Posted by hisdinner on February 28, 2002 at 17:53:11:
Spring Lamb by hisdinner
He called it trolling for lambs, and he sent me out, the Judas goat, to fetch them. He secured a spot across the plaza, under a Cinzano umbrella, and he slouched down in his chair, eyes unseen behind sunglasses. I always wore a lemon yellow sundress, flimsy, feminine, and sat, back lit, my nipples and the swell of my breasts outlined in a golden glow. The girls flocked here; this was the place to stroll after school or work. I laid out several pastel sketches on the table before me, erotic studies of slim, curved beauties. A box of pastels lay open, and I held one in my hand, musing over a blank sheet as I scanned the crowd.
It worked every time. The timid and the uptight rushed past, their eyes skittering off the rich skin tones, the splayed legs, the rouged nipples, the sensual mouths. The curious slowed, and the hungry ones stopped cold. They always avoided my eyes at first, glancing from the crayon in my hand to the blank sheet, and then, rapidly scanning the nudes displayed, they always asked, "Could you draw me?" I glanced across the plaza to get his response. His reactions sometimes surprised me. He might nod approval for a mousy, nondescript girl, and wave away an obvious tart. Sometimes he'd accept only the red heads, or the large-breasted beauties, and other times, only the very small. His tastes were varied. And they grew. Toward the end of this game, he had me collect up to five at a time. And this is what we'd do:
I gathered up the girls, and my art, rolled the sketches, tucked them into a tube, and asked the girls to join me for drinks and talk in our studio. I said, oh, no, it's just a short walk, and you'll love the view from the balcony. This first time, he had selected a blond waif and a sturdy redhead with the muscled body of an athlete. I pictured her shushing down an alpine slope, then ravishing her tiny friend before a roaring fire. I smiled wider as I touched the tiny blonde's cheek and sucked in my breath, saying, oh, what skin! I ran my hand down the tawny redhead's flanks, moaning at the perfect curves she had concealed under her clothes. I exhorted them to hurry, come with me, so that I could see their skin glowing in this perfect light, secure in our cozy little place.
It is the wolf's job to arrive early, and so he had. The first time he sent me out, I worried that I'd ruin his plan, that I had hurried the girls into our rooms too soon, and beat him. But there he was, smiling and stirring a pitcher of drinks as we walked in. His motions were easy and slow as he introduced himself and made sure both girls were comfortable on the low couch, each sipping a drink. His special lemonade was spiked, and then some. His languid movements belied his hunger. He was ravenous, and would waste no more time. The girls got giggly, then drowsy, then drifted into a light sleep. I retrieved the drinks before they spilled, as he knelt between them, stripping off their clothes. Over his shoulder, he called out, "Check the temperature and bring in the razor and the twine."
I entered the kitchen, and placed the glasses in the sink and rinsed out the sopoforics. The wood oven took up most of the facing wall. Our flat had been an Italian bakery, and the oven was a remarkable thing. Although the opening was only two and a half feet high, its door was a good five feet wide. It was built to accommodate fifty round loaves at one time. These two young lovelies would fit just fine.
He had both girls stripped bare when I returned, and he was running expert hands over the blonde's diminutive form. She was thin, ribs not prominent, but discernible. He frowned. Her breasts were small, and firm, her nipples gently swollen. Her belly was muscled, but nearly concave. Her legs were shapely, rising from trim ankles to surprisingly generous thighs. Her hips flared out and curved around a delicately furred mound, trimmed into a tiny strip. "Shave her while I find my larding needle," he said, rising.
I enjoyed my part in this, her warm skin yielding as I tugged her mound up to bare it with a few deft flicks. First, though, I massaged foam into her tiny bit of pubic hair, nearly transparent. She moaned and shifted herself in sleep, drawing up one knee. I gently pressed her knee down, then used both hands to part her thighs. I petted her pussy, pulling it tight and gently scraping the razor over the tiny bits of fur I found. Finished, I used a warm wet cloth to wipe her clean, her sex so pink now, so bare and ready. I leaned in and stole one taste of her, parting her labia again with my fingers, lapping, licking. She moaned, louder now. Her eyes flickered, and I supposed that she was dreaming of her lover. I wondered if she pictured the svelte redhead lapping at her, even as she drowsed on our couch. Her nipples stiffened, and the little blond sighed, smiling, wetting her lips with a sudden flick of her tongue. I teased her clit, running my fingers lightly over it. Her body arched, and she muttered, "Oh, yes, baby." Startled, I reared back, fearing I'd be punished if she wakened.
