Belinda 03: Belinda's Dairy and Muffin Ranch by Leo

Belinda’s Dairy and Muffin Ranch

by

Leo

Sharon reflected that the late South Florida day was just perfect, not to mention the prospect of a fine dinner with good company. From the patio, she could overlook both Belinda’s small private beach and the public beach on the other side of the northern bluff, as well as the ocean in the distance on three sides, and took a moment to enjoy the view of the other three women on the patio. Terri and Marlo were in happy - if muffin goofy - conversation by the pool and Belinda was tending the steaks over the big grill.

The women were all worth the look since they were as nude as she was. Belinda, a fortyish short haired blonde, had the spectacular figure of a magazine model half her age. The two spit muffins, dirty blonde, short-haired Terri and Marlo with her long light brown hair, were thirtysomething, with full, firm figures and large breasts. Of course, Sharon thought complacently, their breasts weren’t quite the size of hers, but they were currently on the menu and she wasn’t at the moment. Thankfully.

Belinda’s habitually energetic movements caught her eye again, not so much for her motions, but because they set every luscious curve of her ripe bare body to wiggling or jiggling or both. Just by walking - and Belinda didn’t just walk, she bustled - she could excite Sharon or anyone else with eyes. The energetic motions matched her personality, too. Belinda was the highly active, dotty sort of person that made anyone think of a favorite, if not quite fully grounded, aunt.

A flash of the little tuft of hair on Belinda’s otherwise smooth pubis reminded Sharon that, as meat girls, she and the two muffins had totally hairless pussies. That wasn’t so bad, she thought to herself as she began once again to study Marlo and Terri. She and the two muffins were rated as menu material, true, but her long standing relationship with Belinda - attributable to the fact that she gave plenty of milk, courtesy of Belinda’s hormone recipe - had sort of eased her into “companion” status, provisionally as safe as any edible female could be around that slightly goofy, if cannibalistic and highly intelligent, woman.

Sharon then took a second to study Terri and Marlo. While not in Belinda’s class, they were quite nice all on their own. The fact that both were basically pussy filets on the hoof was quite appealing. On the other hand, they both suffered a serious case of screw loose. The two were dedicated spit muffins - enthusiastic advocates of having themselves made into juicy entrees - not one of Sharon’s core beliefs. The good part was that they were quite tasty looking and fun in bed, once they got the idea of girl-girl sex. The bad part was that both women were constantly gushing about when, where, and how they wanted to be cooked, something trying to Sharon’s pragmatic and survival minded personality. Oh well, Sharon thought with a mental sigh, it wasn’t as though they were real problems. They just wanted to bend over and spread every time they saw a spit.

Sharon stretched and decided to just lay back in her pool chair and relax. Belinda was busy and the Nuts were occupied in a conversation. Time for a little happy loafing before what promised to be a good dinner. She’d really wanted a piece of Alice’s plush ass, and Belinda had saved some steaks especially for them.

No such luck. Noticing a pause in the conversational background, Sharon cast an eye nut-ward and found both of them advancing on her with a purpose. She’d been the girls’ caretaker while they hid out from Belinda’s family reunion over at Lorna Paten’s place and now the two had adopted her as den mother. Heaving a martyred sigh, Sharon sat up to await whatever thought had surfaced in what passed for Terri and Marlo’s brains this time.

“Sharon,” Terri asked after they’d formed up in front of her, “Belinda said she wanted to cook me day after tomorrow as the first barbecue when the rest of the girls arrive. I’ve really been working on building up muscle tone and mass, so do you think the new girls will like my butt?”

For Terri, this was a perfectly normal question.

She turned around, presenting Sharon with a beautifully formed full butt, with a deep center split and two sharply defined under-creases, indicating that her buttocks stood out enough from her body to be quite meaty. Courteously, Sharon reached out and squeezed the soft bare flesh of an offered cheek gently. “Well,” she said, “I’ve checked you enough to know all of your meat is good. Frankly, I’d say you have a superbly roastable ass that ought to carve like butter.”

Sharon rolled her eyes as the two muffins squealed and hugged each other with delight. The assessment was true, but she knew full well the girl wanted to hear it. With a wry smile, Sharon pulled Terri’s hips closer, then insinuated a finger into the deepest part between her plump buns to rub against the woman’s little bottom hole. “You’ve been working on loosening this up, too. I’d say you were ready for a spit.” Sharon figured she ought to know, since she and a strap-on had helped the loosening up process along often enough, but the comment would help keep the woman happy and excited.

Yep. More squeals and hugs. Marlo even looked like she’d like the same treatment. Of course, Marlo was nursing a serious anal thing. Actually, judging from the tiny droplets of milk forming at the tips of their nipples, both women were highly excited and ready for a little sex. Maybe after dinner.

“Come to the table, ladies,” Belinda called in a musical voice. “I just know you’ll enjoy these steaks. Alice simply melted in everyone’s mouth at the reunion.”

“And clean off your nipples before you come to dinner,” Sharon added. “Enough time for fun and games later.” A quick, grinning exchange of tongue swipes between muffins took care of the problem.

As Sharon carved a piece from the succulent and juicy steak on her plate, she asked Belinda, “I know your family, Belinda. I didn’t figure there’d be any leftovers at all, let alone four nice steaks. Alice was big, sure. I’ve never met a girl that had more meat on her and still had such a nicely shaped figure, but she surely couldn’t have fed all your gang with this kind of cut left over. How’d you do it?”

“Oh,” Belinda chirped with a cheery smile, “there’s really no mystery. My brother and Leigh, my niece, each brought really tasty young ladies. Since there was so much to go around, it was no trouble to save some nice cuts for you and the girls. I caught another nice bitch during the reunion, too. I’ve got enough of her in the cooler to feed the new girls when they arrive tomorrow.”

Belinda hunted girls for their meat, usually by seducing them off the public beach, but girls of a very specific type. She was using the word bitch in a literal fashion, since she described herself as cleansing the gene pool by eliminating the arrogant, nasty type of woman nobody could stand. As she said, “If you cook a nice girl, everyone will miss her, and there’ll be no end of bother. Nobody cares if an obnoxious bitch goes missing. If anything, they’re relieved.” Only too true, Sharon thought with another bite of Alice’s tender rump meat.

“That reminds me,” Belinda continued. “Terri, don’t forget to start fasting tonight. I want you nice and clean when we cook you for the big barbecue Wednesday.”

