeted with her purse.

     Which probably has her stash of the Devil’s Dandruff, he thought darkly. 

     Ashley sighed once more in boredom and Jake was still trying not to puke all over everyone.

     As he leveled out the old aircraft there was a sudden puff of black smoke from the engine compartment followed by a chilling loss of power.  He struggled with the sluggish controls as his passengers began to shout questions.

    “Shut up!” Buck yelled at them as he fought to maintain airspeed and thus altitude. 

It was a losing effort, the engine died and soon the controls were as dead in his hands as they all soon would be.

    “We’re all gonna die!” the fat photographer squealed, the women screaming shrilly in the background.

Buck yanked hard on the yoke as the ground rushed up at them.  The small plane slammed into the treetops snapping off the wings, tail, and fixed landing gear.  Buck let go of the yoke, as there was nothing he could do without control surfaces.  He saw a monstrously sized tree, which loomed up filling the canopy.  He quickly made his peace with God as the nose of the aircraft slammed into it.


     “Oh my head,” Rachel complained as she came to.  “What the hell happened?”

She looked around to see the others had been tossed around like rag dolls in the tiny body of the plane.  Blood trickled from the pilot’s chair and she heard Beth scream like a sissy.  The shattered remains of the pilot’s head teetered disturbingly on his broken neck.  A trail of slimy gore trickled in a greasily manner down the battered chair he sat in.  That alone, shook Rachel from the pounding headache she had.

     “Shut up, shut up!” she shrieked at the hysterical twenty-year old.  “Yeah he’s dead, just deal with it!”

    “Where are we?” Tim asked as he groggily came to.

    “We crashed you fucking moron!” she answered back angrily.  “We’re in the fucking jungle a thousand miles from civilization!”

     “Well yelling at Tim isn’t going to make it better!” Ashley fired back.

     “Close your trap, bitch!” Rachel snapped.

    “Everybody chill!” Tim ordered and for some reason they did.  “We have to get out of here; can’t you smell the aircraft fuel?”

     Rachel took a tentative sniff.  Sure enough the harsh stink of petrol filled her nostrils.  Snatching up her purse (complete with a hidden baggie of coke) she staggered to her feet.  From the rest of the seats began a frantic race to grab what luggage they brought and exit the plane quickly before it caught fire.

     They gathered fifty yards away from the smoking ruin when it exploded in a fireball that rapidly spread to the foliage and trees.  Pelting aimlessly into the jungle Rachel noted they had no idea where they were going.

     “I heard there are tribes in this region,” Beth wailed stupidly as she stumbled on some roots lying on the forest floor.  “I hope they’re friendly.”

    “Don’t worry, babe,” Tim began.  “I think I can…”

Rachel’s eyes bugged out as a thin spear appeared out of nowhere and embedded itself into his chest.  He let out a soft moan and slumped to the ground white-faced. Jake went down next as a spear drove through one eye spraying Beth with hot blood.

    “Tim! Oh my God!  Tim!” Beth caterwauled as she fell to the ground beside his corpse.

     Rachel turned and looked around.  Suddenly a dozen small, nut-brown men stepped out of the thick jungle.  They had black, bowl-cut hair, red painted faces, and beady black eyes.  They all seemed to be bow-legged with heavy paunches that jutted over narrow loincloths and thin hips.  Each one held several spears, kin to the one sticking out of Tim and Jake’s body.  As the younger woman cried out in disgust and horror, their murderers quickly surrounded them.  In an amazing turn of events, the Amazonian natives fell to their knees and began bowing profusely to the women.

     “W-what are they doing?” Beth whined.

     “I think they believe we’re goddesses from the sky!” Rachel surmised with a grin.

     “Of course we are,” Ashley said with a laugh.    

   The men got up from the ground and with hurried gestures signaled for them to follow.

    “I don’t know about this,” Beth whimpered.  “They did kill Tim and Jake after all!”

    “Perhaps they don’t have male gods,” Rachel suggested.

    “We don’t have a choice, they’ll kill us too if we run,” Ashley put it.  The women began walking, and the natives rapidly took up protective positions around them.


     The village was sparse, dirty, and busy.  All around the encampment Rachel could see all activity stop as the white women were paraded proudly through the huts.  Native girls and children ran over hurriedly and jumped up and down chanting in a strange language.  Rachel noted that many new mothers held their babies who all seemed to have shrunken bellies and bony, spidery limbs. 

