The heat in the room was stifling, but it was only hints to what was so come. I was watching him at work, the master chef. He was at home in this room. Upon the large cutting board table lay a lovely little asian teen. Her skin was fair, her body small and her face pretty. She’d been hog tied and the man was slowly picking through his spice rack and fresh herbs. His strong thin hands seemed to caress over the dried spices, as if waiting for the right ones to cry out to him. “Let’s see here..” he said softly, mostly to himself I think. “Garlic, Onion, and a touch of Ginger… Ginger is perfect when making something Oriental.” He glanced over his shoulder at her and smiled. I noticed him pulling out a bottle of soy sauce and some rice vinegar. Turning back to the girl, he poured a little soy sauce onto her legs and ass, then gently he started rubbing it into her skin. “We must work the flavors into the flesh and that will help you taste so much sweeter my dear.” he cooed almost lovingly to her. “And once I have you all roasted, you make for some amazing stir-fry.” he liked one of his fingers before pour on more soy sauce, then a few drops of rice vinegar and then he started sprinkling on coats of the dried herbs with a touch of brown sugar.
Stepping back, he admired her for a moment. The cute girl now smothered and primed with flavors. Pulling on a rope beside the table, she was hauled up off the table. I could hear her crying. Big heavy sobs that were stopped by the orange that was forced into her mouth. He slowly tipped her so her face was aimed at the ground and my eyes widened as he slipped another full bottle of soy sauce right into her pussy. I swallowed hard as you could see the slight movement in the glass bottle as its contents were being emptied into her. As it drained, he was moving her towards what looked like a huge pressure cooker. He gently lowered her in and before she vanished inside of it, he reached in and pulled the now empty bottle out. “Sweet dreams dear.” he said before releasing the chains that bound her from the ropes he was using to move her. His smile grew as he lowered the lid and sealed it tight. “Who doesn’t love a bit of Chinese…” he whispered as he set the temperature and the timer.
Then he turned and his eyes were on me. “Now you lovely thing, you are not Chinese… No. You are full blooded American! You know what that means? Barbeque.” He licked his lips as he looked me up and down from where I hung from the ceiling. My hands and ankles bound in chains. He had an apple shoved so hard into my mouth it hurt to try and bite down on it. As he moved to me, he grabbed up a bowl from the table. In it was nothing but warmed butter and a little salt. Dripping a hand in, he reached out and started rubbing it onto my skin. So warm and slick, I tried not to moan as he gripped and squeezed my large tits but I couldn’t stop. “Such a fine piece of meat you are..” he murmured as he grabbed more and kept working it all over me. Once I was all buttered, he went back to his herbs and spices table, mixing up a batch of homemade barbeque sauce. He was so focused on his task, pouring in the tomato sauce, a bit of water, apple cider vinegar, brown sugar, some pepper, ground mustard and lemon juice. He was about to add the Worcestershire sauce when I started yelling and shaking my head. He looked my way and frowned as it was clear I was trying to say something.
Coming over to me, he pulled the apple out with a sudden jerk. I gasped and groaned as I moved my sore jaw. “Tabasco..” I moaned out. His brows came together.
“What?” he asked.
“Tabasco sauce… If you’re going to barbecue me I won’t have it done with such a weak sauce. It’s gotta have a kick to it.. Like me.” I said. I know it was stupid to help him, but damn it if I was going to be cooked and eaten, then I better well be cooked just right.
A smile started tugging at the corners of his lips, like my request was not what he was expecting. But he shoved the apple back in and turned away.
“Fine, Tabasco it is.” He went back to finishing it up. IT was almost a hypnotic process when he came to me and started brushing on the sticky sauce. I knew what was coming and I was afraid, my heart started pounding in my chest as he started moving me. I could feel the heat rising and then I was being lowered. The first contact I had with the hot grill was blinding white pain and then more as I was fully laid out over the hot coals. The pain was making me pass out, but the last thought I had was, Damn… I smell yummy…
As little ones, we are force fed obey your elders, respect you parents. It’s bullshit. Not all parents are created equally. Not all mothers deserve to live. My mommy dearest was a strung out welfare whore who cared more about her next fix and her next check than she did clothing and feeding her brat. I saw the Bad Seed as a wee one and it excited me that someone so young and angelic could be a murderous little brat. She was my hero.
I stood waiting for my cunt mother to come find me, half expecting she wouldn’t even notice me gone and thwart my evil plan. But she came yelling at me like a crazed junkie jonesing for her next fix. I stood there in the door frame refusing to come to her, until she was right next to me grabbing my arm. One shove with little hands and down went the junkie whore. As she bounced down the creepy old subway stairwell, I heard her cries. I heard her bones break. I heard her skull crush. I walked calmly down the stairs, getting aroused by the blood splatter until I saw her dead body. I took her cell phone, snapped a picture of her laying there broken, battered, bloodied and dead. My first kill memory. I took enough money to get home and left the rest.
