Wreck of the Ivory Horse
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Monica Stevenson sighed frustratedly as she paced the deck of her family’s posh yacht.To say that she was bored would have been the understatement of the century. The girl’s long hair flowed behind her like a red ribbon when her lap took her against the wind, and flush against her cream-colored face when she moved with it. Though even the uncomfortable sensation of her hair flowing into her eyes was something. The bright blue, one-piece swimsuit that she’d chosen for this trip matched her eyes perfectly, and contrasted her hair color in such a way as to command attention. She… was quite used to that. After all, beauty was made to be admired. That was what her mother always told her.
 
 
And lure in admiration she did. Bethany, her brunette, bourgeois friend in plain white bikini, hung over her shoulder like a bee hovered near a flower. The plain girl of course had a certain, diamond in the rough quality that qualified her to be Monica’s shadow at the very least, and as much as Monica hated to admit it, the girl was much more full figured than she. Her sizeable bust compared to Monica’s more moderate one was nearly double side by side. Monica naturally secretly hated this, and enjoyed tormenting the girl on occasion about being a touch more… plump, if only just. Bethany always seemed to take the teasing words in stride, which was both disappointing and amusing to the much richer thing.
 
 
“If you girls don’t sit still you’re going to rock the whole boat over.” came the voice of Monica’s mother. Nicole was a mature beauty who’d, through excellent genetics and a good skincare routine, maintained a brilliantly youthful, light caramel look, with only the odd streak of gray through her raven hair to betray her forty plus years on the planet. Unlike her daughters, Nicole had not been born into wealth. She’d scratched and clawed her way to the top of her cosmetic company, stepping on countless heads along the way, and her expression always wore a bit of weariness, that gave her a strangely mysterious air. Birthing two girls and a boy had been kinder to her proportions than it was for others, thanks in no small part to her nutritionist’s help. She had eye-popping wide hips that had berthed all of her children, and the enormous breasts to feed them when they were younger. There was no doubt that all of her children were fortunate to take after her side of the genepool, and likely had five or more decades of unnatural beauty ahead of them. Nicole had landed on an onyx two-piece that showed off her body to all the staff. It was one of her little pleasures. To be oggled like this.
 
 
This also included Rebecca, Nicole’s oldest daughter. Monica’s senior by two years, and just barely old enough to drink as of a month ago. Rebecca’s hair was somewhere between Nicole’s shady color, and their father’s fiery red, and much like her sister, she wore azure eyes. Though hers were a good deal more cheerful than Monica’s, typically. Rebecca had a certain… sunny outlook to her. A cheerful personality that was a rarity amongst inherited money. For the moment, she laid in her pink bikini near her mother, soaking in the sun and simply enjoying the warmth. This naturally infuriated Monica, who couldn’t stand that her sister just enjoyed life more than she did. Her tendency to just sit down and take in her surroundings had led to a slightly darker tan, which also filled the more pure redhead with jealousy.
 
 
“Maybe if we’d do something interesting I wouldn’t have to do laps around the boat…” Monica snapped at her mother. “Honestly, there’s nothing to do out here in the middle of nowhere.”
 
 
“Then maybe you can find something to do for yourself hmm?” Nicole’s tone was longsuffering, but stern in a way. “Maybe you can help the shiphands keeping the place up.”
 
Monica recoiled in disgust. “Are you kidding? I can’t believe my own mother would suggest menial labor for her precious daughter.” The girl tossed her head back and immediately made her way back to her cabin, with Bethany close in tow.
 
 
“I had a feeling you’d think that way.” Nicole responded with a chuckle, before going back to her lazing about.
 
 
—
 
 
Monica wasn’t sure how many hours The Ivory Horse had been away from port this time, but it easily felt as though she’d been without internet for days. Though Nicole certainly could have afforded the satellite connection required to stay connected wherever she was, the woman had… a thing… about getting away from society for a while, much to the youngest girl’s furious chagrin. She felt naked and vulnerable without the ability to tell all her simps just how unhappy she was, and seeing so many people worship the ground she walked on was a good deal more interesting than staring into endless blue waters all day.
 
 
What Monica… and indeed no-one on the boat could have known, was just how quickly everything was going to get much more interesting, very soon…
 
 
It started as a simple *thump* against the starboard side. A simple noise that was easily missable, and it was only because so many missed it, that the vessel slowly began to lose buoyancy. Had anyone said anything or… gone to investigate the sound, they would have spotted the long gash just above the water level of the ship’s height. What began as water level didn’t stay that way however, as little splashes entered in to that wound as time went on… making the boat heavier, and heavier… until finally the ship’s captain noticed a change in buoyancy.
 
 
Monica was awakened from a nap, the only way she could think to pass the time, by the sounds of the captain and Nicole screaming desperately. When the girl made her way down below to catch what the fuss was about, her heart instantly began to sink. Her confused and terrified questions of what had happened seemed to land on deaf ears, or more appropriately, ears that were more focused on other things.
 
 
Bethany was quick to join the others in a crude attempt at bailing, leaving her mistress’s side in a rare display of common sense, but by then it was simply too late. The Horse was going down, too quickly for anyone to make a difference with. All the captain could do now… was give his all to steer her in the direction of a tropical forest that seemed to show in the distance, as if some divine intervention, saving them all from the deep.
 
 
—
 
 
Monica moaned loudly as she pulled her face out of the sand. How long had she been out? Her entire body was as sore as she'd ever been, and while she struggled to get her bearings, she briefly worried that something had been broken. A quick stretch thankfully proved otherwise, and when the girl turned around, she was greeted by the hope-wrenching sight of the Ivory horse with its bow utterly shredded by whatever stealthy, sharp rock formation had caused the initial tear. There would be no repairing any of it, much less using the doomed vessel to limp back home. More frightening was the fact that the staff were all completely absent. Had they been killed in the wreck? Thrown off? Maybe they’d gone to go get help. Regardless of why, it seemed the girls had been left on their own.
 
 
She turned around to survey where she'd landed, and hopefully find her family and friend waiting for her. To her great relief, Bethany could be seen some distance away, clambering clumsily up one of the beach's many palm trees in search of fruit. The line of tropical trees behind said palms gave off a much more frightening air than the one Bethany was ascending however. Their shadows stretched over much of the entire beach, and they exuded an aura of bitter danger and the unknown.
 
 
Far surpassing all of that however was the massive, smoking mountain behind everything. The unmistakable volcano absolutely dominated the horizon, and looked as though it were in a perpetual state of pre-eruption. Its presence made the island that had saved their life feel more like a time bomb, and Monica felt her entire body grow heavy with panic.
 
 
What was more than that, however… How would she contact her simps now? What should she do? An angel as perfect and refined as she was wouldn't last fifteen minutes in the wilderness. Where were the others? They should be here to lighten her load as much as possible. At the very least, Beth seemed to be doing her part to feed her but… being generous the girl was an absolute dunce. She was already exerting so much energy looking for coconuts, when all signs already pointed to the fact that these were not fruit-bearing palms.
 
 
“Beth. Get down from there!” commanded Monica, very nearly startling the girl into a fall. “Where are the others?”
 
 
Beth started her way down, trembling with every foot until she finally stood back on sandy ground. No sooner had the girl opened her mouth however, than did Nicole's voice quickly drown out anything she might have had to say.
 