“I will, but you are going to give me an enema, aren’t you Belinda?” Terri replied with a slight look of disappointment. “I really enjoy them.” Both Terri and Marlo had gotten used to taking deep colonic enemas before riding a roleplay spit, which they did regularly with a great deal of enjoyment, especially Marlo. Cleanest colons in town.

“Of course we will, love. I wouldn’t want to disappoint you,” Belinda replied with a warm affectionate smile. Sharon just snorted. How anyone could enjoy having three feet of two inch thick hose shoved up her ass was beyond rational understanding, but she’d already decided Terri and Marlo were a few bricks shy of a load.

Which brought up another point. “Belinda,” Sharon asked, “how many new girls are we getting?” The thought of the soon to arrive gaggle of Terri and Marlo style muffins was enough to give her a case of the shudders.

Belinda turned the force of her warm smile on Sharon, by way of softening the blow. She knew exactly what her companion was thinking. “All ten I promised, dear,” she said softly. “And I just know you’ll love them. I was very selective in my interviews.”

“Ten?” Sharon squeaked, valiantly forcing herself not to grimace. Or panic.

“Ten.”

It all went back to the arrival of the more-or-less Spit Muffin Cult on Belinda’s private beach. Terri, Marlo and Alice, enthusiastic spit muffins all, were brought there by their leader, Cici, for the purpose of cooking the delectably plump Alice over the coals. Instead, Belinda had preempted the entire group and ended up roasting Cici soon thereafter, to forestall a one woman riot by an overtaxed Sharon, a Sharon who’d finally had all she could stand of Cici’s constant, and intelligently premeditated, urgings for her to willingly become the next roaster. Alice was immediately reserved for the main meal at Belinda’s upcoming family reunion. Then, Belinda decided the two remaining (large breasted) muffins could be given the same hormone treatment as Sharon and become milking girls, since there was quite a market for women’s milk. Then, after the previous then, Belinda announced that there were more muffins like Terri and Marlo out there and Marlo knew how to get in touch with them as a result of Cici’s cult activity. She wanted to start with a group of ten, if she could get them. Unfortunately, Sharon thought, she could.

Another Dotty Belinda Plan to Drive Sharon Absolutely Bongo swung into action.

Belinda’s previously pleasantly relaxed cannibalistic home was about to become the site of a combination dairy and meat ranch. As she said, all of the girls wanted the ultimate thrill of becoming dinner and deserved to have that thrill satisfied, while selected (read: big boobed) ones provided milk as they waited their turn. Belinda figured they could cook a girl to provide enough meat for the group every five or six days and still replace the losses indefinitely. Meanwhile the milk would provide a steady flow (no pun intended - or maybe there was) of income. Belinda’s careful interviews in a Miami office eliminated the unsatisfactory ones, while the first women that made the cut would be brought to the house by van tomorrow. More would follow as needed.

All ten of them. Ten chattering, eager-to-be-fried spit muffins. Ten chattering, eager-to-be-fried, taxing-to-the-intelligence-of-a-normal-woman-like-Sharon spit muffins.

Whoopee.

The descent into Mass Muffin Induced Insanity began the next day at mid morning. A chauffeured carryall with ten female passengers pulled up to the front of the house, to be met by a barely dressed Belinda as host. The passengers were directed into the spare guest room off the front hall while Belinda paid off the driver.

Inside the bedroom, Sharon greeted a group suddenly wide eyed at their first, surprising look at her glorious, full fleshed nudity. “All right, ladies,” Sharon announced, “I want you all dressed like me. Birthday suits are the dress code in this house. Keep your jewelry, but lose the duds. You can leave your clothes and bags here, then Belinda wants to talk to you.” The bags were small overnighters, containing the personal items each woman felt necessary for her stay at the house prior to an appointment in the kitchen.

A pile of clothing quickly built up on the bed as the expanse of visible woman flesh kept growing. “Damn, I’m glad I don’t ever have to wear those again,” one woman commented as she threw a pair of panty hose on the pile. Others joked and played around, occasionally grabbing each other’s exposed, fleshy parts. On the whole, Sharon decided, they were an excellent selection for bed and breakfast, both of which she intended to sample with each one.

As the naked women began to filter from the room, Sharon noticed one curvy twenty-something pseudo blonde looking uncomfortable as she stood there in panties and bra. Walking over to her, she asked the girl, “What’s the matter, honey? You look like something’s wrong.”

The girl shook her head uncomfortably, still nervously fondling her underwear. “Oh… oh… nothing’s really wrong. It’s me. I’ve never seen this many naked women in one place. They all look so beautiful, and I guess I don’t want to show my big butt in such nice looking company.”

Sharon chuckled at the girl’s shyness. “Honey, in this group, a big butt - and yours really isn’t that big - is a real mark of distinction. It just makes you more desirable for the carving platter if you have a good, meaty ass. So don’t worry, lose the flimsies. You don’t expect us to roast you in a cute little bra and panties set, do you? From here on in, you’re a walking dinner, just like in your fantasies. Here, I’ll help you.”

“Let me help, too,” came a voice from the doorway. It was an older woman, mid thirties, with a curvy, fleshy body and good sized breasts. “I met her on the van and we hit it off.

“Want me to get rid of that bra, Monica?” she asked softly. When the girl nodded, she stood in front of her and reached around to unsnap the bra, pushing her tits into the girl’s as she threw the garment on the bed. A quick, deep kiss followed.

Meanwhile, Sharon was on her knees in back of the girl, gently pulling down her lace panties. This bared the girl’s nicely shaped full bottom right at eye level, and Sharon took a mouthful, chewing gently for a moment while its owner was busy with the older woman. “Ummm,” she finally said. “Wonderful muscle tone. These beauties will make a great meat platter. Don’t worry, Monica, your ass will be a prime attraction.”

Rising back to her feet, Sharon continued, “Well, that’s for the near future. You ladies get out there with the rest of the girls. Don’t keep Belinda waiting.” Parting slaps on two plump bare rear ends sent the pair on their way.

