Chapter 18

With the rising full moon I figured we had been on the island seven months. We still maintained the large SOS on the beach and the ready signal fire. But these tasks had become simple routine, losing importance as critical necessities. Civilization was becoming a fading memory as we adapted to the realities of our island existence.

Kimberly was at the bottom of the new social hierarchy. She had to learn all the tedious drudge jobs necessary for a clean, functioning camp that the other girl's had come to loath. It was not that that the work was so hard but being the "low man" on the totem pool was a stigma. This position had become known unaffectionately as the "camp slut".

Kimberly's responsibilities included the campfire, cooking, cleaning, salvaging and in her spare time the monotonously ongoing weaving and repair of the grass mats we sat and sleep on.

Her Mistress was a diligent taskmaster. Jennifer instinctively used methods of negative and positive reinforcement as she taught Kimberly what was expected of her. I immediately perceived Kimberly was going to be a better "campslut" than the two prior versions had been.

I noticed the rough sheet metal plates we cooked from immediately lost the imbedded dark build-up from the surface cracks and folds. The previous kitchen help had sworn this infused matter was ingrained. The fire seemed to smoke less and the food was more carefully prepared. I had been pleased to find my supper without the typical scorched edges. I had come to accept these annoyances and their sudden absence was not missed. Kimberly was instantly recognized as having a calling.

Jennifer would not let her stand upright the first few days. She was forced to crawl or crab walk. Jennifer would walk her down to the beach on a leash like a dog to relieve herself. But, as it became evident this hampering means of locomotion was hindering Kimberly's efficient abilities, Jennifer loosened her rein somewhat.

We had come to crave red meat. Monkey meat was tough and good only in a stew. When we would bring down one of the "rat pigs" there was exuberance about the camp. These animals were crafty and had become aware of our threat. They would squeal and vanish at the first sign of us. We had to use all our developing skills to kill them.

The previous evening Jennifer had taken Kimberly hunting. They had spent the night at our hunting "high camp." At dawn Jennifer planned to stake out at a well-marked water hole she had found. At dusk I had watched the pair depart. A regal Jennifer leading and Kimberly, burdened by spears and other equipment, close behind.

The next morning they returned in triumph. I had seen them emerge from the jungle with their prize suspended from a pole they carried between them. We always slaughtered a quarter mile from the camp at an oddly wind-bent palm. The palm's low-slung strength permitted an easy method of hanging the carcass. Jennifer was now instructing Kimberly on how to butcher. Kimberly knelt attentively at the standing Jennifer's feet. The creature was dangling upside down by a single back leg.

Jennifer ran her stone down the edge of her machete. "You cut here, here and here," she demonstrated. Using the knife she slit opened the carcass from chest to abdomen. A mass of guts spilled out splashing the too close Kimberly with blood and offal. Kimberly shuddered but did not move.

I walked up on the two at this moment. Kimberly turned her head to me. She looked forlorn. Blood speckled her beautiful features.

"Now reach in there and pull all those guts out so I can cut it clear," an all-business Jennifer instructed. Again Kimberly shuddered. But bravely she reached up and avoiding contact until the last moment made a gingerly touch, then a full grasp of the inner intestines.

"Pull it down," Jennifer said as she reached in and cut.

The ropy mass dropped nearly in Kimberly's lap. She let out a quiet moan and I could see was fighting an overwhelming impulse to recoil backwards.

Jennifer seemed assured of her slave's training and continued to concentrate on finishing her gruesome task. She cut the lungs and heart free and held them to Kimberly.

"Go set those in the sun. They will draw crabs to the traps tonight," she said and pushed them against the older woman's outthrust bosom. Kimberly's hands came up and she grasped the formless mass to herself. I saw blood pool in the deep cavity of her breasts from a draining cavity of the creature's heart. As she stood I watched rivulets trail down her smooth stomach and legs. Kimberly hurried into the sunlight leaving bloody footprints in the sand.

I watched her go and found myself desiring her in some strong primitive fashion.

"Jennifer I think the time has come for Kimberly," I said.

Jennifer had been concentrating as she precisely cut some of the tender muscle at the loin. She looked over at me and smiled broadly.

"I wondered how long you could hold off wanting your share of that prime stuff," she replied. She dropped the choice cut on a nearby metal plate. "Any particular way you want it served ol' Master?" she asked smirking.

"Rare" I said.

After the butchering the two girls were in need of a bath. Jennifer suggested I come along and witness Kimberly's new talent. She told me that the switch had overcome Kimberly's initial refusal to perform cunnilingus. Jennifer added that over the past couple days she had shown progressive improvement. The nearby silent Kimberly had blushed in embarrassment at Jennifer's words.

At the pool Kimberly knelt between a regally sitting Jennifer's thighs. The two females were in the clear shallows below the falls. There was a partially submerged rock there, which was very convenient for sitting while washing. The water rose to the Kimberly's nipples, which had tautened in the coolness. Their buoyancy lifted her large breasts. Both girl's glistened nakedly in the waterfall's mist.