 
“N-now this is all a horrible misunderstanding” The panicked voice of her mother ripped through the air rather loudly, coming from the nearby forest. “My family and I had no intention to intruded and… and… D-do you know who I am?!”
 
 
“Mom?” Monica squinted in the woman's direction, before her eyes went wide in realization. Nicole was followed… by an entourage that for once didn't look happy to be with her. A second’s more staring showed that both Nicole and Rebecca were tailed by a rather unhappy looking crowd of what she could only assume were… natives?
 
 
The grass skirts that were worn by both the men and the women seemed straight out of a fantasy novel, and it wasn’t lost on anyone that the women were completely topless. Especially considering that they seemed to outnumber the men five to one. Each and every one of them held a pointed spear made of long branches and flint against Nicole and Becky’s backs. The looks of utter fear on both women’s faces might have been delicious to the vindictive Monica… if there wasn’t a very real threat of being treated the same way.
 
 
The girl found herself slowly sidling back towards the ruined boat… hoping that she hadn’t quite been seen yet by the disagreeable looking people that held her family at literal point. It wasn’t long until they’d surrounded Beth, who’d only just managed to find her way down, adding her to their chain of prisoners, and scaring the poor thing into a loud yelp. Then, to Monica’s horror, they progressed towards the wreck.
 
 
The girl did her damndest to disappear behind the ravaged vessel’s skeleton, but it was futile, she would quickly learn. The locals may have been primitive, but they weren’t stupid. Within a minute they’d split up to cover every inch of the wreck, and within 2, they had her rounded up with the others, leaving Monica staring cross eyed down one of the stony pikes.
 
 
“P-please! I’m not with them!” she lied, though she wasn’t quite sure why. In truth she had no reason to believe any of them could speak Eng…
 
 
“You tell lies!” The accusation interrupted and disproved that thought in a single second. “You all the same… Come to take our land from us.”
 
 
Monica wanted to disappear. She couldn’t deny that the island was gorgeous. If she’d been here under any other circumstances she likely would have eyed the place up for a personal getaway. Now wasn’t the time to confess her greed however. Now was the time to play up these folks for everything she was worth.
 
 
“What? N-no! You’ve got me all wrong… I-I… Stealing such a sacred place would be… horrible…”
 
 
The looks this earned her weren’t exactly trusting… though there was one among their number who seemed intrigued by her plea. A slightly older thing who slowly approached her, before running her fingers through Monica’s hair. To the girl’s great discomfort, she then lifted a large lock to her nose, and gave a long sniff.
 
 
“Mohai!” The woman’s tone was not bitter, as the other’s had been. Rather she seemed immensely… excited? That was good, right?
 
 
“M-mohai?” Monica parroted, as she looked around at the tribe. “Y-yep. That’s me! Good ol’... Mohai…” With that, she gave as broad a fake smile as she could manage. “Why don’t we just… you know… talk?”
 
 
The older woman was quick to bow down, as did the rest of the tribe soon after. Nicole, Rebecca, and Beth were soon given quick jabs to their rears to ensure they did the same.
 
 
“Brave Mohai! Thanks to you for visiting us, and bringing goodness!”
 
 
“Aww… W-well…” Monica felt something well up within her. This wasn’t all unlike her addicted followers behaved. It was an entire Culture of Beths… it seemed. All the fear that had been building up within her flowed out like an opened dam, and was replaced by a warm confidence. “I’m just glad you realized your mistake before it was too late. Otherwise I… Err… Th-the gods would have been quite angry…”
 
 
Just like that, the weapons pointed at the girl were quickly dropped, and the crowd began to mumble amongst themselves. Most seemed completely taken with the girl suddenly, as though someone had flipped a switch in their dispositions.
 
 
“M-mohai, what should we do with these other… less pure ones.” asked the apparent priestess.
 
 
“Them?” Monica stared into her mother’s eyes for a long moment, before recalling what she’d said earlier. “I-I already said they’re not with me… Just… take them with us, and we’ll decide what to do later.
 
 
Monica could see the hope drain from Nicole’s expression in an instant. Swallowing what little existed of her conscience however, the girl simple waved cheerfully at the woman. She’d spent her entire life in Nicole’s shadow. Now, they were with a group that really appreciated her as superior. These weren’t just… online losers, or a single sycophant. It was an entire populace that was willing to give her the adoration she deserved.
 
 
“You bitch!” Rebecca bitterly spat out, being rewarded with another poke to the ass.
 
 
“Quiet, nonbeliever!” The priestess seemed none too happy with the insult. She then turned to Monica. “Please Mohai. follow.”
 
 
“Yeah… You’d better be quiet while I’m still deciding what to do with you~” Monica chided.
 
 
The walk back into the forest was surprisingly quiet. Apparently most of the locals were too caught up in their reverence to say much, and her family were none too eager to get another spearing to the ass. All the same, every glance Monica gave their way was met with a caustic stare. Not that the girl minded really. After all. She was Mohai… whatever that meant.
 
 
Once under the shade of all the trees, everyone, including the natives, seemed to be relieved by the coolness given by them. Monica found herself quite taken with the natural, verdant beauty of it all. She wondered if, when she got back home… she might be able to invest in a resort here. The money she’d make would probably eclipse that of her mother’s more mundane investments. For the moment though, she had a role to play.
 
 
Deeper in the tropical jungle, the group finally made its way to what could only be described as a stone village. With numerous structures of hewn stone surrounding a single, moderately sized pyramid, atop which stood a rather ornate jade throne. Monica was quickly ushered up to said seat, while the others were made to watch, never once losing that angry expression that they all shared.
 
 
The locals however, seemed absolutely ecstatic, cheering as Monica took her spot at the center of their everything.
 
 
This was right. Monica thought to herself. This was the natural order. She was made to be worshiped, after all.
 
 
Though the throne was hard, and uncomfortable, Monica was quick to somehow glean even more pride than she already clung to. It was beautiful despite its harsh firmness, just… like… her…
 
 
There the girl remained, for hours, simply basking in her own brilliance, while her family and friend were corralled into a cage made of nothing less than human bone. The symbolism was stark, and cruel, and though Monica gave some… mildly passing thought to how to help them, she also found herself absolutely taken with how demeaning it must be for the lot of them. For Beth, it was… normal, but for her mother and sister? They must have been seething. Boiling the meat of their fear in the heat of their tempers. It was… delicious.
 
 
By the time the sun had begun to set, the darkness had already completely overtaken the entire village. Now, the only light beyond what miniscule moonlight was penetrating the canopy, was that of warming and cooking fires spread throughout the settlement. To the great relief of the… non-mohai captures, the only meat that turned over the fires for the moment, was boar, or some sort of local creature at the very least.
 
 
Naturally, Monica was the first to be offered a meal, spread on a stone platter. The mystery meat was combined with a healthy offering of fruit and… some native vegetable that Monica couldn’t quite place. The girl quickly bit in, without a moment’s hesitation, to savor the juicy, yet gamey flavor of the meat.
 
