Cannibalism phone sex gives new meaning to be being eaten out! I answered an ad on Craig’s List for a physically fit cage dancer. I’ve got meat on my bones. I workout. I have done my share of private dancing for extra cash. I showed up looking sexy for the interview. A nice older man invited me inside. Some wonderful scent permeated through the house. He saw my nose inhale and a smile come over my face. “My special meat sauce,” he said. He told me he was a private chef hosting a high end dinner party. His guests would enjoy special entertainment. We talked for a while. He asked about eating habits; my health history and then took my measurements I figured it was for an outfit.
I followed him to his basement to check out the cage I would be dancing in. The moment the cage opened, he shoved me inside, tied me up and locked the door. “Silly girl. Don’t you know it’s dangerous to come to a stranger’s home,” he said with an evil glean in his eyes. I started to plead for release. Begged him not to hurt me. “I’m not going to harm a hair on your pretty head sweetie. I never play with my food,” he chuckled. Food? Surely, I misunderstood him. Hannibal Lector is a fictional character. Then I saw his special kitchen. In his basement he had industrial size everything.
I could smell something cooking on the stove. Dear God. Was it some other girl who answered the same ad? “Now now Cassie, don’t panic yet. That is just the special meat sauce. A good meal is all about the preparation dear,” he spoke like he was talking about Arby’s special sauce. Suddenly, there was another man in the room, much younger than him. His son I thought. He started feeling my body, marking up certain parts of me like a side of beef. He circled the rump, thighs, stomach and breasts. When he realized I had fake tits, he got disappointed. I thought this was my out. But Dr. Lector handed him a big knife and he cut the silicon out of my breasts. I was bleeding all over myself and the cage. I felt a fire hose on me. I felt like a dirty caged animal.
I was getting weak from fear and blood loss. I passed out for a second, but awoke to being basted in a sweet smelling sticky substance. I was being marinated. “I told you honey. It is all about the preparation. You are going to be delicious,” he said softly in my ear as he coated my flesh with his special sauce. I passed out. Woke up to the pain of a metal rod being rammed up my ass. I felt so weak and sleepy, but the heat sensation revived me. I was being slowly roasted over an open flame. “Don’t cry pretty girl. You are going to make several men very happy tonight. Haven’t you heard that the way to a man’s heart is his stomach?”