Cannibalism phone sex-Sadistic Phone Sex

Guess Whose Coming to Dinner?

I answered an ad in the Back Pages for a stripper gram job. I have the perfect body for it, and needed the extra cash. I arrived at the house for what was my very first delivery. I even had balloons attached to my nipples. Fancy house in Santa Barbara along the ocean. Two strapping young men answered, invited me inside. They offered me some wine to take off the edge. Next thing I knew, I was naked on a table and a Goth evil looking bitch was standing over me with a blow torch. The guys called her Storm.

“What the fuck is going on,” I demanded to know. Storm, used the blow torch on my nipples, charring them. I let out a yelp, started to scream bloody murder, when an apple was shoved in my mouth. The boys started playing with my pussy when Storm, slapped their hands away. “Don’t play with your food,” she quipped. Food? WTF? Was I dinner? I started to panic. I looked around and saw huge bottles of seasoning, big pots and pans and a Hansel and Gretel sized oven. When I glanced back at Storm she was holding a life size spit grill.

Storm instructed her male accomplices to scrub my body, wash my hair and get me clean for seasoning. I heard her tell them for the best meal, dirty whores need cleansed of all the nasty chemicals on their body. “Meal preparation is the key, boys to a tasty, healthy meal,” she informed them. I was strapped to the table, couldn’t move. I had hoped this was some elaborate joke, but Storm did not appear to be the joking kind. Her kitchen help even shaved my pussy and gave me a douche to clean out what Storm referred to as my “skanky stripper pussy.” After my body was clean, the boys covered me in melted butter while Storm sprinkled me with ground pepper. She was telling the boys I was the perfect size for eating. Not too skinny, not too fat, just the right size of plump.

I knew what was coming next. I clenched my teeth, closed my eyes, and waited for the pain. The boys rammed that spit up my ass and out my mouth. I felt it pierce my innards. Storm washed the blood from my face, but the apple back on the end of the spit. They put me over an open fire, turned me a few times to char my flesh. The pain was excruciating. I wished for a quick death. It did not come. The aroma of my seasoned burning flesh was intoxicating to Storm and her henchmen, but nauseating to me. I could hear them talking about how good I smelled. I wanted to die. They pulled me off the fire pit, and shoved me in this big oven.

Flames engulfed my body. Smoke filled my nose. The smell of my seasoned flesh permeating my nose. Before I passed out, I heard Storm say, “Rick will be very pleased with his special dinner.”

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