Wandering into the living room a few moments later, Sharon saw the full group of new Let’s-Roast-Me nuts seated and attentively regarding Belinda (and Belinda’s fantastic nude body), standing in the front of the room. From her vantage point, Sharon was able to get a good view of the new girls and took a few pleasant moments to study the menu. The women ranged in age from the early twenties to middle thirties and all were highly attractive. A few had photographer’s model grade figures, but most were just slightly heftier, as befitted planned meals. There were even a pair of nicely curved twins. Faux blonde, of course, but who’d be able to tell after they lost their pubic hair? A little more than half were full breasted, VERY full breasted in some cases, but none were below average in the milk jug department. That was essential if the dairy was going to get off to a solid start. Beyond that, all of them had excellent thighs and full hips with great meat potential.

Quite a tasty looking bunch. Sharon began speculating what several individuals would taste like live, then later on the platter. She finally decided Belinda’s crazy idea had at least some compensations.

“Hello, ladies,” Belinda began. “We’ve all met before in interviews, but this is the first time we’ve all been together. Let me introduce you to everyone.”

She pointed at Sharon. “That’s Sharon, my companion. She will be in charge of you when I’m not around, and she’ll be handling any number of things, from overseeing the milking to helping evaluate which one of you gets cooked next.” Speculative looks in Sharon’s direction, not a few of which included obvious thoughts of how to influence the choice of the next pussy for the platter.

“Next,” Belinda indicated Marlo, “we have Marlo. She’s on the menu just like you and you have her to thank for being here.” To Sharon’s astounded disgust, the ten new crackpots applauded. Marlo beamed, blushed and bowed her thanks.

“Finally, I want you to meet a special person.” Placing her arm around Terri’s shoulders, she gave the woman a quick squeeze. “Terri is going to be your dinner tomorrow night.”

From the gaggle, a slim arm shot into the air, the hand in a fist. “YES!” came a cheerleader cry. “Let’s get the grill started!”

Sharon rolled her eyes skyward as the entire group laughed and cheered. For heaven’s sake, even Terri was laughing and cheering!

After order had been restored, Belinda said, “Of course, ladies, you will all join her in due time.” More clapping, laughing and cheering. Sharon just shook her head.

“Now,” Belinda resumed in her brisk, businesslike tones, “there are a number of things we have to do before any of you can aspire to a cooking spit. First, take the little chains Marlo is handing out. That pretty little metal pendant has your name engraved on it, so look for it. That will do until we all get to know each other better. Then you must all have your body hair removed, a task to which I and the other three of us will attend. No shavers, ladies. We use a depilatory cream which is very pleasant. Next, those of you I designate as milk girls need to have your first treatment. You’ll start giving milk several days later, as Sharon, Terri and Marlo already do. Please make sure to watch tomorrow’s milking, since it will be quite instructive.

“Those of you not chosen as milk girls will be milk maids,” Belinda added with a smile, “so don’t feel left out. You’ll be doing the milking chores, dear ones, and, let me tell you, hand milking a woman is highly enjoyable. I’m sure all of you will want to try it, even if it’s not your designated job.

“Finally, I simply have to add that you are all welcome here and I want to make your stay a pleasant one. There are all manner of sex toys and stimulation devices available for your use whenever you want. I encourage sex whenever possible, since it helps add flavor to your meat. Sharon and Marlo will be available to show you how to use the various cooking devices in the kitchen and on the patio as role play. Everyone here will ride a two part spit, for instance, and the orgasms from the experience are intense. ” Brief interruption for muffins to ooh and aah. “In fact, you should consider role play orgasms as preparation for your date with the kitchen.” Sharon sighed at that one. The foregoing has been an endorsement from the House. “Other than that, ladies,” Belinda concluded, I want all of you to just relax and enjoy yourselves. Now, let’s get rid of that body hair, shall we?”

As the group walked down the hall to the room used for hair treatment and other precooking preparations, Sharon took a moment for more study of the group, this time from the rear, watching the buttock meat bobble and jiggle. Really, they all had nice round wiggly butts, just right for any of a number of cooking methods. No stew meat in this bunch.

Once inside the room, Belinda again took charge and organized things. “All right, ladies, in a moment I’ll want four of you on your backs on that low table. Pull your knees back to your shoulders and spread. We need full access to that hair between your thighs. While I spread cream on your pubic hair, Terri and Marlo will get ready to administer the hormone. We’ll do this by injecting the liquid far up your bottoms with an injector like this.” She held up a long, thick, flexible tube with a squeeze bulb on one end. “This treatment is reserved for the milk girls that I select. Sharon, meanwhile, will spread depilatory cream on the rest of your bodies - primarily arms, legs, underarms and any little trouble spots you might like treated. Then you go to the showers and wash it off. The hair will come with it. Any questions?”

Other than a general murmur of excitement, there weren’t any takers, so Belinda told off the large breasted ones she wanted for the dairy and things got underway. Immediately, there was an appreciative murmur as four girls got into position on the tables. Judging from the general remarks, Sharon felt the crowd enjoyed the show as four very nice cunt steaks went on full display.

As it happened, the first four were all milkers, so they were immediately sent to bend over another table while Terri and Marlo went down the line inserting the injectors up their asses to the general appreciation of all. The squirming and sound effects as each girl was treated were quite interesting. Sharon took her own hormone cocktail orally, but Belinda had worked out the anal injection method on Terri and Marlo because, as she said, “Oh, darling, it’s ever so much more fun this way!”

“You need this every three days,” Sharon commented to the group at large, “so get to enjoy it, ladies. The feeling will become quite familiar to you.” And not everything up their butts would be a hormone injector, either.

Sharon’s duty was chosen with fun aforethought. By applying the cream, she was able to run her hands over the most tender parts of each woman. Good way to become acquainted, as well as informally assess the girl’s meat.

On the whole, the depilatory and hormone treatment were universally deemed great fun and a wonderful ice breaker. That set of treatments also put the girls into a receptive and somewhat excited mood for the barbecue a little later. Their expressions and actions told Sharon this bunch of muffins was happily beginning to live out their fantasies, and thrilled about it, at that. Well, muffins one and all were going to experience the whole process, she thought with a wry grin, from start to grill.

Speaking of grill, Belinda had the big one fired up, and on it were a mouth watering selection of ribs, chops and other cuts from the nice little brunette in the cooler. Most of the muffins were gathered around, big eyed at the thought of seeing their first cuts of women flesh cooking. Sharon snorted at the reactions. Those dippy broads were going to get even more big eyed the first time they saw a girl on a spit over the coals. The sight was not only mouthwatering, it was superbly erotic and they were going to get a preview after dinner. Marlo was going to go on a two part spit for some role play, with Terri scheduled to nibble on her pussy at the end. Marlo said it was sort of a sendoff for Terri, who honestly couldn’t wait for the chance to ride a spit for real.

