Posted by hisdinner on April 29, 2002 at 20:51:31:
A Summer Spitting by hisdinner
I was so well-schooled in his tastes, that by July 4th weekend, he sent me out alone to choose his next sweetmeat. I was his bird dog now. We'd moved up to his mountain cabin, about a mile from a resort village. He brought his barbecue equipment out of winter storage and began to polish and sharpen it as I drove down the switch-back road to fetch a girl. As I pulled away, he swung a heavy mallet, retamping the side supports of the crude rotisserie. Before I'd left, he'd gripped the tag attached to my labia and reminded me with one sharp tug to find a girl juicy enough to withstand a spitting.
By late Friday afternoon the lodge and all the B&Bs were filled with tourists from the city. Only the less knowledgeable girls would still be searching for a room. It took me less than five minutes to spot several likely candidates perusing the messages on the kiosk near the coffeehouse. I maneuvered my way between a pair of lovelies and asked, "Anyone looking for a place for the weekend? Our scheduled guests just phoned to cancel, and I was about to put up an ad." I drew out two colorful brochures.
Both girls nodded, and as they read through our little fiction, I sized them up. Really, it was quick work. The brunette was spare, pale and anemic, nearly cadaverous in her attempt at Goth chic. The blonde was slim, but her hips were gently rounded, and her ass curved high over deliciously muscled legs. She carried her generous breasts proudly above a narrow waist. I smiled at her and asked, "Are you two together? We have room for only one or two. Any more and we'd be overstuffed."
The blond shook her head and touched my arm, giving me her full-wattage grin, and winked and grinned at the dark-haired girl, saying, "No. But, I wouldn't mind sharing!" The brunette flushed, muttered, "You sickos," then scooted away from us, and that was that. Blonde Amy smiled at me and followed me to the car. I enjoyed watching her as she slung a heavy bag into the trunk. Her breasts strained against the crop top she wore over a bikini, and her sarong parted to reveal a barely covered pink mound. We drove to the cabin, all girl talk and giggling about the weekend's festivities. She had her agenda well-planned: Dinner at Mel's, drinks on the terrace, and dancing under the fireworks. I smiled and said, "What about a nice Jacuzzi and massage first?"
She nodded, then cooed in delight as we pulled into a sheltered lane and reached our cabin. He'd laid on a fire, and wood smoke shifted in the breeze, drawing us both out back. She turned around in circles, admiring the secluded yard, the pool, the barbecue area. The Jacuzzi was mounted high on a redwood platform, giving guests a glimpse of the ski runs. He grinned at me, and nodded, then asked our guest, "How about a drink while you enjoy the tub? Clothing is optional."
He made his way up the slope for the drinks as Amy eyed the bubbling spa. As soon as he'd entered the cabin, she gave a little squeal and tore off her clothes and leapt up the stairs and into the pool. She gasped as she sank into the aromatic water. Her full, round breasts bobbed just beneath the surface, peeking out each time she shifted to take in a different view. "What is in this water? she asked, "It reminds me of my mother's kitchen!" She giggled and accepted a drink.
He nodded and took a seat on the deck, telling her about the soothing powers of herbs and oils. He said, "I've prepared a very special blend for your skin." I sat close to her, and as he began to pet me, I began to pet her, and we sipped drinks not nearly as stiff as hers. She got a goofy grin on her face and sat up higher, showing off her splendid tits. I smiled and caressed them, tugging at one nipple, then at the other as she smiled and moaned and sucked down her cocktail. He watched, amused, as the drink took hold of her and she began to slip, giggling and nodding off, while I held her head above the water's surface. He strode in to the cabin for his tools, saying, "Ten minutes more in the herbal bath, then we'll take her to the prep table."
In ten minutes I'd worked myself into quite a frenzy. I'd slipped off my clothes and slid into the pool, straddling her limp body, sucking her nipples hard into my mouth as I undulated against her. I took one of her hands and used it to stroke my clit. I used her mouth shamelessly, sucking in her lips, pressing her face into my breast, pushing hard enough to let her teeth graze my skin. Her skin had got all pink and soft, and she moaned and bucked just enough to make me scream and shudder before he yanked me off her and pulled her out. I couldn't help grinning, even as he smacked me hard across my cheek. I helped him carry the dripping girl closer to the fire pit. We hoisted her up onto a wide plank table. He brushed the hair from her face and ran his hands hard down her body, crushing her pillowy breasts beneath his large hands. "Good, all natural," he noted as he continued his inspection, squeezing and testing her belly, her mons, gripping her upper arm, and using both hands to gauge the meatiness of her thighs and ass.