He reappeared, carrying the long hollow shaft of the larding tool, and a bowl of viscous stuff. He read my expression, took my face in his hands and drew close, kissed me, sniffed at my breath and shiny face, and said, "Aw, now, don't go spoiling my dinner, girl." He cuffed me once, a light slap across my face. Her wetness made the blow sting more than it might have. I smiled to myself and watched him take control of her. He put the tools on a long wheeled cart and then scooped up the little blond. Her head lolled and her arms flopping gracelessly. He placed her on the cart and began to secure leather cuffs to her wrists, neck, and ankles. She whimpered, eyes still squeezed shut, fighting in her sleep. Her wrists were drawn up and bound to her upper arms, and then bound once again to the base of the cart, tight, reminding me of a turkey's wings. I giggled.
Her legs were folded up, knees bent and splayed far apart, and her whole body was pushed down to the edge of the cart. Her ankles were bound snug to her thighs, then, and finally, she was tied down to cart rings at either side of her narrow waist. Her body shivered, and I wondered if she imagined herself some caged animal, prepared for slaughter. Her face was clouding, she whimpered louder. He ran a hand over each bond, testing it. All this activity had jostled and upset her sleep; the drug was wearing off. Bleary eyes opened to her predicament. Her eyes widened and cleared, and her lips drew back as she twisted her head from side to side, and strained to raise up and inspect the rest of her. She cried out with no words, just an anguished confusion of disbelief. She tried to flail and kick, and found that she was completely unable. She sobbed, tears trailing down her cheeks as she stared at the thick leather cuffs, at me, and finally, at him.
As she came to her senses, every nerve screamed. He had moved between her legs and was rubbing thick oils into her smooth pussy with a practiced motion. He'd shed his pants and stood, erect and bobbing, his body wedged tight between her bound thighs. And just when she got past her shock and whispered, "What are you doing to me?" he thrust his cock hard and deep inside her pussy, grasping her bent legs for leverage. She stopped breathing, stunned for one long moment, and he paused too, watching her face, curious. Then a reedy scream tore from her throat, raw and pure. His eyes burned as he pounded his cock deeper inside her, stretching her tiny pussy wide. She sang, high and clear, warbling, few words discernible, among them, "No!" and "Please?" and "Not me?"
"Oh, yes. You." he grunted, finishing her, filling her with his hot seed and slapping her flanks in huge satisfaction as he pulled out of her and took a step back. He tipped his head sideways, cocking his chin, gesturing, "And her, too. You'll need some extra help, but she's oven ready. Prime meat, not a thing to do." He picked up the larding needle and began to fill it with globules of yellow fat and herbs. The business end of the device was about a foot long and resembled a large gauge knitting needle, hollowed out, with a push-up bar. Once filled, the hollow needle could dispense its cache into the tightest spots. He eyed the girl's sparse midsection again, her breasts, her hip bones, and nodded.
"Bite down on this, dear," he said as he forced the traditional apple into her mouth. He lofted the needle, letting her get a good look. Her face clouded in confusion, and then, as he lowered the sharp point toward her body, she wailed in sudden terrified understanding, shaking her head, anguish shining from her eyes. Her body quivered and she tried to break free. He murmured, "Shhh'" and placed one hand at the top of her breast. His other hand held the point of the larding needle resting against the bottom of her breast, dimpling it. He angled the larding needle nearly parallel to her body. He pierced her, pushing the needle in a good three inches. She tensed and screamed, the apple barely muffling her yelps. He drew the needle back as his other fingers gently pressed in the push bar, gradually dispensing rich fatty stuff into her firm breast. The flesh swelled, and a glistening drop of oil clung to the entry point as he pulled the needle completely out. Her breast was reddened, swollen, taut and hot to his touch.
