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Introduction to Gilligan Mashukah: A sexy Gilliganís Island parody.

This is my first story posting to the alt.sex.stories newsgroup. I
have been lurking for some time, but have not had any stories which I
was willing to commit to this format. Posted requests for Gilliganís
Island stories has inspired this.

The story is not yet complete. Most of the rest of the story is pretty
much in my head, but my time to get it all written down is pretty
limited. So, I thought Iíd go ahead and post what I had and see if
there is any interest. If the interest is sufficient, that may inspire
me to complete it and post the rest.

It is posted in three parts, the main reason for which is the 150 line
limit of the text editor on this system. That same limit has driven
the way the story is structured to a degree as well.

For the benefit of non-American readers who may not be familiar with
"Gilliganís Island", I thought a brief explanation was in order.
"Gilliganís Island" was an American television series which ran on the
CBS television network for three seasons from 1964 to 1967. It went
into syndication before itís cancellation and since then has NEVER
been off the air. Many more modern television sitcoms have visited
Gilliganís Island in special episodes (including, most recently,
Roseanne). Gilliganís Island has become something of an American
television institution, both loved as an American television classic
and reviled as simple-minded trash.

The premise of the series involved the crew and passengers of the SS
Minnow, a small excursion boat which chartered island tours out of
Honolulu, Hawaii. Itís crew was "Skipper" Jonas Grumby (Alan Hale Jr.)
and his oafish first mate Gilligan (Bob Denver). The unlikely
passenger list was made up of multi-millionaire Thurston Howell III
(Jim Bachus), his wife "Lovey" (Natalie Schafer), Redheaded bombshell
movie star Ginger Grant (Tina Louise), "The Professor" Roy Hinkley,
Jr. (Russell Johnson), and farmgirl-next-door Mary Ann Summers (Dawn
Wells). During a three hour tour, the Minnow became shipwrecked on an
uncharted desert island somewhere in the South Pacific, although itís
sometimes stated location of 300 miles south-east of Hawaii would
actually put it in the NORTH Pacific. For three seasons they tried to
get rescued from the island while Gilliganís well meaning bumbling
fouled up all of their attempts.

Despite the sexual possibilities of such a situation, the show made it
through three seasons and three made for TV movies without a hint of
sex, and yet still managed to influence the sexuality of a generation
of young American males. Ginger with her low-cut gowns and Mary Ann
with her shorts and bare midriff added to the surreal nonsensical
quality of the show in that the three single men on the show never
lost complete control of themselves while faced with such delectable
feminine pulchritude. For the shows audience, however (yourís truly
included), the predicament of Mary Ann and Ginger fuelled many an
adolescent sexual fantasy.

This story is based on an actual episode of the series titled "High
Man on the Totem Pole", in which the castaways find a totem pole
topped by a carved head that is the spitting image of Gilligan. This
prompts Gilligan to believe that he is descended from the Kupa-Kai
headhunters who carved the pole. Until, of course, the REAL Kupa-Kai
headhunters show up on the island.

This story features mf and ff cons and nc sex, bondage and cannibals.
I made the Kupa-kai cannibals, rather than headhunters as they were in
the original episode, because I thought that cannibals offered better
sexual possibilities (and better jokes) than headhunters did. Besides;
whatís erotic about cutting off and shrinking someoneís head? At least
cannibals allow a lot of oral-sex possibilities.

I have tried to maintain the original spirit of the show in that the
violence is of a very comic-bookish nature. Despite the use of
cannibals as a plot development feature, this story contains NO SNUFF!
This is NOT "Agony in Pink." I am NOT going to kill off Ginger or Mary
Ann. If thatís what youíre looking for, write your own story. If you
want to explore the sexual possibilities that the original show never
did, then I invite you to read on and enjoy.