I drizzled heavy oil into my palm and began at her toes, coating every bit of her smooth, long legs. She whimpered a bit when I let the oil drip into her pussy. I was about to dip my fingers into her, when he gripped my wrists and said, "See to the catch pan over there." I pouted as I crossed to shed, hauled out a long, deep trough and carried it up the hill. He was fucking her, gripping her hips and thrusting long and hard inside her. She'd started to buck and moan against him, still woozy, but on fire from his attention. I grinned and watched a bit longer, then I took the trough and placed it beneath the framework of the cleaning area. This frame held the long metal spit that would soon fill her. It rested here, just a short distance from the heat of fire pit, itself.. The spit was set onto Y-shaped supports with clamps to lock it into place. About five feet below the spit lay the trough, ready for her next stage of preparation.
Some say that agony improves the flavor of the meat. Others want a quick kill. We were always happy to experiment. We used each sweet young body to improve our knowledge of the taste of girlflesh. This time, she'd be spitted, then gutted and washed and stuffed and roasted in a smoky cedar and mesquite blend. I thought he'd hit on the perfect combination. Three parts agony with one part sweet delight, though some had wriggled on the spit and moaned with undeniable bliss. This one? We'd see. I looked over and watched him as he forced her legs wide apart and jammed his cock hard inside her glistening pussy. She jerked and cried out as he fucked her. I approached them, unable to resist encircling his shaft with my fingers where it entered her. His cock plunged into her oiled pussy and I watched her come as his shaft pounded hard through my grip and deep inside her. She'd be well imbued with the chemistry of release. I smiled as he grunted hard and finished her. He went to get the spit, and to distract her, I asked her to kneel for some special attention.
As she rose up to kneel, I slipped a wedge of wood under her belly. The wood's top surface slanted so that as she rested her belly on the block, her ass would be pushed up, with her head and breasts dangling lower. She giggled as I stroked and gently positioned her arms in leather cuffs on either side, attached to iron rings bolted to the table. I whispered about how gorgeous her round tight ass looked, and then I bit it, just lightly. She wriggled and moaned for more. He approached with the spit just as I finished securing her ankles on either side of a spreader bar, then fastened them to rings in the table. I surrounded her narrow waist with one last strap, determined to keep her in place for her impalement.
He carried an eight foot length of polished metal, almost three inches in diameter, and sharpened to a fine point. She was unable to see the stake, which disappointed me. He nodded, and I moved to her side. My job was to give her continuous pleasure as he pierced her with the spike and slowly impaled her luscious body. I knelt beside her on the wide plank table with one hand on her breasts, brushing them, flicking her nipples. She shuddered and spoke to me, promising to tell all her friends about our special treatment. She gasped and smiled as my other hand began to stroke her clit in slow, circling motions. I was transfixed as he parted her labia with the oiled tip of the spit. The steel point grazed her velvet skin and she giggled a bit, wriggling. He slowly swiveled and inserted the pointed spear. Her body jerked hard and her eyes flew open as the cold metal entered her. "Oh, ak!" she cried. I leaned forward and turned her head toward mine and kissed her. "Sh, Amy," I said, "Just enjoy the ride." Amy smiled and let out one high pitched "Ooo!"
He slid the spit in deeper, playfully now, in and out, thrusting and then retreating, watching her pussy swell and glisten. She panted while we fucked her, my fingers teasing her clit as he stroked her. She begged for more, whimpering and wheedling. He finally pushed the heavy spit deeper in. She squealed as the spit met its first resistance. He pierced her cervix, then plunged inside her womb. She cried out as he impaled her, the pole's girth stretching her tight as her body instinctively tensed against the sharpened tip, offering a better path for the piercing point. I felt her shudders and watched as she began to press herself hard against the pole, helping to drive it deep inside her. She was remarkable! We exchanged looks of surprised admiration for this girl. With each centimeter of progress, her body grew more flushed and aroused, her nipples hard, her pussy dripping sweet juice. She shuddered and sobbed, but never stopped demanding more and more and more.
He swiveled and maneuvered the heavy shaft through her, slowly. Her cries became an indecipherable mix of pain and urgent need, and ecstasy. She shuddered hard as he passed the spit between her lungs. When I felt the spit at her breastbone, I got my hands around her face and steadied her so that the shaft could emerge from her lips. I kissed her hard, covering her mouth with mine as I felt her twitch and jerk, gasping as the metal shaft filled her throat. She responded eagerly, crushing her lips to mine, pleading incoherently. I pulled away reluctantly as the tip of the spit entered the back of her mouth, and watched as he gently pushed it through her parted lips. Her eyes were wide and glazed. She seemed to be riding the most intense orgasm of her life. Spasms rippled through her as the shaft emerged, forcing her head back. He gave it one final thrust, and now two feet of steel protruded from her tightly stretched lips.