 
Only when it appeared that she was satisfied, did her server, the priestess from earlier, dare speak to her. “Proud Mohai.” she began. “We already know your plans for yourself… but we must ask. What are we to do with the others? Those who failed to be as pure as you…”
 
 
Monica paused for a moment. A small trickle of uncertainty flooded her mind. How was she to help the others while still remaining royalty here? If she hadn’t been so caught up in herself she would have devoted more time to all this, and she’d have a competent answer. Now she looked disingenuous and foolish. She had to say something decisive. Something fast. “U-uh… B-bring me the old cow first…” she choked out, meaning to insult her mother’s much more proud bosom. Something she’d always been envious of…
 
 
“Cow?” the curious way that the priestess parroted her word confused Monica for a moment. That was, until she departed back towards the prisoners, and brusquely proceeded to slice through the fabric of their swimsuits. With the exception of Bethany, who absently allowed just about anything to happen to her, this was to much hooting and protest of the women, the priestess next proceeded to heft each of the women’s breasts, as though she were examining cattle. Any attempt to pull away was met with a firm slap across the offended breasts, and to Monica’s surprise, it was only a short while before the local woman had the wealthy duo wrapped around her little finger. Pain was an excellent deterrent for someone who’d rarely had to deal with it within their lifetime, or at the very least hadn’t experienced such in a long time.
 
 
Monica watched as Nicole was selected from the crowd, with humored inquisitiveness. The priestess had clearly misunderstood her, yet somehow managed to follow her instructions all the same, and no amount of indignant braying or whining deterred her from bringing the outraged woman to her Mohai.
 
 
The girl was was absolutely on cloud nine as her mother was forced to kneel before her. With every second that passed, she found herself less and less caring of what exactly happened to her family and friends. The power she had in this moment. It was… intoxicating.
 
 
“Heh… you definitely found the old cow alright…” mused Monica as she leaned forward to grip Nicole’s breast with one hand. “You know… these tits are only good for one thing really.” she mused. “It’s a shame we can’t just… help her realize what her true purpose could have been.”
 
 
At this the priestess seemed more than a little confused. “But… Mohai.” she began in reverently corrective tone. “She… CAN be made to see purpose… for your nutrition.”
 
 
Monica froze, as did Nicole at that.
 
 
“Wh-what?” asked the businesswoman.
 
 
This only earned her another slap across the breasts from the priestess, as she gave a squeal of pain.
 
 
Monica was equally bewildered.“Wait… You’re joshing with me… “You can’t… actually… make her… a real cow?” Monica asked with a twinge of disbelief. “How?”
 
 
“Zutzut.” was the priestess’s only reply. She almost seemed confused that Monica wasn’t aware of all the little secrets of the island.
 
 
Before Monica could ask for clarification, the priestess called over to one of her peers, who quickly plucked a massive flower from a nearby vine. The flower almost seemed to glisten with an unnatural dew, while a droplet of unnaturally golden nectar then drizzled down one of its petals. Nicole wasn’t given much opportunity to resist as the priestess squeezed her cheeks harshly to keep her jaw open.The panic in Nicole’s eyes was more real than any emotion Monica had ever seen from her in years. The next thing both she and her daughter knew, the busty matriarch of the stevenson family was being forced to drink every ounce of the bloom’s liquid, and then left to cough and sputter, before glaring angrily at her daughter.
 
 
Monica responded with an equally sharp stare. If the girl had ever had a shoulder angel that would try to guilt her into feeling bad for what she was doing to her own mother, it had been beaten within an inch of its life by the devil on the other side long ago, and was now silent in fear of its life. “Don’t give me that~” Monica’s eyes continued to throw daggers, while her lips curled into a smile. “I think it’s time you started earning your keep again. Don’t you?” She bit her lip, trying and failing to hold that angry expression. Her mother… was… indeed gorgeous. Of course it was only natural that Monica’s genes were plucked from the finest stock but… she’d never really, truly considered just how perfect Nicole’s body was.. The woman wasn’t past her prime. Her prime had chased and wrestled middle age into submission. “You always said I didn’t appreciate what I had. Maybe… it’s about time you started practicing what you preached~ Started earning your keep.”
 
 
WIth that, Monica gave one of Nicole’s breasts a hearty squeeze. “Mhhh… you know, this just feels way too… right…” she pondered aloud. “You never really appreciated me for all that I was worth. It’s about time you got a reality check.”
 
 
Nicole could easily see in the girl’s eyes that this wasn’t just some… temporary power trip. It was something that had been building up for a long time. Where had she gone wrong? Letting her own flesh and blood fall so far into self-importance like this?
 
Monica bit her lip. Being able to touch another woman with such impunity, without her consent… There was definitely something to be said about being the big wahine. Only when she’d satisfied her perverse need to grope and pinch the woman… A desire that had apparently long been repressed and left to collect dust in her imagination…, did she finally lean back in her throne. “Very well… she’ll do for now. Just… send her off into the fields.” The words left her lips in such a dismissive and conceited tone that she very nearly offended herself, if she weren’t so conceited as to think nothing she could do would ever be wrong. “I suppose… if she’s going to produce, she can be fed a bit extra, can’t she?”
 
 
The girl didn’t know if she was being generous or cruel with her next words, and truthfully she didn’t care. “Make sure the others are well fed as well… I’ll find something to do with those… common animals sooner or later…”
 
 
—
 
 
While Beth and Rebecca had been left to shiver in their boney cage, and Nicole was forced to remain in a bamboo paddock lined with thorns to prevent her escape, Monica had been treated to a night surrounded by sycophants in a fire warmed hut. By the time the sun had risen, and what few rays would penetrate the jungle canopy had been cast, the three prisoners had only managed a few hours of shivering sleep. The sight of monica emerging from her comparative luxury instantly filled them with a venomous anger that… for the moment, they all chose to ignore, if only to avoid a spear to the rear.
 
 
Monica was ecstatic to be in her current position. Waking up to see that yesterday had been all too real filled her with a sort of glee she’d never felt before. After living so long in her mother’s shadow, she now had the opportunity to prove that she was worth just as much, if not more than, the old cow. Following a brief walk to the cage, from whence even Beth was beginning to eye her warily, she then made herself to the primitive paddock her mother had been restrained in.
 
 
To the girl’s great amusement, something had very clearly left Nicole’s eyes already. That sort of… confident authority that the woman always held herself with was completely gone. Instead, it had been replaced with a certain meek timidity. An animalistic capitulation to all those around her.
 
 
“Mom…” Monica called out to the woman, waiting several seconds before doing so again when she didn’t reply. This time in a much more stern voice. The kind of tone that the woman would have used if the situation was still reversed, and Nicole was still the one in power. “Mom!” Come here now!”
 
 
Nicole sheepishly approached the gate, shivering intensely, which only caused her heavy melons to jiggle all the more with every step. In stark contrast to her usual behavior, the woman remained utterly wordless, even as her daughter reached forward to callously grope her chest.
 
 
“Well… you seem to have learned your lesson pretty quickly.” Monica mused. “That crazy flower really did a number on you… looks like.”
 
 
Nicole moaned loudly as Monica gave much the same treatment to her as the day before. Her nipples were unmistakably hard, and to Monica’s humored intrigue… moist as well. What was more, whereas last night, such molestation would have earned bitter resistance, now it almost seemed as though Nicole… enjoyed herself. Her face very quickly turned a bright red, and she couldn’t help but bite her lip. Her entire body overall was… a good deal more sensitive.
 
 
“M-monicaaaaaa…” Nicole’s attempt to perhaps scold or appeal to her daughter’s nonexistent better nature seemed stalled. Slow even. What was more… she seemed to struggle to produce simple words. On closer inspection Monica could see that her mother’s eyes lacked a certain… fierce intelligence that they’d once had. Perhaps the herbal drug she’d taken yesterday did a bit more than induce lactation.
 