Gilligan Mahshukah, part 1

"Gilligan, Iíve been following you for what seems like an hour
already", grumbled the Skipper. "Do you have any idea where we are?"
"I know exactly where we are," answered Gilligan.
"Well, where are we then?"
"Weíre lost!"
"Oh, Gilligan! Well judging from the sky I think if we head
directly east weíll eventually hit the beach."
Gilligan looked around aimlessly. "That way!" said the Skipper,
pointing in the desired direction. Gilligan looked in the direction of
the Skipperís finger, hesitated, and looked back at the Skipper.
"Well, go on!" said the Skipper, pushing Gilligan toward a clump of
jungle foliage.
Gilligan stepped forward into the brush, pushing aside the branches to
create a path. The thick jungle growth pushed back as if resisting his
attempts to pass. Still, Gilligan pushed forward, walking straight
into a hanging vine which tangled itself around him. Within moments,
the vine had wrapped itself around Gilligan like a coiled spring,
which snapped Gilligan backward right into the Skipperís belly.
"Boohp!" gasped the Skipper.
Gilligan spun around to try to untangle the vine, which now
wrapped around the Skipper. The Skipper pulled on the vine, while
Gilligan continued his spinning, and soon the vine was wrapped around
both of them. The Skipper grabbed Gilligan to stop his spinning, and
gave the vine a mighty pull. The vine fell to the ground.
"Gilligan would you forget about the vine!" the Skipper growled as he
pushed Gilligan forward again. "MOVE!"
Gilligan stumbled head first into another clump of bushes, and
immediately his head hit on something solid. As he pushed aside the
branches and peered through, he encountered a horrible fierce face
staring back at him.
Gilliganís jaw dropped, and he jumped back gasping for breath.
"Yaah!", he gasped, and again bumped into the Skipper.
"What is wrong with you now?" asked the Skipper impatiently.
"Y-you lead the way!" Gilligan stammered.
The Skipper stepped forward and pushed the brush aside. The
same horrible face stared back through the branches. Startled, the
Skipper jumped back. Seeing nothing move, he pushed the branches aside
again. The face was fierce, but motionless. There was another above
it, and another above that, each one more horrible than the one below.
"It must be some kind of a native totem pole!" the Skipper exclaimed.
"Did you ever see a more horrible looking face?" asked Gilligan.
They looked up to the top of the pole. A lone carved head sat
motionlessly on top of the ediface, itís scrawny, almost emaciated,
features glaring back with a malevolence uncommon in carved wood.
"Look at that horrible one" said the Skipper.
Gilligan gaped at the cruel, yet simple features. There was
something oddly familiar about that horrible face. He stared at it for
a couple of seconds before realizing what it was.
"That horrible face is MINE!" he gasped.
Machetes are a useful tool for clearing away jungle growth.
The castaways were fortunate enough to always have at hand whatever
was needed for plot development, and so they had enough machetes for
the three men to use in clearing away the overgrowth surronding the
totem pole. In just enough time to allow the credits to roll, the
Professor, the Skipper and Gilligan had hacked it all away, and stood
back to get a good look at their new discovery.
"Itís a native totem pole, alright", announced the Professor after
mere seconds of observation, "carved by the Kupa-Kai Iíd say".
"Kupa who?" asked Gilligan.
"Gilligan, canít you understand English?" chided the
Skipper, "KUPA - KAI!"
"If thatís English I went to the wrong school!"
"Professor, what is a Kupa-Kai?" asked the Skipper.
"Theyíre a native tribe who used to inhabit some of the
islands in this area."
"Look at the head on top", said the Skipper, directing the point of
his machette to the top of the totem pole. "The face looks just like
Gilligan!"
"It does at that! A bit more ferrocious, perhaps, but it is an amazing
likeness."
"And I didnít even pose for it!" said Gilligan.
"Thatís really a good carving!" the Skipper observed, "Those
natives must be pretty handy with a knife!"
"Oh, theyíre handy with a knife, all right." said the Professor with a
slight twinge of irony in his voice. "A fork, too! The Kupa-Kai are
one of most ferrocious tribes of cannibals in the South Pacific!"
"You mean the people who carved that head... theyíre cannibals?"
gasped Gilligan.
"Thatís right."
"Do they hunt heads, too?"
"They save the heads as trophies after the banquet. Itís a common
practice of many of the cannibalistic tribes in this area."
"Do you think theyíre advertising for me?" asked Gilligan in a
trembling voice.
"Oh, I think the resemblance is just an odd coincidence, thatís all."
the Professor assured. "You must be a dead ringer for one of their
Kings."
"Please donít say dead," Gilligan stammered, "not while Iím alive."
"Relax, Gilligan!" said the Professor impatiently. "The Kupa-Kai must
have carved that pole many years ago. I really donít think you have
anything to worry about."
"Youíve really it made if those Kupa-Kaiís ever come back to the
island," joked the Skipper. "You look enough like one of those
Kupa-Kais the be one yourself!"