Sharon shuddered. Better Terri than her. Better anyone than her. And, in the end, that pious sentiment made it utterly important that Belinda’s ranch and dairy idea succeed. As long as there were happy muffins jumping at the chance to bend over for a skewer, there would be little or no inclination for Belinda to look in her direction to fill the cooler.

She took a deep breath, let it out, mentally girded her loins, then went to brave the muffin chatter around the grill. Better to concentrate on how tasty they looked, ignoring the continuous noise from one and sundry about how much fun it was going to be cooking when it was their turn.

The aroma was heavenly and the look of the grilling meat was truly appetizing. As she expected, now that she was accustomed to screwy muffin thought processes, Sharon was repeatedly asked how the occasional girl’s various body parts stacked up for the menu. This was usually satisfied by a critical, but highly positive, judgment, accompanied by a pat, fondle or squeeze of the proffered portion of naked flesh. It was obvious, too, that most of the girls enjoyed the tactile part sexually and the rest were getting the idea.

However, one pea brained cookie totally floored Sharon. She was auburn haired, small breasted but with very good legs, hips and an excellent bottom just made for the whole scenario, but her uneasy comment to Sharon’s examination was, “There’s going to be a lot of sex involved with this whole thing, isn’t there?”

Sharon nodded. “Honey, you heard Belinda say that will make your meat taste better, and it’s something for you to enjoy while you’re waiting your turn. We’re going to cook Marlo in role play after dinner and, believe me, you’ll want sexual relief bad after you see the whole roasting process.”

“Well…” the girl continued uncomfortably, “I don’t know if I’m ready for sex. I mean, I left my birth control pills back where I used to live. Actually I’m unprotected, unless you guys have something here.”

Sharon was momentarily stunned, her mind blank. “Uh… honey, there’s only women in the house, which means all the sex is girl-girl.”

“Between women?” The girl was actually puzzled. “How do you do that?”

Sharon sighed. “Never mind. Let’s eat for now. After dinner, we’ll watch Marlo then I’ll take you to a couch and show you how it’s done. Don’t worry, you’ll like it.”

“Can I join in?” A nearby redhead, also small breasted but with fifteen or so extra pounds in all the right spots, spoke up. “I’m new to the game, too, but I’d like to learn if you’ll teach me.”

Sharon shrugged, then nodded. “Great!” the redhead exclaimed. “I’m going to be Angela’s roommate, so we’ll be able to try out what you show us!”

Sharon nodded resignedly. “Yeah. Ok. Well, ladies, dinner smells about ready. Let’s eat.”

After dinner (punctuated by excited muffin comments about the meat - plus speculation about the brunette that provided it), things started to get exciting for the girls again. Belinda stood up and announced, “Well, loves, I promised each of you during the interview you’d get a good taste of woman eating… and she WAS good, wasn’t she… and to experience the feel of riding a spit several times before you did it for real. Well, tonight Marlo will show you how it’s done.”

Marlo stood up and waved to an applauding, excited audience. Sharon rolled her eyes and made a small “get on with it” gesture.

“Marlo, darling,” Belinda continued, “would you please get up on the cook table and we’ll get started. Sharon, would you get the rotisserie going?”

The rotisserie was an electrical set up, so Sharon really had little to do beyond a few switches and settings, which left her able to enjoy the show, both Marlo and the muffins’ reactions. “Remember, dears,” Belinda cautioned with a waving finger, “you mustn’t play with the various devices before Sharon, Marlo, or I can show you how to operate them. After that, you can all use the kitchen or patio equipment whenever you want. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” Nope, Sharon snorted mentally, we want you all in good condition for cooking and filleting.

Meanwhile, Marlo was on her belly on the table, head resting on her arms, a smile on her face as Belinda rubbed her naked body down with cooking oil. Marlo spread her legs to allow Belinda access to her pussy, which she proceeded to thoroughly massage, inside and out, with an oily hand. “Dear one,” Belinda asked Marlo, “do you want the spit in your pussy or your bottom?”

“Oh, pussy this time, Belinda,” an excited Marlo gasped. “I’d like Terri to really baste my rump.

“Besides,” she continued a shaky voice, “I get a real charge from having nine or so inches of spit up my cunt.”

This last comment wasn’t lost on the group at large, and the excited chatter got even more avid.

“Very well, love,” Belinda answered, picking up the bottom half of the spit. “Spread wide, and I’ll put it in you, just as deep as you’d like.” (Muffin comment as a group: “O-h-h-h-h-h!”)

Marlo obligingly spread her legs, displaying a nicely formed and plump cunt steak. Belinda slowly inserted the rounded end of the spit, then smoothly and gently pushed it up into the girl, stopping when she felt resistance. Marlo’s reaction was a low moan and flexing of her round buttocks. Sharon helped tie the girl’s ankles to the shaft, then inserted the padded base of the upper half into Marlo’s obligingly wide open mouth before she tied her wrists behind her back. Belinda flipped one switch on the bottom pole to activate the built-in vibrator, now far up Marlo, then twisted the rotating switch on the base of the pole to start the hypermagnetic field that kept the two halves locked in position. Marlo stiffened as the field activated, as though a solid spit was running through her instead of two parts and an ultra strong, highly controlled magnetic field. “This won’t hurt her, ladies,” Belinda commented to the group at large, “not for the ten or fifteen minutes she’ll be over the heat. And speaking of that…”

Belinda rolled Marlo half on her side so Sharon could bind her large breasts together to keep them from flopping around as she rotated. Then the two women set the spitted woman into the rotisserie, which began to slowly rotate Marlo, her curves glistening with reflected light from the heating elements. “Oh… my, loves,” Belinda said enthusiastically, “isn’t she just so erotically beautiful? And tasty too?”

The expected question came from the crowd of fascinated flakes. “W-w-will that hurt her?”

Belinda favored the group with a brilliant smile and shook her head emphatically. “Certainly not! I do not, under any circumstances believe in hurting a girl I am cooking! If you look at her, she’s already convulsing with her first orgasm. We’ll leave her on the heat, which is just high enough for effect, but not really high enough to hurt her, and let her pop off a few times. When she comes off, she’ll be a bit delirious, still orgasmic, and ever so juicy. Terri will get to finish her off by having her delicious pussy as a snack. She won’t really be biting down, of course, but with a little nibbling and a lot of tongue, the sound effects alone will announce to you just how much she’s enjoying the experience.”