 
“I… can't believe this is real.” Monica's jaw hung low while she examined her mother. “They… really did turn you into a complete cow, didn’t they?” She let the thought marinate as she watched a dribble of milk trail down the woman’s breast. A single quick, albeit harsh, squeeze was more than enough to set the old girl lactating.
 
 
“I bet this stuff would sell gangbusters back home…” The girl felt a blackhearted smile grow across her face. “Genuine milf milk… and the best part is, they shut you up too~”
 
 
Nicole furrowed her brow. She knew full well she should be angry, but when she opened her mouth… her mind was utterly devoid of vocabulary. Instead, the only noise she could muster was a guttural grunt, which only seemed to amuse her daughter all the more.
 
 
“Open the gates~” Monica commanded, letting her excitement be easily heard. “I want to play with my new pet.”
 
 
Seconds later, two of her loyal followers had unlocked the paddock, and ushered the girl in. Nicole made no attempt to make for the brief open window. After all, where could she even go? Instead, she watched warily as Monica reapproached her, this time without a cage between them to inhibit her… ego-boosted audacity.
 
 
Nicole felt a wave of fear crash over her. Something had changed in her psyche. She hadn’t noticed it before all of this but… she was much more timid than she’d ever been. Monica had picked up on this right from the start. Her tone very suddenly jumped to one of impatient urgency, and Nicole’s drug induced cowardice was quite… susceptible to it.
 
 
Nicole dropped to her knees, her body moving of its own accord, without any input from her brain.
 
 
“I said sit… Not kneel…” Monica made sure to let a certain jump creep into her words.
 
 
Once again, Nicole dropped back, letting her legs splay forward as she landed on her ass. Her entire body shivered as she watched her daughter step with a conceited boldness. The type of boldness that only someone who could easily… hurt her might have. At that sight, much to her shame, she couldn’t help but spread her legs open wide in offering.
 
 
Monica planted herself right between those thick… berthing thighs without any hesitation. She licked her lips hungrily. One hand stroked up and down her mother’s legs while the other… dared to go a little deeper. A little more… central.
 
 
Nicole let out a tensing grunt. Every fiber of her being told her that this was not how things should be and yet…
 
 
“I didn’t think I would enjoy this as much as I am.” Monica flicked her mother’s love button, forcing a moan that was equal parts depression and… animalistic simplicity. Monica’s fingers felt beyond amazing to her. In a… bizarre way there was something calming about being dominated. Knowing the score was secure, even if it was humiliating.
 
 
Monica then let one hand explore Nicole’s stomach, and continue to lift until she was hefting one of those filling breasts. “Mhhh… After so long under your shadow mom… I’m finally getting my proper due from you.” she licked her lips again, and then pressed them around Nicole’s nipple.
 
 
Nicole gasped. This was a sensation she hadn't experienced for more than a decade. Given the circumstances, it wasn't exactly the same as last time either. Yet despite the disgust that societal expectations should have put on her, to some degree it felt… natural. Relieving, even. Her bust hadn't quite built up an uncomfortable amount of pressure, but it had been noticeable. The woman scolded herself for leaning into her daughter's suckling mouth, and made a mental note to hate the girl even more later, but for now, the way the fluid left her body… felt… good.
 
 
 “Mhhhh… I think this is a much more natural state for you…” Monica finally muttered as she pulled away. “Serving me. Low, with the animals.” She moved her hand to the recently emptied nipple, and gave it a flick, reveling in the squeaking noise her mother gave after. “I was born into my place, but as much as you liked to pretend otherwise… You were still lowborn.”
 
 
Nicole grunted in argument, though it wasn't long until she found herself recoiling away from Monica's smug, stern face. Had the girl always been this frightening. Had she always had such… petrifying presence? It didn't take a leap of logic to assume that damned nectar had done something to her mind as well as her body, but that didn't help her combat the frigid snap that Monica's every word sent down her spine. Never before had she felt this helpless. It was… thrilling.
 
 
So thrilling that when Monica moved to set to work on her other side, she couldn't help but shift into it all the same. Despite the terror, and despite the shame. Nicole told herald that it was all just too wrap up the experience, however both she and Monica knew better, deep, deep inside.
 
 
—
 
 
With every day that passed, Nicole fell deeper into this… need to please. The need to have her mistress justify another day of her existence. A consistent diet of greens and bizzare fatty fruit harvested from the forest's bounty, coupled with steady doses of the nectar had tripled her production, and fried her mind all the more, respectively. By the third evening, she'd ceased any planning to escape, and by the fifth, the woman could barely even recall her life before she'd become her daughter's pet.
 
 
In the relatively short time that had passed, Monica had become increasingly calloused as time went on as well. She'd stopped referring to Nicole as mom rather quickly, instead calling the woman nothing more than “the old cow” every time she passed by. As her empathy decayed, so too did her relationship with Beverly. Rebecca had already gotten in the habit of shooting daggers at her sister every time she passed by, but Beverly had dared to hope that her constant catering to Monica over the years would earn her… some position in the Mohai's court but thus far all Monica had afforded her was food and the occasional bath. The bare minimum.
 
 
Despite her place of grandeur, in time Monica herself had given up on clothing, often baring all to both her subjects, and her property. After all, she'd spent much of her recent life profiting on people's blind admiration of her. Those who served her well deserved… some reward after all. Unlike Nicole and the others, who's nudity was by necessity, Monica flaunted her body purely voluntarily, spending a fair amount of the day, legs teasingly crossed and chest proudly puffed out atop her throne. The pyramid, she determined, was perfectly centered to keep her glorious form displayed for as many people as possible in the village.
 
 
Though Monica initially kept Nicole contained in the small paddock, it wasn't long before the girl began to flaunt her mother's obedience as well. The fact that the woman had been so quickly broken in to offer her sumptuous body for easy, constant access was too tempting not to make use of. Though Monica hadn't really considered herself a taboo breaker, she'd quickly corrupted into thinking “When outside Rome, there was no need to behave like a Roman.” Here, so far away from society's norms and laws, she needn't hold herself to those things any longer. She was free to experiment. To test every little carnal thought that entered her horrible mind.
 
 
Keeping the newly sweet, newly “lobotomized” Nicole was only one such adventure. Once the entire experience became somewhat normalized to her, Monica began to imagine just what she could do with her remaining dolls. No amount of sexual freedom could prepare her for what was to follow, however.
 
 
—
 
 
“Mohai!” The priestess's voice was unusually urgent as she climbed the pyramid. Monica pulled her brainwashed mother's bosom against her side as she listened.
 
 
“The time has come!”
 
 
Monica blinked several times, as a certain uncertain fear welled up inside her. Should she know what “time” this was? What if she were discovered as a fraud?
 
 
She shook her head. That couldn't be it. She was real. A genuine goddess. To think otherwise was nothing more than impostor syndrome.
 
 
“And… what time is that?” she dared to ask bluntly.
 
 
“The first god demands a sacrifice…” The priestess replied grimly. “And we must ask which of your lessers will fill the jungle's belly…”
 
 
“Fill… the jungle's…” Monica's brow furrowed, and for the briefest of moments she gave her mother a ponderous glance. But… she couldn't give away her favorite pet, could she?
 
 
Next, the girl's eyes trailed to the bone cage, where her sister and “friend” still remained incarcerated. Cynthia had never done her any favors. Then again, blood was thicker than water. Beverly had always been happy to serve before. What was one last job for her?
 
