## Archive-name: the_feast

Thick leather straps bound the statuesque brunette to the horizontal oak pole. Strategically placed at her ankles, knees, waist, chest, elbows and wrists, they held her nude, outstretched form firmly anchored to the slowly rotating spit.

All afternoon she had been slowly turning over the warm coals, the well-proportioned male slave at the crank stopping only to preform an occasional basting of her smooth, sensuous form.

By now her skin was pink and sensitive to the touch, and the heat from coals was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Each new application of the sauce and seasonings was a welcome relief as it was poured over her body and, mixed with sweat, dripped to coals below with an audible *hiss*.

Guests would occasionally wander by, running a finger along a heated thigh or massaging pinkening breast. Comments such as "Mmmmm, she's going to be delicious!" or "I can't wait till dinner!" were not uncommon.

No reaction to these remarks was evident from the woman, however--an injection earlier in the day insured that, although she was fully conscious and alert, she retained no control over the voluntary muscles in her body. Later, they would gradually begin to respond to the commands her brain sent; for now she hung limp and exposed on the relentlessly turning spit.

Finally, around 5 pm, the slow rotation ceased. The brunette felt the oak pole being lifted from the heat. Two large men--the crank operator and another--held the pole from either end and carried her, still strapped beneath it, from the room.

The two deposited her on a kitchen counter. The smooth, cool formica was a welcome relief as it touched her hot, tender skin. As she lay face down on the counter, the two men began to free the straps which held her to the spit. In a moment, she was completely freed, and the pole was removed.

After a moment, when nothing more happened, the brunette opened her eyes and surveyed her surroundings. She was lying on a large counter along the side of what seemed to be a large kitchen. In the center of the room was a large preparation table, and in the middle of the table was a very large silver tray filled with a bed of lettuce leaves, sliced carrots, and baby tomatoes. Although she could not move or turn her head, she could sense the presence of the two male slaves who had carried her in here.

As she took this all in, she heard the click of a pair of high heels enter the room.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Put her on the service tray," she heard a new, female, voice command. The order was immediately followed by the a pair of hands grasping her wrists and ankles, lifting her, and laying her on the silver tray, face up. The lettuce was much less comfortable than the countertop, and irritated her sensitive skin.

Her head resting on a raised handle at one end of the tray, the brunette could now more easily view the area. She was indeed in a kitchen, and a very well stocked one, at that. All along the walls were racks containing every assortment of spices, herbs, seasonings, and sauces. In addition, there was a large walk-in pantry and refrigerator at the far end of the room.

As she lay absorbing her environs, the woman who had spoken, a tall, muscular blonde, approached the tray on which she lay.

"Mmmmm...nicely done. Not undercooked, not overcooked," she mused as she gently prodded the brunette's breasts and thighs with a fork, adding in a firmer voice, "bind her to the tray."

Immediately, the two males grasped her ankles and tied them to handles at the far end of the tray. Next her wrists were securely attached to her ankles. Finally, a strap was placed at her delicate throat, holding her head firmly in place.

The blonde woman gazed down at her appraisingly.

"My she looks tastey," she said, running a finger up the inside of the brunette's right thigh to her hairless opening and then licking the lingering seasonings from the digit. Dismissing the two servants with a curt nod, she strode to refrigerator and removed a large bowl and carried it over the preparation table on which the brunette's tray lie.

"First a butter base," the woman said as she dipped a basting brush into the bowl. Starting with the brunette's forehead, face, and neck, she and began to liberally apply a coat of soft butter the immobile woman's tingling skin. When these were thoroughly coated, she began working the brush downward, occasionally dipping into the bowl for more as she applied the slipperly glaze to the brunette's inflamed skin.

For her part, the brunette actually enjoyed the gentle brush strokes. The smooth, cool butter acted as a salve to her burning skin, leaving it less painful, but still highly sensitive to the touch.

The blonde had soon finished applying the slippery substance to her skin. Bending close to the bound woman's ear, she whispered, "I think you're going to enjoy this next part, my morsel."

Dipping the brush once more into the butter, the woman began to an especially heavy coat to the brunette's shaved pubis. After insuring that the clitorous and outer lips had been fully painted, she began to work brush into deeper and deeper into her vagina, withdrawing occasionally to add more butter to the brush. Were it not for the immobilizing drugs coursing through her veins, the brunnette would soon have been thrashing about, such was the intensity of the sensation. As it was, she lay impassively on the tray; but her eyes--though partially obscured with clumps of butter--told the story.