As usual, Gilligan didnít quite get the joke. He fell silent after
that and as the three walked back to the camp Gilligan cast his gaze
at the ground with a concerned expression on his face. He barely
spoke at all for the rest of the evening.
That night, Gilligan lay quiet in his hammock looking at himself in a
mirror.
"Skipper, how come nobody ever told me before I looked like a
Kupa-Kai?" asked Gilligan, finally breaking his silence.
"Because anybody who knows what a Kupa-Kai looks like isnít alive to
talk about it." the Skipper answered.
"I sure do look like one." said Gilligan, still examining the mirror
closely.
"Oh, Gilligan, itís just a coincidence; just like the Professor said."
Gilligan put down the mirror and looked down at the Skipper.
"I know what he said! But if two people have a face like mine it isnít
a coincidence!"
"Thatís true," said the Skipper smugly. "ITíD BE A
CATASTROPHE!"
"What if that old King is my great, great grandfather or something!?"
"Gilligan thatís the most ridiculous thing Iíve ever heard!
How could you possibly be related to a native South Pacific cannibal?"
"I donít know," answered Gilligan with a wild eyed stare, "But if that
old King on the pole is my anscestor... That means I have cannibalís
blood in me..."
This was pushing the limit of what little patience the Skipper had.
"WILL YOU KNOCK IT OFF!" he groweled angrily.
"There is such a thing as..." he searched for what he thought was the
right word, "Herdity!"
"HEREDITY," corrected the Skipper. "You look like him because of
HER-ED-IT-Y."
"You see!" exclaimed Gilligan. "Even YOU think he was my anscestor!"
"WILL YOU GO TO SLEEP, GILLIGAN."
Gilligan knew enough not to push it any farther. Except, that is, for
one last comment.
"Alright... But if you wake up tomorrow morning and you donít have
your head; donít say I didnít warn you!"
END OF PART 1
Gilligan Mahshukah part 2
Gilligan had never had much trouble sleeping and, even in his current
state of anxiety, he was soon falling fast asleep. As he faded off,
the image of the head on the totem pole continued to plague him, and
although there was none in the original episode (but then again, there
was no SEX in the original episode either), he began to detect the
wavy images and tinkling music of an upcoming dream sequence.
He could feel the bamboo crown of the totem pole head on his own head
and his torso was covered with a reed breastplate. Around his hips
was the grass skirt of a native and his wrists and ankles were adorned
by brightly colored bird feathers. He could feel and smell the
warpaint which covered his face and body as he lurked in a cover of
jungle shrubbery.
He listened, and could hear a voice approaching.
"Here we go gathering nuts in May, nuts in May, nuts in
May."
It was the sweet and innocent voice of Mary Ann as she skipped down
the jungle path carrying a basket of fruit. She was dressed in
Gilliganís favorite outfit: her short, almost bare shouldered, yellow
halter top and her short denim cut-offs, cut just short enough to show
the slight curve of her buttocks where they met with her delectable
thighs. Missing was the rise in front that usually hid her
bellybutton, which now winked at him from above her tight shorts
reminding him of a sweet lifesaver candy ready to be licked. The sight
of her made his mouth water and his stomach rumble, and as she passed
him he sprang on her from his jungle cover like a pouncing leopard.
"Eeak", she screamed and dropped the basket of fruit. He grabbed her
and dragged her over to a nearby stake.
"Oh, kind sir! You have such a kind face. How can I talk you out of
doing this horrible deed!" she pleaded as he pushed her up against the
stake and started to tie her hands to the stake with some jungle
vines.
"Oh, please! Do not harm me cannibal!" she begged, as he tightened the
vines around her lithe body.
He started a dance around her, and as he did so he heard a chorus of
drums begin to beat a sensual rhythm. Turning around, he saw two large
cooking pots nearby, one taller and narrower, the other a little
shorter and wider. He stooped to pick up the fruit that Mary Ann had
dropped and, walking over to the shorter pot, he threw it in. Picking
up a large spoon he stirred the water in the pot, and scooped up a
small amount of it which he brought to his lips to taste.
It tasted like hot water.
"Needs salt," he said, and grabbing a handful of salt from a
nearby box he dropped it into the steaming water and tasted it again.
This time it tasted just like onion soup.
He also discovered that he now had a bone in his nose.
Turning around again he looked over at Mary Ann. He wasnít
sure how sheíd gotten there (but one doesnít question a dream,
especially if youíre Gilligan) but Ginger was now tied to a stake
right next to Mary Ann. Ginger was dressed in her two-piece pink
floral sarong. Her shoulders and midriff were bare, and one creamy
white leg protruded from the slit in the lower part the sarong which
covered her from her ankles to her 24 inch waist. Next to her stood a
long-haired, muscle-bound cannibal warrior who was pinching the meat
on her voluptuous thigh. Ginger struggled half-heartedly against her
bonds as the warrior moved his hands to feel her ample white belly.