The blonde's deep blue eyes were reddening, streaky with tears. She wailed. She writhed against her bonds, forcing her wrists and ankles to chafe against the sturdy cuffs. She pleaded with doe eyes and garbled tongue as he packed the larding needle full again and focused on her left breast. He got the job done in sure strokes, piercing her breast deeply, withdrawing as he pushed, the fat swelling her breast. She twisted as much as she could on the table, her pussy so completely exposed, legs tied so wide apart. Her face was a mask of pain and humiliation. She kept trying to pull her knees together, to cover up her dripping sex. Tears streamed from her, she sputtered, pleading, begging, and sobbed. Her breasts ached, overfilled, and her piercings sent a constant throbbing through her chest. She grew weaker, more acquiescent. Her eyes were duller, vacant. Dazed, shocked, she moaned softly, and waited for more. He chose four more spots, on her spare ribcage, and over her jutting hipbones, and pierced and filled the girl with rich oil. She had quieted, she accepted each new invasion with a sudden gasp, a shudder, and then watched, more fascinated than terrified, her lips parted, panting, but unable to look away.
He set down the larding needle and began to pinch her nipples, pulling them, twisting them between his thumb and forefinger. He bent down, cupping one breast, and sucking her swollen nipple into his mouth, pulling hard. She gasped. I could see her nipples respond, getting long and so hard.. She jerked as tiny shoots of electric pleasure rush through her, overpowering her fear. When he tugged hard on her nipple, drawing back his head, she tried to arch upward for more, whimpering in frustration as her bonds held her tight. He smiled, because he knew that when the meat is feeling pleasure, its taste is richer, more completed. He took time to stroke her exposed clit, petting her oil-slick pussy, pushing his thick fingers into her cunt. He watched her face slowly transform from vacant shock to wanton pleasure, her labia swelling as he played with her glistening sex.
But he knew that it was time to finish preparations and get the two girls roasting. He took up his bowl of rich fats and fragrant herbs and covered her, lavishing the rich mixture on every bit of her, stroking hard, working the oils into her skin. She purred. When he massaged her pussy for the last time, she shuddered and gasped and came in an instant, she was so over-ready for release. As she lay there, panting, he grasped a double handful of herbs and one perfect baby squash, bulbous, trimmed of its stem, and filled her wet pussy with basil and rosemary, inserting the squash in the center. She moaned as the squash pushed against the spasming walls of her pussy, filling her completely. He wheeled the girl to the kitchen and gently moved her onto the outcropped hearth. The door was closed, but flickers of fire danced in the small window centered in the door above her. So near the warmth emanating from the oven, she drifted off..
He left her and rolled the cart to the drowsy redhead, nodding on the couch. He sat down next to her and kissed her mouth, holding her head up, supporting her slack weight in his arms. She responded, whining softly, vaguely shaking her head. He scooped up the second girl, long limbed and meaty. He set her down on the cart and she canted to the side, giggling drunkenly. She coughed and smacked her lips and tried to roll over and go back to sleep. He took her wrists and bound them together in front of her. He smiled and stroked her hair. She sat, wobbling, head down, eyes closed, her shapely legs dangling over the side of the cart. She whimpered and whined, trying to move her arms. He grabbed her ankles and swung her around, placing her feet up on the cart. Her eyes fluttered open and she giggled again. She looked around at the two of us, and said, "Wow, wild party," then sank down, her back resting against the top of the cart. She drew up her bound hands and rubbed the rough twine against her nipples, giggling and moaning. She lay back, and said, "Hey, I'm your fuck bunny," then giggled and closed her eyes again, still drowsy.