She was magnificent. We stood back and took in the sight of her. She was trembling, and even now trying to move herself against the shaft. We shook our heads, wondering if she'd find the next phase as exciting. I took her arms and bound her wrists behind her. We released her ankles from the spreader and bound them to the spit, then we lifted her and carried her on the slippery pole to the waiting Y-supports which flanked the cleaning area. A short walk away, the fire pit glowed orange and blue white, nearly ready. We'd have to toss on a few more wood chips during her roasting.
We suspended her and clamped the spit in place, suspending her with her belly down. I stroked her as she gazed below her, watching her face as he turned and selected a fine blade. Her eyes widened as he approached her, turning the knife to catch the glint from the fire, letting her see her fate in the knife's reflective surfaces. A hoarse, gurgling sound emerged from her mouth. I felt shudders pass through her thighs and belly as she attempted to writhe and somehow get away. He placed his hands on her rounded belly, stroking her and feeling for the right spot. He wanted to take her slippery secret flesh out slowly, to allow her to revel in the tug and pull of each slick organ, each foot of entrails. He wanted her to enjoy it as much as we would.
He found a spot in her lower belly, and, holding his other hand splayed, he pulled her skin taut, then he pierced her skin. He'd perfected his technique, leaving her entrails whole and unpierced, but making a pathway in. I came close to see the small slit, blood welling and dripping into the catch pan below. I reached out to trace my finger around the lips of the wound, as he used gentle fingers to reach inside her. She shuddered when his fingers intruded, but then she pressed into his invasion. She moaned around the spit, whimpering, begging. He smiled and teased out a loop of her slippery intestines, gently tugging it and letting her feel the thin connective tissues separate, releasing the coils, letting them slip outside her. She shivered and seemed to want more. He pulled and tugged, pausing each time she jerked or shuddered, timing his tugs to her reactions, feeding the slippery stuff into the catch pan. Each time she moaned and bucked, he increased the tempo of his tugging. A huge shudder passed through her as he used his free hand to massage her belly. The large lobes pressed and stretched her wound, then slipped through as she gasped around the spit. She seemed to arch into each organ's release, as if birthing. She screamed in sharp delight as he finally reached inside to cut the last bits free, and they slipped through her belly's red mouth and into the pan below.
I came forward again, my body aching to be so well used, but he was all business. "Flush her out and then you can stuff her," he said, wiping his hands. I used a carrot-shaped nozzle on the end of my hose, and wriggled my hand inside the slit in her belly. She was so empty now, so light, her moans faint and drowsy. The water revived her, sluicing through her, as the spit held her steady. As soon as she was cleaned, I turned and scooped up handfuls of glorious cornbread stuffing, full of herbs and butter, his secret recipe perfected on a dozen girls, at least. I pressed handfuls of the moist bread crumb mixture deep into her belly, filling her again. She moaned thanks, her body trembling as each handful found its place. My body throbbed, aching for attention as I thrust another handful of the stuffing snug around the spit, into her pussy. I hoped it would swell inside her as she cooked, pressing her hard against the spit for one more rush of pleasure.
He finished her preparation by sewing her belly shut. He pierced her flesh with a large gauge needle, pulling the coarse cook's twine through each puncture, lacing her slit tight. Each time he pressed the needle against her flesh, she moaned, then gave a high-pitched shriek as the needle poked through. He oiled her again, massaging the fullness of her belly, drizzling extra portions of oil onto her tender toes. We stepped back once more to inspect her. So beautiful. Her breasts were dangling, round and juicy, her rounded belly glistening, the spit protruding from her swollen pussy and her mouth. Her eyes shone with some other-worldly light, as if she were privy to secret delights beyond our imaginations. We released the poles, hefted the stuffed girl and carried her to the fire pit. Now, she would become meat. Now she would sizzle and turn, her body slowly turning golden. Her eyes would glaze, her skin would darken. Her meaty thighs and calves would bead with her juices, rolling down to drip from her knees into the fire. Her breasts would steam and swell and her nipples would begin to crisp as we basted her. Her belly would grow even rounder, filled with rich stuffing, flavored by her sweetness and our desires.
We had a late supper on the deck. The glow from the fire pit faded to gray as the fireworks began. Each burst illuminated the succulent girlroast gracing our table. Brilliant red and white flares lit the sky. The lights danced across our dinner, off her high, rounded breasts, swelled with juices, golden. Her belly glowed bronze, so round and high and steaming. Sparkling streaks of green fire cascaded in the night sky as he sank a long-tined fork into her thigh meat. As he sliced through the crisped skin, I moaned at the intense aroma rising on a gentle wind. I stared at that deep sliced V, watching the juice run hot and clear. I longed to see him slit her belly open and let the stuffing burst over her delicate mons. He caught my attention, smiling as he placed the tip of that blade just under my chin, and said, "Well done, girl." He winked and let the knife point at my neck draw just one drop of blood. "You'll still roast for me. But not just yet."
by hisdinner