Concluding the caress, he licked his fingers.
"I canít believe itís not butter!" the hunkish warrior exclaimed in a
funny Italian accent.
Gilligan strode toward the bound Mary Ann feeling very much like the
Cannibal King, and walked up to inspect his catch. Looking down at
her feet, which were bare, he brought his gaze up to her delicate
ankles, and then to her firm, trim and tanned legs and lingered his
gaze a while at her equally firm, yet plump and curvy thighs. Letting
his gaze scan up past her tight-fitting shorts, he drank in the sight
of her perfect, flat tummy. He had lost count of how many times he had
looked at that tummy before and how many times he had secretly
fantasized about sticking his tongue into her tiny, deep navel. Above
her belly he could see her nipples poking out through the fabric of
her yellow halter top, and the cleavage of her small, pert breasts
above the lace ruffles at the elastic edge. Her brown chest and
shoulders ended at the bottom of her long tapering neck, above which
was her innocent angelic face surrounded by jet-black hair; braided
into pig-tails.
Gilligan smacked his lips at the sight and poked her gently on her
perfect tummy. He had to know her taste, and this was the place to do
it.
He got down onto his knees, and unfastened the button on her shorts.
Pulling aside the flaps as he unzipped her shorts, he leaned forward
and plunged his tongue into her waiting navel. She moaned and wiggled
as he licked her tummy in long, random sweeps. The taste reminded him
of roast beef au jus, which Mary Annís golden brown coloring had
always reminded him of.
Standing back up Gilligan licked his lips again.
"UNGAWA!" he said with a big smile while rubbing his belly,
although he had no idea what the word meant or why he said it.
Now he turned his attention to Ginger. As Mary Ann was petite and
dark, Ginger was tall, voluptuous and light. Her long red hair fell
about her pale white shoulders and her pink sarong top barely
contained her large, soft breasts.
"Oh Gilligan, you wouldnít do anything to me, would you?
Weíve always been friends, Gilligan" she said in a pleading, but still
characteristically sensuous voice.
Gilligan did not answer. All he could do was to stare at those
breasts. He had always wanted to feast his eyes on them, and now he
would. Reaching out with his left hand, he grabbed hold of the fabric
encasing his prize, and he gave it a firm pull. The sarong top fell
away easily and Gingerís breasts fell free.
They were white as buttermilk, with rosebud pink nipples at the tips.
Gilligan reached out his hands to stroke them. They felt soft and
velvety in his hands. They were large, and more than a mouthful, so he
opened his mouth wide and wrapped his jaws around one of Gingerís
milky-white globes. He sucked it in as far as he could get it to go,
and swirled his tongue around her translucent titty-flesh. Her breast
tasted like vanilla ice-cream, with a sweet maraschino cherry on top.
He squeezed her other breast with his hand as he licked around the
one.
Switching, he moved his mouth to the other breast, which had now
picked up an added flavor of whipped cream. He slid his tongue down
the crease in the middle of her belly, which tasted like white
chocolate, down to her navel. Pressing his tongue deep into Gingerís
bellybutton, he could taste one of Mary Annís coconut-cream pies.
As he tongued Gingerís bellybutton, he ran his hands up her legs under
the sarong. From sensuous calves to tender thighs to...
... He felt the soft down of her bush.
Removing his tongue from Gingerís navel he pulled aside the flaps of
the sarong, and as he did so he saw a flash of red.
In seeming anticipation of what was coming next, Ginger raised her
legs and wrapped them around Gilliganís head. He licked his lips in
preparation for the next taste treat and closed his eyes, ready to
take the plunge into that delightful patch of strawberry colored fur.
He brought up his hands and grabbed hold of Gingerís sensual thighs,
but...
Something was wrong. He felt...
HAIR!