 
With that determination, Monica sauntered her way back to the cage.
 
 
“Oh Beverly~”
 
 
Still silent, the brunette only flinched at the mention of her name. She didn't like the determined, frightfully cheerful way the “queen” addressed her, particularly after watching Nicole degrade so quickly, as well as the delight with which the tyrant observed that prices.
 
 
“I have a little… something I'd like you to do.”
 
 
Beverly felt a knot tighten in her stomach. If Monica could see the panic in her eyes, she neither cared about nor acknowledged it. The only thing that mattered was what what she could be used for.
 
 
Within seconds, a small army of tribesman had rushed in to grip the girl by her shoulders and force her outside for their queen to inspect. Once Monica had given her approval, the small squad was on its way, with Beverly flanked on either side by rather stern spears that spoke volumes without a single word.
 
 
The unnaturally thick undergrowth brushed and scraped against the poor girl's bare skin with every step, to the point that she briefly thought that whatever awaited her at the end of their little walk was better than being subjected to nature's little war of attrition on her. All the while, she found herself begrudgingly admiring Monica from behind.
 
 
Despite everything that had happened, Beverly still couldn't help but admit… the girl was beautiful, and charismatic in her own, contemptably narcissistic way. The was a certain something that radiated from the girl. Maybe Monica was right. Maybe Beverly was nothing more than a born follower. A lesser.
 
 
The girl was suddenly ripped from her self-depracating thoughts, as the sound of wet slapping filled the air ahead of her. Both she and Monica hadn't known in the slightest what awaited them at the start of the whole trip, and even the overconfident Mohai couldn't help but step backwards in fear of what stood before them.
 
 
The mass of green tendrils and leafy mouths was like something out of a mid twentieth century horror movie. The thick trunk from which the rest of the monstrous plant grew was a sort of… green bark, from which hostile thorns sprouted this way and that. This chaotic lack of alignment already gave it a malicious air, but the writhing, slimy vines that emerged further up made this aura a hundred times worse. Above it all three massive maws, of which a distinct pitcher plant shapes almost gave off the same personality of a fat bastard with a drooping chin, snapped angrily at the travellers. Impatient like a rabid dog. In fact, sickening amounts of enzyme frothed from the orifices, almost as if it were frothing at the mouth… or salivating.
 
 
“Th-this is what you meant by feeding the forest?” asked Monica in shocked tone.
 
 
“Yes, my mohai.” began the priestess. “A lesser god, to which we must give a lesser mohai…”
 
 
Monica didn't seem to catch the woman's words. She was far too swept up in watching the alien thing move. “Y-yeah yeah… Just… whatever you're going to do… j-just do it already!” she commanded.
 
 
For the first time since their ill fated voyage had started, Beverly finally made a noise. She wanted to scream. To call for help. She wanted to beg Monica to come back to reason. Instead, all she managed was a pathetic squeak of panic as two of the tribesmen gripped her just underneath her shoulders. They then began callously to drag her kicking form closer and closer to the monster, and just like that, the girl was silent again.
 
 
It was clear to Monica that sheer terror had overtaken her “friend”. Beverly had never been terribly bright or conversational. She had a tendency to freeze in situations that made her uneasy, and this was about as unnerving a fate as one could da face. How long would the poor girl survive inside that thing? Would it chew? Would she feel its digestive juices assault her flesh?
 
 
Briefly, it occurred to Monica just how cruel she was being in all this. Condemning her most loyal simp to a fate she likely never could have imagined. However, an even stronger emotion overtook her as she slowly internalized just how horrified the girl was.
 
 
Pure. Sadistic. Glee.
 
 
It was a trip, having this much power over others. Having the strength to simply… snuff someone's life out like this. Sure, she'd ruined her mother, probably for the rest of her life but this? This was something else entirely.
 
 
The guilt Monica knew she should have felt only flavored her pleasure all the more. She watched eagerly as the men carried Beverly as far as they dared, only to toss her onto her back and run in fear. Monica gawked at the girl's nubile body as it squirmed to find purchase in the surrounding mud. The way she struggled was… exhilarating.
 
 
In the end, Beverly had no hope of pulling way in time. The beast's numerous slopping tentacles were quick to find their way around both her ankles and wrists, and even quicker to hoist her into the air like a bag of groceries. The girl only stared, pleadingly in Monica's direction, as a fifth tendril snaked its way up from beneath her to coil around her young frame. Up… then down… then…inside her. If Beverly might have thought to speak at any point in all this, now it was far too late. She could only gag, wide-eyed as the monster violated her lips.
 
 
Monica, in turn, bit down on one of her own as she observed the shape of that tendril worm its way through Beverly's belly, distending and tormenting it from the inside. How this monster from the little shop of horrors could see its prey, she had no idea. Perhaps it was attracted to body heat. In that case it wouldn't get much warmer than actually inside the body. Regardless, it wasn't long until Monica completely abandoned her decency once more to reach down and… relieve the nagging want between her legs. Soon enough that perverted vine had pushed its way all through Beverly to emerge out the other end.
 
 
Beverly's uncomfortable twitching through the process instantly stopped. She froze there, too exhausted or… too overwhelmed to resist any longer. Much to Monica's depraved pleasure, that same vine immediately began to look for a way back in, eventually probing and… penetrating, the girl's most delicate place. The tendrils around her arms and legs receded shortly after, leaving her body to dangle limply, held up only by the coil inside her.
 
 
Monica breathed heavily. She could tell the show was almost near its climax… and if she wanted her own to be the best it possibly could, she'd better speed things up.
 
 
In quick enough time, Beverly was lifted higher and higher, until her hanging form dangled helplessly over the plant's largest maw. The moment Beverly was slid off of the vine with a wet *schhhhhlick* noise, Monica proceeded to part her lower lips with two fingers at the same time… The self-important queen's eyes were absolutely glued to the scene, as the weakened girl struggled pathetically in the pelican-like mouth. It's green “cheeks” bore the imprint of Beverly's hands as she futilely pushed against them, and once it had clamped down, hiding even the girl's face from view any longer, her gorgeously hourglassed form pushed up next.
 
 
Monica wasn't certain, but she could almost hear Beverly crying out again for help, or perhaps she was simply squeaking and sobbing wordlessly from inside. Either way, Monica bore the noises no mind. Instead she was caught up in the visuals of it all. First, the sight of Beverly's shape trapped and writhing within the plant's mouth, then the spectacle of that same form sliding much more stiffly down its soft, yet durable throat. There was just enough movement to let everyone present know the poor thing was still alive, but the peristaltic motions of this much narrower passageway restricted her to the tiniest of twitches and little else. Finally, Monica could see Beverly slip and fall into a much more open chamber, where she seemed to disappear.
 
 
There were vague sloshing noises, but by now Monica was much more interested in her… self-gratification. She rapidly, and even violently masterbated to the thought that Beverly was slowly fading away inside, and following several dozen intense thrusts within herself, she cried out unapologetically to the greatest orgasm she'd had in a long, long time.
 
 
“Mohai, should we… pray for the other?” asked the priestess, only when she was sure Monica was finished.
 
 
Monica quickly snapped around to face the woman, seemingly offended that she seemed to be affording that “other woman" a measure of empathy. She hadn't been this delicate with what she did to Nicole, and Monica wasn't about to suffer any competition.
 