Another voice from the crowd. “Will we feel like that when you really cook us?”

Another Belinda brilliant smile. “Judging from the reactions I’ve seen, as long as we do our part, your feelings and sensations will be far more intense. The ultimate sexual experience, and only one to a customer.” (Muffin comment as a group: “O-h-h-h-h-h!”)

Terri began to baste her friend with spiced oil, dragging the brush between Marlo’s plump buttocks. Judging from the squirming every time the brush trailed between her cheeks, the girl on the spit thoroughly enjoyed the gesture.

Sharon moved into the fascinated crowd around the rotisserie and gave herself over to enjoying one of her favorite sights: a spitted woman whole roasting. It really didn’t matter that it was role play, the scene was simply so erotic she found herself reacting as though she was going to make a meal of Marlo tonight instead of Terri tomorrow. She felt a gentle hand start to squeeze and massage her buttock and returned the favor as she looked at the massager standing next to her. The woman was a little older than the norm, superbly built, and one of Belinda’s designated milkers, but with the appearance of a good bit more intelligence and class than the group as a whole. “Hello,” she said, “I’m Lisa, and I really love what you and Marlo are doing.”

Sharon smiled, reading the invitation in Lisa’s eyes and kissed her, long and gently, using the hand not busy with the woman’s bottom to get busy with one of her nicely shaped large breasts. “Hm,” Sharon replied when they broke apart, “I enjoy what your hand’s doing, too. What say we both take in the show she’s putting on, as well as the music, then go have some fun on the couch?” Since the two part spit didn’t block her vocal cords, Marlo was squealing loudly as an accompaniment to writhing on the spit.

Soon enough, Marlo was brought off the rotisserie and laid on a large platter on one of the tables, her ankles brought back and tied to her wrists in a posture that totally exposed her genital area to an eager Terri. Immediately, Terri grabbed the woman’s thighs and dived, face first, into the juicy pussy. Marlo’s hoarse cries and moans were even more exciting to the watching women.

As Belinda happily passed out terse instructions and vibrators to the crowd, Sharon and Lisa eagerly occupied a nearby lounger and set to with a will. It was some time later when a somewhat tired and thoroughly sated Sharon looked up and was reminded that some things were left unfinished. Angela and her redheaded roommate were standing there looking, Angela with some mild shock mingled with eagerness, and the roommate just plain eager. Turning to look at the woman beneath her, Sharon asked, “Lisa, can you use a strap-on? If you can, we’ve got something else to do tonight.”

By the next morning’s milking, Sharon had decided to develop a whole new attitude towards muffins, one and sundry. She was thinking heavily, as heavily as she could think while distracted by the heavenly sensations of Marlo’s delicate, knowing hands draining her breasts with alternate, gentle squeezes. She decided to stop worrying about what the muffins were going to think or do about girl cooking and related matters. After all, Terri and Marlo had given her a preview of how the breed thought, and there were surely enough muffins around here now to give a great variety of amusements if she’d just settle down and enjoy what the girls were doing. Of course, what they were doing could be rather screwy at times.

Lisa, Angela, and Rhonda, the fleshy redhead, had joined her in what Belinda now referred to as the milk barn, a former workroom on one side of the house refinished with pleasant colors, comfortable chairs for girls waiting their turn or relaxing afterwards, low shelves the women could easily mount for milking, and plenty of pails and milk processing machinery. Terri was to one side, calmly waiting her turn.

At the moment, Sharon was on hands and knees, proper milking position, on one of the two milking shelves, with Marlo standing in front of her, squeezing her milk into a large stainless steel bowl on a stand. Once she finished, Sharon would get down and Marlo and Terri would get up for Sharon to return the favor. As Marlo was finishing up, Sharon got hold of herself mentally, and an idea struck her. “Girls,” she said to the three new muffins, “you need to learn how to do this. When Terri and Marlo get up here, you join me and I’ll give you a little class. It’s easy, really.”

Angela looked a little dubious but willing, Rhonda smiled happily, and Lisa replied, “Sure. Glad to!”

Terri piped up. “Just don’t drain me more than halfway, please. I want enough milk in my breasts to add flavor when I’m served.”

Sharon, true to her new resolution, didn’t even wince. “Of course, dear. We’ll be happy to accommodate.”

As Terri and Marlo got into position on the shelf, happily rubbing bare shoulders and silken hips together, Belinda bustled into the room, the other seven muffins sleepily in tow. “Oh, wonderful, dears!” She exclaimed. “Now everyone will get to see just how milking is done. Remember, ladies, most of you will be up on that shelf giving milk by day after tomorrow.”

Belinda appeared to be having a little trouble organizing the sleepy muffins into some kind of attentive group. With a sly smile, Lisa drifted behind the bunch, then began applying slaps and pinches to plump bottom cheeks in a way calculated to get the girls into fully awake, if slightly resentful, order. Belinda was duly appreciative at the result. “Lisa, love, you were such a help!”

“I could have done better with a barbecue fork, Belinda,” Lisa replied.

“A dull one, dear girl,” Belinda said. “Wouldn’t want to hurt anyone. But… that IS an idea, now.

“Sharon,” she said decisively, “after you show the ladies how to properly perform the milking chores, you and I should have a talk.”

Uh, oh. Belinda’s had another idea. Sigh. Go with the flow. “OK, Belinda, later. Ladies?”

After the milking class, and consultation with Belinda, Sharon found herself wearing a dulled barbecue fork on a long thong looped around her waist. Great! Now she was the designated Town Marshal for a community of nuts bent on having themselves served up for dinner. Marvelous.

Sharon found the gaggle in the tiled alcove used for cleaning the girls about to be cooked. Terri was bent over, but the enema was obviously finished, because Marlo was industriously working the handle of a cleaning brush in and out of Terri’s butt. The brushes were sponge headed and mounted on a three foot long, soft, and highly flexible shaft, so as to go around corners inside the woman without causing her any discomfort. Judging by Terri’s expression and the noises she was making, Terri wasn’t in any discomfort. Quite the opposite, in fact.

