The Mission

"Excuse me?" said Leigh. She and Betty had already been surprised that the tribal chieftan spoke perfect English. It was going to make their missionary efforts so much easier. But this was the weirdest question she had ever heard.

"You heard right. Hunting has been very bad and my people want meat. You two look delicious."

"Now, let me get this straight," said Betty, "You are asking that we let you eat us?"

"Oh not raw! We would prepare you properly."

"In other words," said Leigh, "Cook us. How?"

"Anyway you like," answered the chief, "That is, if you agree to be cooked and eaten."

Leigh and Betty looked at each other. "Give us some time to think about it," said Leigh. Then she and Betty took a walk around the village.

"Well," said Betty, "We knew we might be called to make sacrifices.We'd be martyrs."

"We'd be on the menu," replied Leigh, "But I suppose it's what we were sent for. How would you like to be cooked.?"

"Well, the traditonal way would be a cookpot."

"Then that's it. We'll go back and give the chief our answer. "

The chief was pleasantly surprised. And yes, they did have a pot big enough for two. "When would you like to do it?" he asked.

"I guess now," said Leigh.

"Have you already bathed this morning?" asked the chief.

"Yes, in the river. So what do we do now?"

"Take off your clothes. It will take a bit to fill the pot."

Leigh and Betty had already adopted the local custom of going barefoot, so they took off their shorts and tops, unhooked their bras, and took off their panties.

"You two are beautiful naked," said the chief.

"Thank you." said Lee. "To tell the truth, both of us have always liked going naked."

"We'll be ready in a couple of minutes," said the chief.

Leigh and Betty looked at the big iron pot in the center of the village. Two tribesmen were filling it up halfway.

"That doesn't look like water," observed Leigh.

"Not completely," replied the chief, "We use a local wine made from tomatoes. It's very good. You'll be marinating in it."

"Marinating?"

"Of course. For about two hours. You'll enjoy it."

Soon the pot was filled. Leigh looked at Betty. Betty looked at Lee. They started toward the pot.

"Wait!" cried Leigh just before they stepped in. "We took a bath but we must have dirt on the bottoms of our feet. We've been barefoot all day."

Immediately the chief summoned two women who carefully washed Leigh and Betty's feet.

"Well," said Leigh after her cleaning, "Nothing ventured, nothing gained." She stepped into the red brew. It was fragrant and comfortable. Betty soon followed.

"Comfy?" asked the chief.

"Pretty much, " replied Leigh.

"The marinade is so soothing," said Betty.

"We do not mean to hurt you, just eat you. The mariade gives you time to change your mind."

"We won't," they said in chorus, "Chief, does your tribe have a taboo about women...uh...you know..doing it?"

"No, in fact it's a common practice."

"That's good because the pot is small enough that our nipples are touching and it's driving me insane!"

"I'll leave you two lovebirds alone then, until lighting time."

"What do you think, Bet?"

"I've always wanted to. But my upbringing and four years of Bible College convinced me it was sin."

"I think being cooked is an atonement," said Leigh, "let me lick your nipples."

Their lovemaking continued for quite some time. Once, Betty Felt something in her vagina. It was Leigh's toes."

"I never thought of that. It feels great! I just wish I could eat you."

"Don't worry dear, someone else will attend to that..Put your toes in my mouth."

Two hours passed quickly. Soon the chief came over and asked if the deal was still in. They said it was.

The chief ordered the fire lit so that it would heat at a slow, simmering pace. He was in no hurry. Neither were Betty and Leigh, lost in pent-up passion they had denied so long. But, all good things have to come to an end. Eventually, Betty and Leigh were not pink but red. It was nearly chow time.

The chief walked over to the pot, now filled with vegetables of all kinds. Leigh motioned him over.

"I have a proposition. Betty is nearly out of it, and I'm on my way. I'm tired of a pot mate who can't respond."

"And?"

"I'm almost done anyway. Take me to that straight palm tree out there, tie me to it, and build a circle of fire around me. That way you have the best of both worlds, stewed girl and roasted girl."

The chief smiled."It shall be done."

And it was done, just as Leigh had imagined it in childhood fantaies. She had induldged Betty hers: getting cooked. Now she was realizing her own: being burned at the stake. As the flames roasted her tender body to a golden brown, she rememberd their mission. She had let the Lord's will be done. Well done.