 
“Why should we? She served her purpose.” was her only reply, before she waved away in the direction of the village. “Take me back now…”
 
 
—
 
 
By and large, the trek back was quiet and uneventful… not that many events would surpass what just happened. Monica eventually found herself in a sort of… post-high slump as she walked. For a time, she'd kept the train going imagining that poor Beverly was still writhing and squirming inside that thing, but she'd eventually jumped the gun in time. Unable to resist the thought of that final moment for the girl.
 
 
That moment… That second of bliss was another climax for Monica, but once it had passed, it was hard to return to it again. In a way it reinforced the idea that it was all over now. Disappointed, all she could do now was return “home” while further ignoring the anemic angel on her shoulder that tried to scold her.
 
 
By the time they'd arrived, Monica was beyond tired. The hut she'd been living in, and the harem she'd gathered together inside looked like her own little patch of heaven. Beverly was the old model. She now had a cadre of more interesting, more exotic locals to keep her company. In fact…
 
 
Throughout the night, Monica couldn't help but dream about what she'd do to that last little vestige of her old life. Her sister always had a certain… holier-than-thou air about her, but things had changed now. Now, Monica was quite literally the holy one… Rebecca was merely a lucky piece of meat that had been fortunate enough to be discovered with her.
 
 
That thought… That old insult for someone only worth their body… It was perfect.
 
 
—
 
 
The sun rose the next day with the same lack of fanfare as ever. Barely able to peek through the leafy ceiling of the jungle, what rays did pierce the thickness were all the more eye catching. It was as if nature was trying to call attention to Monica's verdant palace. A perfect day for a feast.
 
 
Monica pranced over to the macabre cage shortly after awakening. It was… a good deal more spacious than it had been on that first day, with Nicole now mindlessly at her side and Beverly reduced to fertilizer.
 
 
Inside, Rebecca did her damndest to look away as she lied flat on the ground, but in the end the way her body stiffened up told Monica that she was not only aware of her presence, but in fear of it as well. Monica was content to bask in this sort of… perverse respect for several minutes as she watched her sister like a bored animal in a zoo. It was humorous in a way, but… Monica had plans. This couldn't last forever.
 
 
“Are you just going to ignore me all day sis?” Monica threw a slight pout into her tone.
 
 
“I'm trying to, but you're gonna make this hard, aren't you?”
 
 
“Oh I think it’ll be pretty easy…” Monica slowly pranced around the cage, reveling in every twitching motion her sister made to avoid looking at her. To avoid showing fear… “For me at least.” Monica smirked, and signaled for Nicole to come to her side.
 
 
Nicole broke her refusal to look for the first time, as her mother wobbled forward on all fours to greet Monica in an almost catlike manner, rubbing her soft body and engorged breasts against the girl.”I-I can’t believe you did that to her… She’s your own mother! Y-you’re insane!” The way her voice finally cracked told her younger sister that she really had gotten to her, despite her little show of feigned resistance. “And… what the hell happened to Beverly? I haven’t seen her since…”
 
 
Rebecca didn’t even complete that thought. The curled smile her sister gave in response told her that she really didn’t want to know. That wasn’t enough to keep her imagination from running wild however, nor was it able to stem the idea that she was next. For the moment, Monica was just standing there, alone save for her “pet” at her side. That couldn’t last long though. Her little sister wore a certain look now that she was becoming… all too familiar with by this point. Suddenly she found herself less concerned with arguing and more concerned with appealing to Monica’s better nature… if the girl even had one.
 
 
“M-monica…” Her voice trembled as she spoke. “Y-you wouldn’t… hurt me would you? W-we’re sisters…”
 
 
Monica reached down to squeeze her mother’s breast, then took the trickle of milk that resulted to her mouth to taste it. “You want to know something I’ve found about family?”
 
 
Rebecca shook her head.
 
 
“They’re quite frankly… delicious.” continued the queen. “In one way, or another.”
 
 
With that, she quickly snapped her fingers, summoning all of the nearby tribesmen to gather around the cage, not even bothering to look at them as they circled nearby. Instead, her gaze was locked entirely on Rebecca. Savoring the little emotions of realization, dread, and then panic, in that order.
 
 
“Let's get her warmed up. She's been out here in the buff she'd really appreciate it, I'm sure.” She then stared off in the village's southern direction. “To the rock.” she insisted. “But first… let's clean her up if course~”
 
 
Unlike Beverly before her, Rebecca was dragged out from the cage kicking and screaming like a wild boar. In the end it took three men to restrain her. One holding her by her ankles, another by her shoulders, and yet another at her waist, where her arms were also forcefully pinned to her side.
 
 
Once the only recourse the girl had left to her was pathetically pleading, her captors were quick to carry her over to a crystal clear creek, where they immediately proceeded to dunk her into the relatively placid waters.
 
 
Rebecca could only gasp desperately for air each time they raised her back up, not even given enough time to form a sentence before they dipped her downwards once again. At any other time, the slight movement of the water against her skin would have felt… pleasant. Calming even. Now however, being treated by nothing other than an object by these people, it was solely terrifying.
 
 
After what seemed like half an hour of this waterboarding, Rebecca was beyond spent, lacking the energy to resist at all as they then carted her over to a huge, flat stone at the settlement's edge. No doubt the “rock” that Monica had mentioned.
 
 
With all the ceremony of throwing a new cushion onto a couch, Rebecca was tossed face-up atop the hard surface. Before she could think or even find the energy to do much as move unfortunately, her jailers were quick to pounce atop her, spreading her arms and legs wide, whilst sliding her head just over the slate's edge.
 
 
“Wh-what is this? What are you do-op?” Rebecca was silenced mid-question, as one of the men crammed some sort of hard-shelled fruit between her lips. Tears began to fall down her cheeks as the realization washe over her. For Nicole, the word “delicious” from Monica had been more or less metaphorical. Rebecca had dared to hope that Monica would only go that far for her as well, but there was no such luck. The girl had utterly lost her mind, as well as her humanity. There was no appealing to her better side. Whatever had been their had been completely eroded by now…
 
 
As though thinking about the devil was enough to summon her, Monica's impish face quickly covered Rebecca's view. “You know… the locals told me about this little tradition shortly after we arrived. Her voice carried a contemptuous weight to it, and the way she licked her lips brought to mind the habits of a mad woman. “Between mom's essence in her milk… and your flesh in my belly, I'll be the truest, most pure Mohai they've had in generations.” She licked her lips once again. “I'll secure my place in their pantheon for decades to come!”
 
 
Rebecca wanted to spit in her sister's face, but the gag prevented her. While Monica spoke, she could feel the men binding her wrists and ankles, somehow anchoring them to four large rocks at opposite ends of the huge one she was resting on. She found herself breathing heavily. Her eyes dilated and her heart pounded. Whatever happened to Beverly… this had to have been what she felt…
 
 
“It looks like we're just about ready…” Monica glanced about, apparently getting gestures of approval from the tribe. “By now, sweet sister~”
 
 
Suddenly, Rebecca heard a slight scratching noise to her side, followed by a loud *Woosh!* before she could feel heat surrounding her. Whatever tinder and fuel they'd used, they deliberately avoided placing it near her head. How thoughtful… that they were concerned about her appearance even as they were killing her…
 
 
It didn't take long for the slate underneath her to heat up, and within minutes she was bopping and wiggling up and down, desperate to get her vulnerable body away from the scalding surface as often as she could. The fact that she had an entire audience of locals gathered around to watch her struggle only made the pain so much worse. They were excited over her discomfort. Reveling in it even. Monica most of all. Anyone could see the thoughts she was having were painted on her face.
 