The gaggle of new muffins was wide-eyed at the scene. Obviously the first time they’d seen a girl being seriously prepared for the evening meal. All, that is, except Lisa, who was smiling pleasantly. She’d obviously seen it done and/or done it before this. “This isn’t really new to you, is it?” Sharon murmured in her ear.

Lisa grinned cheerily at her. “Actually, it is. The rest of this bunch is basically familiar with pictures, drawings, and stories, but I’ve been to that underground restaurant in Miami a few times, and loved it. I’ve loved the way the girls taste and loved the idea of cooking one. I’ve even been cooked in role play a few times. Not as sophisticated as the way you guys do it, but I still loved the feeling. Finally, I decided that riding the spit for real was the ultimate thrill, and I want to do it. I’ve looked around, and spent some time thinking about it, and I like the way Belinda plans to go about cooking me. That’s why I’m here. On the other hand, nothing says I can’t enjoy myself, up to and including my ride on the spit.”

Sharon shook her head. “I’ll never understand that attitude. That, and the fact you seem a good bit smarter than the rest of this bunch of loonies.”

Lisa shrugged and looked around her at the group, still smiling. “Oh, they’re all as serious as I am, and they’re not really all that nutty, or dumb, either. They want the ultimate thrill just like I do, but they’ve just analyzed things a little less. Hey, I get to go out at the top of my game experiencing the ultimate fuck! Who wouldn’t want that?”

“Me,” Sharon said flatly. Then her tone softened. “But everyone has their own thing, and I guess I shouldn’t criticize.”

Lisa placed an arm gently around Sharon’s waist and kissed her. “Thanks. By the way, I want you to get my pussy when I’m carved. Think Belinda will let you?”

“Not a problem with that. Belinda likes the idea of friends getting friends pussies.” Sharon changed the subject. “Look, we’re going to be putting Terri on the spit in a little while, and everyone will get as charged up as they usually do when a woman’s actually cooking.”

To Lisa’s curious look, Sharon explained with a smile. “If you thought Marlo’s performance last night got the girls hot, wait until they’ve seen a spitted girl live roasting for real. Crazy, but there it is. Anyhow, what say we grab the twins and you and I bounce around on them while Terri finishes roasting. Everybody will be hot for it by the time she’s gone and she’ll still have a few hours left to cook before carving. Then after dinner we can go to my room and see how late into the night we can fuck each other senseless.”

Eyeing the plush, curvy blonde twins, Lisa nodded. “They have plenty to bounce on. Looks like a plan. Come on, it looks like Terri’s ready for the kitchen. I really want to see this.”

They were all gathered in the kitchen when Terri finally came out, waving to the applause of the group. With a bright smile, she calmly got on the spitting jig, a construct like a padded saw horse, and had her wrists and ankles shackled to the legs. The position left her bent over with her legs spread to reveal her nicely meaty cunt. The muffins watched wide-eyed as Sharon took a large bowl of stuffing that included assorted parts from the brunette and began pushing it up Terri’s ass by the handful. After several handfuls, Sharon took a thick rounded smooth dowel and packed the stuffing in deeper. The muffins watched the whole process in awed silence. Terri, of course, signaled her thoughts on the matter with sensual squirms, moans and squeals. She even had her first orgasm during the process.

Belinda and Sharon carefully placed the automatic spitter so the point of a spit was just inside Terri’s vaginal lips, then Belinda took a small brush and a jar and spread a small amount of stimulant on her pussy. Terri immediately resumed squirming, then gasping as the spit entered her about six inches. Belinda left the spit in pulsing mode for a few minutes, enough for Terri’s next climax. “Role play mode, dears,” Belinda explained. “Now that she’s popped off, I’ll set it to push through her. The machine can do it smoothly enough that there’s very little blood and pain. Terri wants to be alive as long as possible over the heat, and we certainly want to help her obtain her objective.”

“How hot will it be?” a nervous voice asked.

“Oh, love, only enough to give her delirium, numbness, and heat stroke. That’s what will finally get her, but she’ll be so out of her head with sensation, she’ll probably never notice. That’s when we’ll turn up the heat and really begin to cook her,” Belinda replied. She began to bustle around Terri, stroking, caressing and shifting the girl so the spit had a straight path to the esophagus and, eventually, her mouth. “I certainly don’t want to hurt her, or any of you, and I want her to experience as many orgasms as possible. It gives the meat such an incredible flavor, you know.”

Muffin comment as a group: “Oh-h-h-h-h!”

Terri convulsed several times as the spit smoothly penetrated her body, with sound effects that were distinctly sexual in nature. Finally, it was through her and out her mouth by about four feet. Belinda lashed Terri’s arms to the front of the spit, while Sharon straightened her legs and lashed then to the back portion while Belinda bound her hair tightly to keep it from burning. Then the two women gently rolled Terri off the jig and onto a serving cart , putting her on her side so Belinda could bind her large breasts together to keep them from flopping. Nobody missed the fact that the entree was highly excited, indicated by the fact that that both her nipples were oozing drops of milk. Once that was done, Terri was rolled back on her belly for the trip out to the patio rotisserie.

Once the spitted woman was mounted on the rotisserie, the machinery began to rotate her and Marlo began to baste Terri’s body with spiced olive oil. After the first coat was applied, Marlo walked around to the front of the rotisserie so Terri could see her and said softly, “Enjoy yourself , honey, and I’ll be following you soon enough, just like we always wanted. First, though, we’re going all the way together.”

Marlo inserted her fingers between her thighs and began to stroke herself. “Just enjoy yourself and pop off as much as you want. I’m going to match you one for one.”

The muffins were silent, respecting the communion between Terri and her friend, but Sharon could see a number of the girls beginning to rub their thighs together from excitement and, here and there, an occasional hand stroking a soft body part or cupping a breast. She could understand the feeling, because the erotic sight of a spitted woman, her glistening curves rotating above the heat, was always so sexually exciting. Instead of stroking herself, though, she walked up behind one of the twins and began running a hand over the silken flesh of the naked girl’s rounded bottom. Beside her, Lisa was doing the same to the other twin. “We’ll watch until she’s gone,” Sharon whispered into the blonde’s ear, reaching around with her unoccupied hand to fondle a large breast, “then we’ll go over to that couch and really work on this excitement.” The girl turned her head and kissed Sharon passionately, giving all the answer needed.

Several weeks later, Sharon was reflecting on how much she liked Belinda’s dairy and ranch idea. As she reclined on a patio lounger in the afternoon sun, she relaxed and began thinking about all the various wild scenes that had happened so far, with certainly more to come.