He began drizzling oil over her lush body. I must have moaned aloud, because he stopped, glanced up at me, grinned, and said, "You oil her while I get her stuffed." She giggled faintly and shifted, parting her thighs. He bound her ankles as my hands worked the oils into her every curve and rise. I smiled as she responded, cooing, purring as I pressed and kneaded. When her ankles were bound tight, he pushed her legs up, knees bent, and exposed her pussy, already shaved. "How convenient," he murmured as he took the oil from me and drenched her mound, thrusting fingers into her pussy to distribute the oil. She arched and gasped, "Oh, yes!" He smiled, picked up a large knife, then began paring the purple skin from a long, fat eggplant. The redhead whimpered and squirmed on the cart. When he put down the knife, he had formed a phallus with an immense round head. He coated the fruit's firm flesh with oil, then he began rubbing her sex with the large, bulbous end, watching her arch and strain to take it in. She whimpered, begging for him to shove the enormous fruit into her. And so he did, thrusting it, mimicking a good hard fucking, forcing the thick shaft deeper with each thrust. She gasped and cried out at the girth of it, but pressed herself into his every pounding motion. He drove the thick fruit deep into her until at last only a rounded end protruded from her tightly stretched labia. He stiffened his palm and smacked his hand against it, brushing hard against her clit. As she screamed with delight, he smiled and nodded to me once again, and said, "It's time."
As he wheeled the redhead into the kitchen, she looked up at him, smiling but unsure. When she saw her blond friend, bound tight and apple-gagged, she sputtered, then made a squawk of disbelief. She giggled, but with a sharp rising pitch. She looked about ready to jump and run. Blondie had been basking in her afterglow, lulled by the warmth of the hearth. Now she gurgled around her apple, eyes urgent and tearful. Red struggled against her wrist and ankle ties, making the cart shake, but he held her down with one hand pressed against her sleek belly.
He ignored their pleadings, picked up the blond and placed her on the kitchen table. He turned to me and said, "These two will roast side by side, but joined together. Help me." Placing the blond on her left side, he had me grasp her ankles as he lifted her onto the cart. He took Red, then, and had her drape her arms around the blonde's neck and shoulders, her wrists bound tight. The two girls were pulled close, their nipples brushing together. The redhead's oiled body nestled snug between the blonde's bound legs, with her tightly stuffed pussy resting against the blonde's well filled cunt. The two began to shift and wriggle. A few loops of cook's twine were laced between the blonde's wide-stretched ankles, to secure the redhead tight between the blonde's thighs. They lay on their sides, facing each other, the redhead whispering urgent questions to the blond who shook her head and tried to say, "I don't know!"
At his signal, I pulled hard on a wooden handle, and the immense door of the oven swung upward. He wheeled the overburdened cart to face it . Heat radiated outward, singeing the tops of the girls' heads as they craned their necks to see where they had been taken.. When they saw the oven's gaping mouth, and felt its fire, they shrieked and struggled. They found themselves about to enter a glowing red cavern, head first, and fully aware. The girls screamed, hoarse cries parched in the wall of hot air, cooking their lungs even as they sucked in air to scream again. Their eyes were wide, looking everywhere, frantic to spy some way out. There was none. Using a gigantic baker's paddle, we had already begun to push the girls inside. We used gentle steady pressure, letting their oil-slick bodies slide over the well-seasoned oven floor, the stones hissing as the girls were accepted into the oven's gold-red depths. They were backlit in fire and glowed. Their screams became muffled by the iron door as we pushed in their feet, lowered the door, and let them roast.
We watched them through the tempered window as they struggled and sobbed. Tears sizzled down their cheeks, steaming and hissing on the fiercely hot stone. Their flanks glistened, and beads of moisture quickly covered their hips, slipping down. Their eyes blinked and widened, their faces reflected fire and agony. I watched the red head's face as she felt her skin begin to swell and hiss. She shook and trembled in disbelief. The blond pressed tight against Red, her swollen breasts leaking, basting them both with a rich broth. Time passed, as we listened to their weakening moans, and their own juices sizzling. Their faces began to change. Fearful eyes and grimaces gave way to gently parted lips. The apple slipped. Their lips melded in a hot, sealing kiss. The fire had worked some alchemical magic, granting them one last respite. As their flesh seared and browned, as their juices bubbled up, and their meat firmed, they moved together, wriggling the small amount their bonds would allow. It was enough. They pressed their slicked, stuffed sexes together and the juices poured down, drenching each other's sizzling form. As the heat transformed them, they kindled one last moment of ecstasy. We watched them shudder together and then grow still. He smiled, and kneaded the muscles in my arm and said, "Satisfy the meat, it satisfies the man."
by hisdinner