Posted by Menagerie on September 05, 2004 at 12:52:28:
SUBUR-B-Q
“Time for the guest of honor,” I announced, and everybody laughed as Melissa was dragged out of the house to the makeshift guillotine. She was haggard; the usually cheerful, plump housewife had been stripped naked and kept locked for the last two days in a stocks, where she had been repeatedly raped and tortured. Her short, brown hair was askew; her bare feet stumbled as two men hauled her to the cruel device of death and pushed her to her knees. Her hands were tied behind her; she looked up at me in terror, tears damp on her cheeks, gurgling through her gag. “Hi, Melissa,” I winked, as the guys locked her head into the guillotine.
When her husband gave us the go ahead to use Melissa for the block party barbecue, I could hardly wait. Mid-thirties, carrying about twenty extra pounds, plump, juicy thighs, a meaty, full back, round, soft shoulders…she was the most luscious meat animal I’d seen in a while. She’d wave, smiling, from across the street; sometimes she’d sunbathe on the lawn, the two-piece suit barely containing her ripe flesh, squeezing above and below the thin fabric. I’d lick my chops as she dozed peacefully on an old blanket, her pink skin bronzing in the sun. She knew she was showing off; if only she knew she was displaying meat to a butcher…!
In the middle of the day, I’d watch as the late-model BMW pulled up her driveway, and the garage door would slowly rise. That was the boyfriend, and the husband knew it. He just let it go on until we were planning the party; we all grinned, smacked our lips, and thought about Melissa’s gutted, headless carcass on the spit.
She was easy prey. Her husband told her he was leaving for the weekend on business; then, Friday night, he called to announce he had to return, would be home within the hour. So she shooed away the boyfriend, turned out the lights and waited in bed—just where I wanted her when four of us barged into her room.
Her nylon nightie was quickly shredded; I saw those big, plump tits burst out, ready to be squeezed like a couple of fat melons. Melissa was totally nude, her wrists bound to the bed, as I fumbled with my belt. She glared at me over the gag, her meaty, luscious legs twisting against the sheets as she strained to break free. I pulled those thick thighs apart, held them with my knees as I rammed into her gaping twat. My face was right in front of hers; I savored her tears, and the “mmph, mmph!” sounds of protest through the gag. “If you’re waiting for Dennis,” I told her, our eyes locked as I humped against her fleshy, naked body, “he isn’t coming. Until the end.”
That bit of cruelty turned Melissa into a whimpering, soft plaything. We took turns plunging into her sweet, juicy pussy; she stopped struggling and lay limp, moaning through the cloth gag, snot on her lip and eyes dimmed and half-closed, as one guy after another bounced up and down on her. Then came a little pummeling; my next door neighbor held her up in a Nelson, and I sunk a right cross into her belly, feeling the soft flesh give way—her pee splattered on the rug as she shrieked into the gag. A few more of those, and she was bawling like a baby. We led her into the john so she could retch and throw up into the toilet; then, the gag repositioned and her hands bound behind her back, we marched her across the street in the dead of night, to a special room I’d prepared for her.
Once I’d clamped down the headboard on the stocks, I spread Melissa’s feet and strapped them to the legs. “This is your home for a while,” I informed her, and ripped off the gag. “Please,” said the chubby housewife tearfully, “please…let me go. I’ll do anything…”
That she would; in a moment, Melissa’s sweet mouth was filled with cock. As she desperately sucked and licked, the guy down the street dropped his drawers and rammed her from behind. Nude, sweating in the hot, little room, squirming with two guys in her—that’s where the little hussy belonged. I gazed fondly on her full, meaty back, little love handles on either side, jiggling as the guy humped her, and grinned as I thought about carving her roasted meat from the bone. Oblivious, her teary eyes half-closed, Melissa kept using her mouth and tongue on my organ, murmuring as the other guy slid into and out of her moist snatch.
Melissa was very entertaining. I got a board, complete with rough edges and slivers, and hammered at her porcine rump with it; she screamed in pain, her pudgy little feet hot-stepping each time the impromptu paddle found its mark. Soon her ass was red and scored with cuts; a handful of salt, I decided, would make a fine salve. She hooted in pain as the stinging crystals dug into the shredded meat; her eyes and fists clenched, the little whore howled and begged me to stop. Sure, I told her; open wide…eyes shut, tears dribbling down her cheeks, Melissa again suckled my cock, steeled herself for another belly full of cum.
You can only cum so often; while I was readying for our next encounter, I’d amuse myself by violating Melissa with a broom handle. She sobbed and begged for mercy as the wood invaded her body. Meanwhile, the miniature guillotine had been built, a heavy, fearsome blade teetering against a latch, a collar waiting for Melissa’s pretty neck. Soon, I thought fondly, the nude, meaty suburban housewife, now screaming in protest and straining against her bonds, would be headless, gutted and turning slowly over a fire…
The day had finally arrived; Dennis had requested a videotape, and the camera trained on the unkempt, naked mom as she plodded to her doom. She was pushed down onto a short, narrow plywood bench on her belly, straddling it on her knees, with her invited derriere spread, the cheeks depressed against the wood. I locked her neck into the brace; Melissa stared straight ahead, gulping for air and tears running down her face, and undoubtedly hoping her torture would soon end…but with her thick, juicy legs spread wide, there was plenty of room for a few final fucks.
The guys in the neighborhood lined up to take Melissa from behind one last time. She drooled and mewled into her gag, rocking on the board as one guy after another mounted her from behind. I was last, but didn’t mind; as I welled up and spewed into Melissa’s sloppy cunt, I reached up and tripped the latch. Her tender thighs spasmed and flexed, then went limp; the guys laughed as her blood poured free, her head laying neatly in a basket, eyes wide, frozen in terror.
A couple of the guys were veteran sportsmen, and they hung Melissa’s carcass upside-down from a backyard oak and split her open. The little cunt was totally field dressed, her guts tossed in a bushel basket, her little, fluffy dog delightedly sniffing around the organs before greedily devouring his fill.
The coals in Dennis’ full-sized backyard barbecue pit were ready for his cheating wife, and while one of the hunters held Melissa’s tender frame, the other plunged the steel pole between her buttocks and through her abdominal cavity. It exited her neck, and they untied her from the tree, securely bound her arms and legs to the pole, and hoisted the meat to the fire. The pole was locked into place, and with a flick of a switch, the meaty housewife began rotating over the fire.
We had to close the vents; Melissa was so juicy, her fat stoked the fire, dripping with a hiss on the coals. We seasoned her generously, the salt and spices sticking to her browning, crisping skin; later, we lathered her up with a tangy sauce. Her head was in a basket surrounded by flowers from her garden, and we laughed as I poked a fork in her heavy thigh and the juices bubbled out.
As Dennis arrived, we had just slid the tramp off her pole and into a large, steel carving pan. We let him do the honors, paring slices from her back and legs and heaping them onto her favorite stoneware platters. A couple of guys wanted those big, juicy jugs, and Dennis gleefully chopped off Melissa’s teats and served them up. By the time we were done devouring the little hussy, there wasn’t much left of Melissa but bones and scraps—to the delight of the dog. She must not have fed him enough.