After several minutes, the brush was withdrawn for the final time and placed to the side. Turning to a drawer, the blonde removed a large implement resembling an oversize eyedropper. The tube was about 9 inches long and an 1 1/2 inches in diameter, and ended in a nozzle at on end and a squeeze bulb at the other. The brunette watched as the woman strode to the stovetop, dipped the nozzle into a barely simmering pot, and, sqeezing the handle, sucked a copious amount of yellow fluid into the device.

Wordlessly, she returned to the tray, placed the nozzle of the device at the brunette's opening, and pushed. The plastic tube slid easily into the buttered hole, until only the sqeeze handle remained outside her body. Smiling, the blonde squeezed the bulb, and the brunette felt an instant rush of hot liquid inside her cunt.

"Melted butter," the blonde explained simply as she removed the thing and turned back to the stove to refill it.

Scant seconds after the invader had been extracted, she felt the hot liquid pour from her cunt and run down the crack of her ass. In a moment, the rush subsided to a mere trickle, and stopped, though she could still feel a significant amount still pooled inside her. The feeling was not unlike that of a man's semen, although she had never experienced such a large amount.

Soon the blonde returned and repeated the procedure with the woman's anus, forcing the plastic intruder deep within her rectum and unleashing a torrent of hot liquid inside. When the nozzle was removed, her sphincter once again clamped shut, trapping most of the melted butter, although a slight amount escaped.

The blonde seemed to be becoming increasingly enthusiastic in her work. She now returned to the refrigerator and picked a large carrot--fully 10 inches in length and 2 inches in diameter- -from among those on a lower shelf. She then returned to the brunette and positioned the vegetable at her rear opening and, with one shove, buried the carrot in the woman's ass so that only an inch of orange, topped with leafy green, remained outside.

Despite the abundance of liquid butter, which helped lubricate the way, the rough, ridged surface of the raw carrot excrutiating pain in the brunette. Had it been gently worked in, the phallic-shaped vegetable might have been pleasant; the blonde's brutal stroke had made it feel like nothing short of an impaling spear. Outwardly, of course, she could give no sign, and continued to lie impassively on the tray.

Next the blonde retreived something from one of the kitchen drawers--the brunette was unable to see exactly what it was at first, but as she felt the metal device being placed in her vagina and slowly opened, she soon recognized it as an ob/gyn's implement. In a few moments, her cunt was opened as wide as was physically possible, bring a fresh gush of liquid butter from inside her.

Having accomplished this task, the blonde turned to a large container on the counter and brought it to the prep table. Opening it, she pulled out a handful of seasoned moist bread crumbs. With shock, the brunette realized she was about to be stuffed like a turkey!

The discomfort of the device holding her open not withstanding, the process was not painful: the blonde would scoop up a partial handful of the stuffing, and place it at the distended opening of her cunt, then use her fingers to push it deeper into the brunette's sex. The well-buttered walls of her cunt easily allowed the stuffing to pass deeper in. Soon the brunette was feeling a comfortable fullness in her opening, and she knew herself to be nearly full.

But the blonde did not pause in her task. With methodical care, she continued to stuff more and more into the brunette's hole, packing it in with her fingers, when necessary to force more and more inside. The brunette, by this time, was feeling increasingly uncomfortable and distended. How much more would there be?

Finally, the task was done. The blonde carefully removed the device which held the woman's cunt open. As she did so, the opening contracted, but only slightly--the stuffing had been so tightly packed that even the muscular walls of the woman's cunt were unable to squeeze shut.

Ladle in hand, the blonde began to coat the brunette's body with a thick, yellow, honey-mustard sauce. Quite warm to the touch, it quickly melted the soft butter base and blended to form a coating on the woman's skin. Next she arranged a selection of sliced turkey parts and cranberry sauce around the edge of the tray and imbedded a serving spoon in the stuffing-filled cunt.

By now it was nearing diner time, and only one step remained to be completed: fetching a medium-sized apple from the refrigerator, the blonde forced it into the woman's mouth.

Her work done, the blonde called for the two male servants had them carry the tray, brunette and all, out to the waiting buffet table.

A cheer went up from the crowd as the woman was placed on the table, and soon a line had formed as each guest awaited his or her turn to sample the repast.

As the last guest spooned a plateful of stuffing from deep within the brunette's pussy, the blonde approached, bent low, and whispered in her ear.

"Its only a month until the Christmas party, my love...what do you think we should serve for dinner?"

The brunette, with great effort, smiled.

Last modified (12/24/96 16:11:37) by Eli-the-Bearded.

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