Familiar gasps and moans broke her train of thought and caused her to peer over the top of her sunglasses at the huge cooking pot set up over by the grill. There was a low fire under the pot with two bound and gagged girls writhing and squirming in the hot water, seasonings, and vegetables inside. A third - Lisa, actually - grinned and stirred the soup as the two wriggly pieces of stew meat enjoyed themselves. They weren’t really cooking, since Belinda didn’t very much care for boiled meat, but they were going right to the edge, meanwhile flavoring what was actually going to be tonight’s soup with a good bit of girl juice with every orgasm. Sharon smiled as she watched the two grimacing, highly active women squeal through yet another pop off. Their “jungle captive” fantasy was enough to get them started, of course, but the heat, bindings, general situation and vibrators tucked in their butts certainly were helping things along nicely. Happily anticipating the taste, Sharon thought that Lisa’s description of how to make Pussy Soup was right on the mark: “First, take two gushing blondes…”

Lisa. Ah, yes. She was now Head Muffin Procurer since Marlo had realized her fantasy the week after Terri, and proved quite delicious. A couple of others had followed, to be replaced by new members of what was apparently an abundant supply of willing dinners. Sharon shook her head at that. She still couldn’t understand the mentality, but it kept things at a fresh and interesting pace around the house.

Every once in a while, for instance, someone would put some music on in the evening and dim the lights a little and everyone would have a nice time dancing. Sharon especially enjoyed the slow dances, holding a nude girl pressed to her bare flesh and swaying gently to the tunes. Belinda, as energetic as she was, much preferred the lively stuff, and could get some really wild gyrations out of just about everybody. Well worth watching- especially Belinda’s fabulous body going in all directions at once - and a lot of fun.

Then there was the night they were watching some bikini contest or another on the TV and Lisa announced, “Hey, those girls just aren’t doing it right!”

“What’s wrong with it, dear?” Belinda asked.

Lisa frowned. “Well, besides the clothes, they just aren’t showing their meat properly! I mean, they mostly have nice bottoms and all, but they just don’t display them the way they should. Nuts! We all have better asses than they do, and I can prove it.”

Rita, one of the original milk girls asked, “How?”

Lisa thought for a minute. “I know, we’ll have our own contest!”

Belinda looked off for a minute, her finger to her chin in her favorite thinking pose, then brightened. “Why, Lisa, dear, that’s an excellent idea! What shall we give as first prize?”

Lisa grinned. “The winner will be the next one cooked. That ought to give everyone motivation to show off their butts quite nicely.” The group in the room loudly and enthusiastically agreed, and the contest was set for the next evening.

Sharon settled her sunglasses back over her eyes, lay back on the lounge chair and relived the memory of the contest in her mind, thinking about all the smooth, plump female buttocks temptingly displayed before the judges. Of course, she, Belinda and Lisa had judged the contest, according to the rules Lisa laid out. Meat display, fullness, tenderness (as graded by each judge when she squeezed and jiggled the meat on its giggling owner), and penetrability were each judged. The last was tested by having each contestant turn her back to the judges and squat down on a thick, rounded, greased dowel, upright on a low stand. The contestants were judged on how fast and far they got the thing up their butts, and the girls had obviously been practicing in anticipation of stuffing or spitting, because most of them made the dowel smoothly and rapidly disappear. After much jiggling and joggling, wiggling and waggling, Belinda finally had everybody line up, backs to her, and signaled first place by gently patting the winning girl’s soft ass cheek. Whereupon, she took the winner off to bed, while Sharon and Lisa got to bang the bottoms of the two runners-up. In all, a fun night and a contest that was going to be repeated. Sharon decided they were going to judge cunt steaks next time. Yum!

Then there was the morning milking. It was enjoyable, after her own breasts were drained, to see three or four big breasted beauties on hands and knees on the milking shelf, shoulders and hips pressed together along the line while the milk maids and various assistants (girl milking was a popular chore) squeezed milk from assorted sets of nipples. Of course, the place was always crowded with women either resting up from their own milking or waiting their turn. Rosie and Alana, both milk girls themselves, had come up with a new and interesting twist. After missing them during the morning session, Sharon had found them in the barbecue area on the patio. Rosie was suspended on a two part spit on the spit stand, hands tied behind her back and ankles tied to the bottom half, looking for all the world like she was ready to be moved to the rotisserie. Instead, Alana was happily milking the girl. Judging from the sounds Rosie was making, she was enjoying the process. Alana looked at Sharon and said, “Thought we’d combine two really fun fantasies, and I’m next! Want to join us next time?” Sharon had demurred, declaring, however, that the idea was interesting and could possibly revolutionize the morning milking. Later on, both happy and sated women agreed. Belinda had to limit the spit milkings for efficiency’s sake, and to avoid overstraining anyone’s heart with the hypermagnetic spit’s magnetic field as it permeated their bodies, but there was always a pair on the patio in the mornings. Sharon actually thought briefly about trying it, but then shuddered. No need to give Belinda any ideas about how she looked on a spit!

Sharon decided the muffins certainly had wild imaginations about their fantasy of being meat, and Lisa definitely was the girl to organize things and make them really fun. Good combination. Lisa was certainly going to have to stay around for a while.

Not forever, though, Sharon thought, studying Lisa’s full, luscious figure as she enthusiastically stirred the soup pot and occasionally stroked the stew meat. That girl was an excellent collection of steaks, chops and cutlets on the hoof.

Sharon sighed. This was fun, but it wasn’t getting the chores done. They needed a thigh for dinner tonight, and Angela needed to be sectioned, so guess who got to do the butchering? Hm. Maybe she could draft a muffin or two to help. As she got up and headed for the stairs to the basement, she recalled there were a couple already down there in the cage.

Sure enough, inside the basement cage, there they were. Caroline was lying on the bed pad, looking abused and bedraggled, with a large ball gag stuffed in her mouth and her wrists chained to the wall over her head. Jasmine was kneeling on the floor near the pad with her wrists and ankles shackled together. She also had the appearance of someone in the midst of long term suffering. Both were classically maltreated and restrained women miserably awaiting their last trip to the kitchen.

“Caroline,” Sharon called out, “can you help me? I’ve got to section Angela and get one of her thighs for tonight’s meal.”