Gilligan opened his eyes and fell backward out of the grip of Gingerís
legs, and looking up he saw that Ginger was gone. In her place was a
tall, thin man with a moustache.
"Hey, Waddaya think YOUíRE doing!" the man said in a familiar voice.
"What are ya, some kinda wise guy?"
Gilligan turned his head, and tied to the next stake where Mary Ann
should have been was a short, plump man dressed in jungle khakis and a
pith helmet.
"Youíve been a baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad boy!" said the man in a high
pitched, whiny voice.
Gilligan woke up screaming.
End of Part 2
Gilligan Mahshukah part 3
"So weíve got a real problem," said the Skipper with his mouth full of
mornings breakfast.
"You mean Gilligan really thinks he came from a long line of
headhunting cannibals?" asked Ginger incredulously.
"Oh thatís ridiculous!" Mary Ann interjected, "Heís the sweetest, most
gentle boy Iíve ever known."
"Well that may be so, Mary Ann," said the Skipper, "But after he woke
up from that dream he went out into the jungle to stare at his
ancestor some more."
"Oh, pooh," scoffed Mrs. Howell. "If he was a headhunter why would he
settle with the head he has?"
"Donít poo-poo heredity," instructed Mr. Howell. "Like they say,
ĎBlood will tell.í"
Ginger shivered. "Thatís easy for you to say, Mr. Howell, he didnít
have a dream about turning YOU into a blue-plate special!"
"That only shows that he does have some taste after all!" said Mr.
Howell with a lecherous smile. "Iíve had similar dreams about you
myself!"
Mrs. Howell was not amused by that comment, and announcing they were
done with breakfast dragged Mr. Howell back to their hut.
"That dream really spooked him," said the Skipper. "He said it all
seemed so natural and familiar to him, as if heís seen it all before!"
"He probably did!" said Ginger. "It sounded to me a lot like a scene
from an old Abbott and Costello movie!"
"Dream or no dream, Gilligan is NOT a cannibal and we all know it,"
insisted Mary Ann.
"Yeah, but how are we going to convince HIM of that?" asked the
Skipper rhetorically.
At that moment Gilligan walked by the breakfast table with a blank
expression on his face.
"Hi, Gilligan!" said Mary Ann cheerfully. "Want some breakfast?"
"How would you like to go fishing, little buddy?" asked the Skipper as
Gilligan continued by in a daze.
"Well," said Ginger. "The last time I saw an open-mouthed stare like
that was when I was entertaining some GIís at a USO performance."
"How are we going to get Gilligan to forget about that totem pole?"
Mary Ann wondered aloud. The others shrugged their shoulders, and
cleared the breakfast table.
Later, while Mary Ann and Ginger were doing the breakfast dishes,
Gilliganís dilemma was still the topic of conversation.
"Can you believe Gilligan actually believing heís descended from a
cannibal?" said Mary Ann to Ginger.
"It might explain the way heís looked at us before." Ginger answered.
"Iím sure that has nothing to do with it," replied Mary Ann.
"Besides, I refuse to believe that Gilligan could do harm to anyone."
"I donít know," said Ginger with a far-way, wistful look.
"Iím not sure Iíd entirely mind being eaten once in a while. Iím not
used to the lack of male attention I get on this island. A little
excitement and danger would be a nice change."
"Well," said Mary Ann sarcastically, "maybe this is your opportunity.
If you can get Gilliganís attention away from that totem pole, that
is."
Gingerís face brightened with a look of inspiration, and then changed
to a sly expression.
"Mary Ann," she said, "Youíve given me an idea."
Back at the totem pole Gilligan sat staring intently at the
faces on the pole; particularly the head on top. Ginger slinked up
wearing her sexiest gown and stood between the totem pole and
Gilligan, who just looked around her as if she were a branch that had
gotten in the way.
"Hi Gilligan," she said in her most alluring voice, "would you like to
take a nice, long walk with me in the jungle?"
"No Thanks," he said, almost as if he hadnít actually heard what she
had said.
