The weather here in Oregon has been rather intense, with heavy snow and powerful winds with temperatures in the single digits. I was on my way home from a shopping trip at a newer little Mennonite store that was opened here in town. I love it there for all of the bulk, raw, whole foods I can get to work with. No processed pesto here! The snow was driving thickly to the ground, and through it I glimpsed some blinking hazard lights from a disabled vehicle. I pulled over to see what the situation was, and was pleasantly surprised to see a thick-thighed beauty pop out of the car waiving. She was wearing these nice, soft leggings that outlined her hips just beautifully, with a smaller waist and bountiful breasts. I opened my passenger door and waived her in.
She sat down and curled up against the shivers racking her body. “Oh thank you! I thought no one would stop. It’s so cold, my car died almost an hour ago, and my cell is still in the shop, so I couldn’t call for help!”
“My goodness! I’m so sorry to hear that! Do you have all of your purse and identification with you? My place isn’t too terribly far away, I’ll take you there and get you warmed up with something hot to drink, and get you a phone so we can get your vehicle taken care of. Do you need to call your mom or anything?” I asked the slightly blue-faced girl.
“No, mom died last year, and I never knew dad. It’s just me.” She said, her teeth still chattering.
I smiled inwardly, no attachments. Even better!
Once I got her inside and sat down, I called Rick downstairs. He smiled graciously at our guest, and asked, “Langley, darling! I had no idea we were having a guest for dinner!?”
“I found her out in the snow all alone. Her vehicle was stranded, the poor dear is all alone in the world, and was nearly half frozen!” I replied as I handed her a cup of steaming hot chocolate.
“Oh my dear young lady! You sip that heat into you and we’ll get you warmed all up. Then we’ll see what to do with you.”
Before she could reply, her eyes were drooping, the “special ingredient” I added was working already. Easy with a chilled, dehydrated body to begin with.
“It’s not often that we have meat that is both frozen, and fresh!” I joked with Rick, getting a warm smile and a chuckle in return.
Once she was thoroughly cleaned inside and out, and shaved nice and smooth, we began rubbing her down with fine coconut oil. I wanted to try some new flavors for the coming up Christmas holiday, so I ground cloves with my ginger root and some allspice, and tossed it with pineapple chunks. I used this to stuff her young, smooth cunt, and her very nicely cleaned little asshole, followed by a wild rice blend I came up with. Then sewed her tightly shut.
I also cut tiny slits, deep and sideays into the thicker parts of her tits, stomach, and thighs, adding a few whole cloves to add to her aroma. I filled her stomach with the same stuffing mix as in her other end, plus some apples. I have a very soft spot for apple stuffing when it comes to the wilder, richer meats.
Together we tied her to the specialized spit, securing her legs slightly apart, her hands and arms were carefully bound with baking twine, and her head fastened to the headrest we had made, so no part of her would wiggle. It’s important for the girl meat to stay exactly where we put it! She began to stir a little bit, whimpering and crying with the sensations of all her holes being full and sewed shut. She tried to cry, beg, to scream. But a throat full of stuffing, and a sewn-shut mouth didn’t allow for words. As hard as she tried to open her lips, she only managed to pull and tug her sutures, making them bleed a little.
Rick lit the fire, and we curled up in our chairs in front of the fire pit to watch her roast. We took turns every so often turning her over and over a few times, so we got a nice, even roast. She cried and sobbed for nearly an hour over the low heat, before her blood finally thickened and boiled within her, making her shut down. around 6 hours in, after the side dishes were prepared, she was done. Her internal temp had reached around 170 degrees, and deep splits were showing on all sides. With the repetitive basting and seasoning while she was roasting, her skin had developed a beautiful dark golden brown finish, and she smelled so beautiful and fragrant!
We served her with a nice festive salad, fresh whole grain bread, and cranberry sauce.
“Happy holidays, Rick. Here’s cheers to many more satisfying shopping trips, and beautiful meals together!’
He smiled, “Happy holidays, Langley. We make a great team! Cheers!”
Cold duck was such a perfect, bubbly drink to wash our holiday roasted long pig down with.
Do you have bondage phone sex fantasies? I am a bondage whore. I love being tied up. I think it is the vulnerability I enjoy. Not knowing what might happen to me next. I met Brett at a bondage club. There are all sorts of rules at a club. We sparked, so we left the club and came back to his place. His bedroom was a BDSM palace. He had a bed designed especially for BDSM games. He chained me to the bar above the bed. I was worked up with anticipation of what might come next. But what came next was he left. He left his house with me chained to his bed. It seemed like eternity before I heard the door open again. But who walked into the bedroom was not a man I knew. It was not Brett. I asked who he was. He slapped me hard across the face, then choked me until I passed out. I woke up with his dick down my throat. Brett returned with a few more friends. What I thought would be some fun bondage games, turned into a gangbang rape porn. I was chained up and fucked in every hole. Some of the men forced booze down my throat until I was puking. I was a hot mess. Covered in puke and cum. His bed looked like a porn shoot with all the cum everywhere. Eventually the whips and chains made an appearance too. I should have stayed at the club. They have rules about the exchange of bodily fluids. Here I was a captive for a group of strangers using me as a human toilet and cum dumpster. They all passed out eventually, but I was still chained to the bar above Brett’s bed. I woke up the next day smelling of booze and sex. I was sore from my arms being suspended above me for almost 24 hours while fucked. I prayed they were done with me, but day two was just the beginning of a weeklong torture experiment.