 
With every second that passed, Rebecca could feel her own flesh sizzling over the stone like nothing more than the raw slab of meat that her insane sister saw her as. All she could do was wince and groan in pain, whilst being made a spectacle for everyone else present. Even her own, practically lobotomized mother seemed to watch her squirm with some sort of perverse curiosity. Regardless of whether or not she understood it, she found the situation fascinating. Why was this silly girl laying on such a hot rock? Why wasn’t she saying anything? The answer to such questions were beyond her feeble mind.
 
 
In time, following much muffled screaming, the village began to fill with the unique scent of roasted rich girl. Rebbecca’s entire backside had been scalded a deep red, with spots of char visible on the harshest pressure points. She felt like a ham, pressed against a searing metal pan for what seemed like hours, and judging from the expression on her face she'd already lost all hope.
 
 
When the men finally cut Rebecca's ropes to flip her over, all she could manage was a slight grunt followed by a weakened cry of pain as her tits next pressed into the scalding stone. She was forced to endure the sensations anew, after her ass had finally become desensitized to the pain.
 
 
Every passing moment seemed to drag on forever for the girl. She scarcely ever endured a slap in the face, in her pampered life. Much less the pain of being cooked alive in the most primitive way imaginable. How could any human do this to anyone else? Much less their own family?
 
 
In truth, the how didn't matter. Rebecca's minutes were numbered regardless, and there was no escaping that fact. Soon enough she gave the last of her twitches, and went utterly still to a loud cheer from everyone present…
 
 
—
 
 
Of course, Monica was granted the seat of honor for the feast that followed. Her centered seat was positioned directly in front of the evening's pig, and to much ceremony, she was first served her sister's “doorway to life” as the locals put it. To the girl's surprise, the harshly scorched piece of meat was beyond delectable. It's savory flavor exploded onto her tongue like nothing her personal chef back home could have even dreamed of making.
 
 
 
 
Through it all, she was certain to keep Nicole nearby, now and again feeding the animal bits of her own daughter. Not that she was mentally present enough to understand what she was doing. Monica particularly enjoyed having those massive stress balls of tits available to molest any time her libido spiked, which was often. Even by halfway through the feast, the mature woman's breasts were covered in sore red spots, the shape of Monica's hands. She endured it with only a few grunts however, already well trained by this point.
 
 
To some degree, she found herself jealously eyeing every slice that came off of her sister to feed the rest of the tribe. It was like watching her birthday cake disappear over time. Shouldn't it all be about her?
 
 
Regardless, after sampling as many portions as she could get away with, and finding particular delight in Rebecca's ribs which were so perfectly marinated in breast fat, Monica had eaten her fill soon enough. Certainly more than any of the plebians at the table. In the end, seeing her sister reduced to bones was a grisly pleasure that only someone of her… lack of morals could enjoy. She was the last survivor of the wreck of The Ivory Horse, aside from Nicole of course, but the brainless cow didn't matter. She'd won.
 
 
—
 
 
With the festivities over, all that was left of Rebecca was cleaned up and discarded. Nicole returned to her pasture, and Monica to her “palatial” hut. The Mohai wasn't allowed much sleep that night, as her harem was particularly… honored to be in her presence, as they put it. When what little of the sun was able to peek through the trees did so, she was still utterly exhausted to the point of confusion when the priestess approached her.
 
 
 
 
“Come Mohai!” insisted the woman, as she lifted Monica by the wrists. “There is still much to do before the final ceremony.”
 
 
“Hmmmm… Wha?” Monica had barely even processed those words before she was dragged out to the village center once again. To her bewildered surprise, before her stood a massive pile of local fruit, all picked at the peak of freshness. At either side were several stone bowls full of Nicole's milk as well. Everyone had been busy little villagers, it seemed.
 
 
“Eat, please Mohai.” insisted the priestess, who brought a banana or… whatever the local equivalent was, to Monica's mouth.
 
 
“But…” Monica blinked away the sleep, then rubbed her eyes. “I'm still pretty full from yesterday. There was just so much…”
 
 
“That is what the mother's milk is for.” answered the priestess, as though the explanation was sufficient. “Filled with onae-onae fruit juice.”
 
 
Monica squinted in bewilderment, though her curiosity quickly got the best of her, and before she knew what she was doing, she'd lifted one of the bowls to her lips to taste its contents.
 
 
It was… delicious. Unusually so. Not unlike a berry smoothie from back home, minus the cold temperature of course. The milk was still fresh from its warm source. There was no need to refrigerate or thicken it.
 
 
Just like that, the girl then felt her stomach begin to growl, almost as though she'd been starved for days. Unable to help herself, she next proceeded to dig in to the offered fruit with an unladylike gusto. The sweet tang of the first, something like a purple, soft-spiked apple hit her tongue with an explosion of flavor that felt positively sinful, not that she particularly minded a bit of sin. “Indulgent” had become her middle name in all this. Was she the first westerner to ever taste these exotic treasures of produce? If so, it was beyond appropriate. The world’s treasures were hers to discover after all.
 
 
Before she’d even realized it, Monica had bored through the mountain of food in no time flat, and stains of brightly colored juices streaked down her chin and chest like a sort of, abstract tattoo. Clearly this was all an offering from the tribe to acknowledge her deific nature, especially now that she was the last of her kin with a mind to speak of, and with. It would be foolish of her not to accept. What was more, despite the sheer quantity of fruit she’d consumed, she found herself still hungry. Still craving the island’s countless pleasures. In fact, it wasn’t long before she’d completely forgotten just how full to bursting she’d been just half a day before.
 
 
“M-more…” she demanded, quietly at first. “More!” The second command filled the air with a good deal more dominance in her tone. “I’m still… so hungry!”
 
 
Despite what was left of her ability to empathize telling her that they should have been put off by her selfish impatience, Monica found that the villagers were actually quite happy to fill her command, in the span of a few short hours, they’d already collected another smorgasbord for her to revel in. In fact, only when her belly had bulged a bit to the massive amount of sugary sweetness she’d eaten, did her appetite abate, and likewise did the foraging slow.
 
 
“Ohhh gawd.” The girl rubbed her stomach while it was still doing its job, and slowly stood up. “How could you guys even find that much food?”
 
 
“Thanks to the lesser mohai's sacrifice, the jungle is pleased.” came the priestess's explanation. Monica couldn't help but notice that the little woman was staring at her body, rather than looking her in the eye.
 
 
“R-right. That's… definitely what I was going for.”
Monica rubbed her shoulder awkwardly. For the tiniest of moments, she actually felt… uneasy. In the end however, she forced that feeling away. Of course the priestess couldn't help but admire her. She was the most beautiful person on the island, especially now that all the competition was gone. Why shouldn't everyone get an eyeful of her gorgeousness at every possible opportunity?
 
 
With that, the girl retired to her hut once again to rest. Her mother's recently emptied udders still managed to have the perfect, soft fluff of a pillow of sorts for her to sleep on, and it wasn't long before she was blissfully slipping into the next day.
 