"Then how about a cool, refreshing swim? Iíll wear my polka-dot
bikini," she added, while gliding her hands over the hour-glass shape
of her figure. THAT should get his attention, she thought.
"I wonder if they shrink a lot," was his only reply.
She laughed and flashed him a sexy smile. "If they did
thereíd be only one dot left," she said, still talking about her
bikini.
The comment did momentarily divert his attention, though.
"No," he said. "I was wondering if those cannibals shrink a
lot of heads."
Gingers smile disappeared and she turned to glance at the totem pole.
She threw her head back and made a Ďtskí sound. "Oh Gilligan," she
said as if talking to a silly child.
Getting down on her knees she put her hands gently on Gilliganís lap
and looked at him eye to eye. He couldnít ignore her now. "You know,
they say that she shortest distance between two points is a straight
line. Do you know what Iím talking about?"
"No," he answered with a confused look on his face. "I never was very
good at math."
Ginger was not used to this. Any other man would have had his tongue
down her throat by now, she thought. More direct methods would be
required here, she decided, and stood back up.
Reaching up she took hold of the straps which held her dress up at her
shoulders and slipped them off. She pulled the dress down over her
breasts and let it drop to her waist. Then she shimmied the dress down
over her luscious wide hips and let it drop to the ground. She now
stood before Gilligan, naked, with her dress around her heels.
"Will you stop looking at that totem pole and look at me for a
minute," she said in a demanding tone.
Gilliganís mouth dropped open. He had dreamed about how Ginger would
look naked but this was the first time he had ever actually seen her
entirely in the buff with his eyes open and his dick not in his hand.
The totem pole was momentarily forgotten.
Coming out of nowhere, he heard the sultry wail of a saxophone as he
slowly scanned his eyes up Gingerís naked body. Her feet in white,
high-heeled pumps; her long, firm and shapely legs; her full thighs;
the red patch of her bush; her shapely, wide hips; the soft curve of
her mons venus; her narrow waist, oval navel and flat stomach; the
ridges of her ribs; her large full, white breasts with rosy pink
nipples; soft shoulders; long, slender neck and, of course, her
glamorous, movie star face and fiery red hair.
"Now," Ginger said in her most sexy, breathiest voice. "What has that
totem pole got that I havenít got?"
Gilligan couldnít speak. He could barely catch his breath.
The light of the sun reflecting off Gingerís hair made it look like
her head was glowing with fire, and her white skin looked almost
translucent. She looked to Gilligan like an angel standing there. But
as he looked at her nakedness, his thoughts turned to things which
could hardly be described as angelic. He felt his mouth begin to water
as he remembered his dream.
Suddenly it was as if he were possessed. he fell forward and grabbed
hold of Gingerís hips and, as he had done in his dream, he pushed his
tongue into Gingerís navel.
She let out a sigh. "Thatís more like it," she said and gently rested
her hands on Gilliganís head. "But I think you might like it better a
little bit lower."
For once, Gilligan didnít need it explained to him. He slid his tongue
downward over the fine down of her red pubic hair. His tongue spread
open the flaps of her labia and found the wet, smooth interior of her
pussy.
Ginger took Gilligan by the shoulders and pulled him down with her as
she rolled backward onto the ground. Gilligan was in between her legs
and Ginger spread her legs open. Gilligan spread the flaps of her
labia with his hands and peered into the juicy pinkness of her pussy.
He slowly licked around the pink interior until his tongue found the
bump of her clitoris, which he clamped his lips around and sucked,
flicking her clit with his tongue as he did so.
"Oh Gilligan," she moaned in pleasure, "now thatís what I call a
cannibal!"

    

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