     “They look hungry, the poor things” she thought to herself sadly.  To her revulsion the other two models began to bounce their massive breasts and waggle their asses at the men.

     They were escorted to a clean, dry hut.  Before they could talk several preteen girls rushed into the coolness of the woven structure to wash them down.  The nut-brown females chattered and giggled as they saw to the comfort of their newly arrived guests.


     Night had fallen.  Rachel looked around the bonfire as the small men danced and performed.  She and the other girls were standing next to the chief who sat on an in elaborate chair adorned with feathers and leopard skins.  They had been fed and treated like royalty.  The gruesome deaths of Jake and Tim were now long forgotten due to their unexpected celebrity status.  She didn’t know the language, but the leaping figures seemed to tell a story.  She was interrupted in her analysis of it by Beth’s braying voice.

     “I could get used to this, what about you, Ray?” she asked in all too familiar tones.

     “Shush!  I’m trying to figure this out,” the auburn haired woman retorted.

     “We could be queens of this village,” Ashley butted in tossing her brown hair over her shoulder.  “It might not be so bad.”

    “You would settle for that, wouldn’t you?” Beth said in a catty tone.  “Men throwing themselves at your feet…”

    “Hush you two! The ceremony is done!” Rachel whispered harshly.

     The chief of the village stood up and muttered a long line of words none of them understood.  He crowned each of them with a garland of jungle flowers as three young men came forward to lead them to one side far from the leaping flames.

     “Hmm,” Ashley giggled coyly.  “Mine’s kinda cute!”

    “If you like ‘em short, pot-bellied, and bow legged,” Beth complained.

They lead the women to a trio of tall, carved poles with a chair underneath.  Each one sat down, Rachel in the center with Beth to her right and Ashley to the left.  The young men stood behind them as the short, squat leader of the tribe announced something to the cheers of the rest of them.

     “What’s going on?” Beth inquired.  “Are we being honored?”

    “Of course we are silly,” Ashley smirked.  “They’ve never seen beauty like ours before in their entire miserable lives.”

   Women, their breasts sagging like empty wineskins, ran over and thrust newborns into each of the startled models’ arms.  Rachel looked at her co-workers as they began to laugh.  The babies, mouths straining for the lush, over-ripeness of the woman’s enhanced bosoms cried in heartbreaking tones.  Jokingly Ashley tugged down the front of her dress and pushed the squalling brat to her exposed nipple.

    “See little one,” she howled as it sucked in vain.  “I haven’t a drop to spare!”

The joke was lost on the tribe and Beth duplicated the brunette’s cruel jest.  The chief shouted something in a tone that wasn’t at all friendly.  The women rushed forward and pulled the babes from their arms.

    Without warning coarse vine-woven ropes dropped over them from above and behind.  Before they could move the three women were pinned to their seats.

    “Oh my God, what are they going to do?!” Beth screeched wildly as she wiggled and fought the rope around her middle.  Tears poured down her cheeks as she wept.
     Rachel watched in horror as the chief came up and cut the sobbing blonde’s throat.  A bright splash of scarlet blood splattered the woman’s blue dress and bosom.  She could hear Ashley screaming and she looked over in time, as the woman’s gullet was slit wide open.  The soft wet explosion painted her white bikini top and flowery sarong with terrible gore as she thrashed weakly against her bonds.  As the man behind her put the knife to her throat and smiled.  Rachel noted for the first time his filed down and pointed teeth.  She looked across to see the chief cut into Beth’s right breast and jump back as her implants burst.  He snorted a disgusted and disappointed sound tossing the knife to the ground.

 “They’re cannibals!” she screamed to the heavens as the dawning realization hit. “I guess we’ll feed them one way or the other!”

     A hot line was etched across Rachel’s throat.  All she could do was gurgle in horror and fear as a river of hot blood rushed down her massive chest and turned into a river in her cleavage.


     The chief walked away as the women-folk sauntered up to start butchering the strangers.  They had prayed to the Gods to send help.  The strangers had come from the sky and he thought the six babies would be well fed by the bountiful breasts of those sent by them.  The hunters had slain the stranger’s captors, but now he realized they had been tricked. 

     “At least there will be meat for my people,” he mused as he walked to his hut.  “The Gods are fickle…and have a strange sense of humor.”



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