 
—
 
 
She awoke to the sound of some exotic bird tweeting and screeching for several seconds before going suspiciously silent, and it took several seconds for her to realize that Nicole was gone, and she'd been silently moved to some leather cot. Initially, she found herself more than a little upset, and if she hadn't been quite so groggy, she would have stormed outside to give the tribe a piece of her mind. In the end however, her lazy nature got the best of her, and she once again drifted off into sleep, until the scent of freshly roasted poultry stirred her back to consciousness.
 
 
Full of curiosity, Monica finally emerged from the hut, led by her nose until she was greeted by the sight of an enormous, roasted bird, steaming on a table before her. She licked her lips softly, and without even asking, positioned herself before the small feast. It was no Rebecca, but it most certainly was… delicious smelling.
 
 
Much like the day before, the meal began with a long sip of Nicole's milk, and much like that day, she found herself absolutely unable to resist a single bite afterwards. The fact that no one else around her was partaking wasn't lost on Monica. However she couldn't find it in herself to care. All she knew, was that she wanted more. Once the bird was gone, the tribe followed up with a second course of roasted vegetables, lightly seasoned with sea salt that was absolutely to die for. Finally, to top it all off, she was afforded some sort of fried dough, filled with fruity bits that were unlike any dessert she'd ever had.
 
 
This? This was the life. Being waited on hand and foot like this. It was what she deserved. Soon enough the food coma set in, and Monica found herself passing out at the table. With any justice in the world, tomorrow would be another feast…
 
 
—
 
 
When tomorrow did arrive, Monica actually managed to awaken on her own. Without the smell of a fresh meal to greet her, she disappointedly rolled off of her mother to stretch before heading out. For the first time since all of this had begun, and quite possibly for the first time in her life, she felt her belly jiggle slightly as she did so. Alarmed, she looked down to see the slightest beginning of a muffin top show just above her hips.
 
 
The girl let out a slight squeak of panic on realization, and as she reached down to feel the offending new weight she noticed something new. It was as though her arms were somehow putting more pressure on her chest as she reached. Had her breasts grown somehow? Slowly, both of her hands traveled around her thighs to explore her own backside next. It… certainly had a good deal more give now. Just how much weight had she put on in all this?
 
 
This had to stop. She needed to put her foot down, and so, with a deeply convicted purpose, she stormed outside to have a word with the priestess…
 
 
…
 
 
Only to see a table full of sweets like yesterday just… calling her name. One more meal couldn't hurt. Could it?
 
 
Day in and day out, for the better part of a week, Monica was treated to these exquisite spreads of food. With every passing sunset she grew just a bit larger. Filling out just a touch more every time she sat at the table. Fortunately for her, all the… attention she received at night kept her in some form of shape, but the added weight was not lost to the aether. In time, her breasts had expanded to rival those even of her mindless mother. She had become as close to a sort of… mother goddess as she ever could have imagined.
 
 
—
 
 
Monica awoke once again. Her circadian rhythm had grown quite accustomed to the timeline of waking to dinner, and then indulging in hours of raw, primal sex, before falling asleep on Nicole’s perpetually available body to prepare for the next day. Today however, there was no scent of food to greet her. No freshly roasted animal to steam on the table as she exited her hut.
 
 
Instead, the faces of at least half the village were there to greet her. As was Nicole’s. The old cow had once again been snuck out from under her, and more than a fair few of the locals were pampering her with attention. Attention that Monica was quick to grow jealous over, as her brow furrowed and her lips curled inwards.
 
 
“Wh-what is this?” she asked, her voice sharp as she watched Nicole moan loudly. The woman was on the receiving end of a steady massage to the nethers. “You guys haven’t forgotten about who truly matters the most here… have you?” Deep in the back of the girl’s mind, a gnawing fear began to creep in. Had they replaced her? Surely not. She just needed to remind them… of her glory. That was all.
 
 
Before she opened her mouth to speak again however, the priestess was the first to steal the crowd’s attention. “The time has come Mohai! People of this village, the gods are ready for the most beautiful, perfect mohai of all to give herself to them of her soul.” With that, she reached up to squeeze Monica’s recently engorged breasts, pulling a gasp of shock from the girl.
 
“Wh-what do you think you’re doieeEEK!” Before she could finish that question, the priestess forcibly spun her around, and pushed her forward until she was bending over.
 
“She has given herself to the ideal form after all this time, and now…” The woman then pinched a large portion of Monica’s ass out to show. “Now we may proceed with the final ceremony!”
 
 
“I-I don’t like where this is going…” Monica mumbled to herself, before trying her best to speak up. “L-look. I think there’s been a-a… a huge misunderstanding. I never meant to…”
 
Just like Beverly before her, Monica was silenced then and there as a large, fleshy yet hard fruit was harshly jammed between her lips, and just like Beverly, the thing was so painfully huge that she couldn't even open her mouth any further to drop it. Her eyes grew so wide she was afraid they would simply fall out of her head. What was happening? She wasn’t ready!
 
 
It was only after her wrists were bound, and she was dragged off by them to the village center, that Monica noticed the stone pire that had been freshly placed there. Countless, unknowable runes lined its height, and a heaping pile of wood had been generously tossed around it, as well as above it, on a disc that precariously balanced atop the pillar. Was that… for her?
 
 
To the barely constrained excitement of the waiting villagers, Monica was led to the pire like a pig to its slaughter, her newfound weight jiggling with every step she was forced to take. Only now, did everything make sense to her. She wasn't some deity to these people. She was a sacrifice to be fattened up and given to their gods. That was what Mohai meant. The others were of lesser quality in some way, giving her some value as the lead sacrifice, but in the end she was reserved for the same use…
 
 
Hell, even her now brainless mother seemed to be higher in value than her. At least she would be kept around indefinitely for her milk. For Monica, her only use now was to… burn?
 
 
In just a few minutes, Monica knew exactly what the others felt like when she sent them to their doom. Suddenly she felt as though she needed a conscience. Hoping for some divine intervention to save her if she could just be apologetic enough. She found herself repeating the word “sorry” in her mind over and over again…
 
 
Of course, such a rescue would not be coming. Monica could only mewl helplessly as the priestess began a long speech in the native tongue, while men slowly surrounded the pire with torches in hand. Monica's naked form, once such a point of pride for her in her beauty, suddenly felt shamed and humiliated as she would have if she was seen like this back home. It couldn't end like this. Not for her… Could it?
 
 
The girl's heart stopped when the priestess finally went quiet, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the men throw his torch into the wood. Everything seemed to slow down in that moment, and she felt as though she could have counted the nanoseconds that it spun in the air. In that moment, she knew a truer fear than she ever had as a spoiled California girl. Why did she let herself play these people's game? Why did she…
 
 
WHOOOOSH!
 
 
The fire then filled the air around her in an instant, and Monica immediately began to feel its stinging hug.
 
 
“Mgghh! Mnnnhh! Mppph!” No one present could hear or understand her muffled pleas through the flame's roar, not that they cared terribly. Monica however, could almost swear that through it all… she could see her mother, smirking callousedly…
 
 
—
 
 
In the end, Monica’s lightly charred body was offered in part to the gods, in particular her blessed womb, which had taken all the best traits of the others she’d partaken of. Of what remained, the village was blessed to enjoy the perfectly marbled sampling of her ribs, perfectly seasoned with the fat from her bust. The girl’s widened backside also made for a delectable font of meat… after the jungle had been given its own share, of course. True to her title, Monica had been the most perfect sacrifice the tribe had seen in generations. Perhaps, the old cow that birthed her could be bred to produce more…