The girl on the pad nodded, pressed the release button on her shackles with a finger, then removed her ball gag. As she passed her kneeling, chained partner, she affectionately kissed her on the top of her head. “Lucky you, I’ve got to go work,” she said pleasantly. “I’ll be back soon, sweetie, and remember, I get to be on the bottom, this time.”

Jasmine nodded and smiled around her own gag as Caroline let herself out of the cage and cheerily accompanied Sharon to the cooler, chatting happily. As they took the headless, gutted carcass of Angela off its hook, Sharon was mentally counting down the minutes. Bingo! Just as expected and right on time. “Sharon,” Caroline said as they positioned Angela in front of the meat saw, “how about when you cut me up? Would you say I have plenty of good meat?”

Glancing at the girl’s nice figure, Sharon laughed. “Sure honey, you’ll feed this crowd for four or five days, easy.” That produced even more happy chatter as Sharon flipped the switch on the saw and began sectioning meat.

Meat sectioning wasn’t uppermost on Brooke’s mind as she stood by the bar of the little open sided beach tavern. Oh, there was a lot of good girl meat on display, some of the best of it, she thought complacently, was encased in one of her designer bikinis. It was just that today was a designated down day to spend with good friends, four of whom were gathered around one of the tables on the far side of the sun deck overlooking the beach.

Glancing at the table, she smiled fondly at the assemblage. Two of the women, Vivian and Lorna, were rather plushly built. VERY plushly, in fact, in Vivian’s case. She was about the most voluptuous woman Brooke had ever seen with absolutely no flab. Lorna, shorter than her friend by about six inches, was simply a smaller edition of Vivian, and just as awesomely curvy. The other two, blonde Jess and dark haired Miki, had full, nicely rounded figures and weathered - but surprisingly attractive - good looks, appropriate for the former porn stars they were. And not only good looks and nicely (or spectacularly, in the case of Vivian and Lorna) rounded bodies were attracting appreciative looks from quite a few patrons of the bar’s patio. The four women were wearing bikinis that covered maybe about ten square inches apiece. Good thing none of those girls burned easily!

Brooke’s bikini covered slightly more of her sleek international swimsuit model’s body, but not by much. That, and the swimsuit was one of the latest models from her current design line. Being a member of the Society of Lilith (and a former president) had allowed her to get from in front of the camera - or command an indecently high fee when she modeled - and become president of her own swimwear company. Which was doing quite nicely, thank you. Of course, the other four were also full members of the Society. In fact, Vivian was the past president and Lorna was the current president.

“I’ll take the drinks back to the table, Brooke,” said a furry contralto voice from her elbow. The voice belonged to Maria, her new assistant and live-in lover. As Brooke smiled and nodded, the girl, a dark haired, big eyed, five foot two inch edition of herself in a bikini as tiny as the other four, favored her with a bright smile. Brooke smiled back while she pondered, yet again the problem the girl represented. Basically, Maria wanted to become a member of the Society of Lilith, an underground power organization of women. Fine, but Maria was a wonderful lover and a great assistant. Any candidate member of the society was eligible for roasting over an open fire as lunch at any of her first four quarterly meetings of the Society at its private island in the Caribbean. Only four girls were chosen to cook at each meeting, and Lorna, one of Brooke’s best friends and a former lover, was the one who did the choosing in her capacity as president, so the odds against Maria really weren’t all that bad. On the other hand, it really would be a great shame to lose the girl to a cooking spit. Even, Brooke reflected as she eyed the retreating Maria’s nicely curved little body, if she did have the most mouth watering firm ass and thighs.

“Excuse me, but you’re Brooke Park, aren’t you?” came a beautifully modulated voice behind her.

Brooke turned and beheld a tall blonde, mid thirties, classically beautiful, whose minimal bikini exposed a broad expanse of firm, deliciously shaped flesh. “Yes,” she replied courteously, although she really wasn’t interested in conversation.

“I’m Cynthia Manigault,” the blonde vision continued. “I’ve always wanted to make your acquaintance.”

Brooke recognized her now. The woman had been an Internet sensation a few years ago, hosting a nudie site that featured generous helpings of her own luscious body. Although she hadn’t done much since, Brooke seemed to recall hearing rumors about her ego and bitchy personality. As the woman launched into a monologue about how pleased she was to make her acquaintance, Brooke decided the rumors were probably correct. As the monologue descended into a vivid description of the faults of her producers and the idiotic ineptitude and greed of her assistants and models, Brooke corrected her earlier impression to conclude the rumors were entirely correct.

Bitchy: Check.

Arrogant: Check.

Egotistical: Check.

Predatory: Check.

All in all, someone she really didn’t want to have any closer than, say, about ten miles away. But there didn’t seem to be any way to break contact. Mentally, she began imagining Cynthia’s broad mouth wrapped around a cooking spit. Possibly a double width spit up her ass.

Then Cynthia did it. Looking around, she said, “Why don’t you come back to my table and have a drink? It’ll be the last one I’m going to have here, at any rate, now that the management is letting in the fat and ugly.”

Cynthia was looking directly at the table with Vivian and her friends! Brooke’s volcanic temper quickly shot into what Lorna termed her “dangerous diva” mode. She was just about to tell this bitchy broad where to get off, when her brain brought her mouth to a screeching halt. Whoa, girl! There are better things you can do.

Smiling in her best insincere friendly manner, Brooke said, “Why don’t I do just that?”

Reaching for the little cell phone in her beach bag, she continued, “I’ll just be a moment.”

NEXT POST

“Oh, please do,” Cynthia continued. “There’s something I really want to talk to you about.

“I’ve heard you’re the president of the Society of Lilith,” Cynthia plowed on, “and I want to join.”

That stopped Brooke dead. The Society wasn’t common knowledge and the members wanted it that way. If this bitch knew about it, even with the obviously out of date information she was displaying, she was dangerous. But before she could say anything, Cynthia continued.

Mistaking Brooke’s expression, the blonde continued. “Don’t worry, the person that told me isn’t around any more. She ended up as the centerpiece at my last party. But I also know that a new member has to provide a girl to cook at your meetings, and I have just the one. She’s my assistant right now, but useless, as usual. I’m ready to get rid of her. If she can serve me this way, at least she’ll do some good.”

Wincing at this dollop of misinformation, Brooke looked at the girl at the indicated table. Pretty, about ten years younger than Cynthia, and wearing a rather conservative bikini. She looked harried and beat down, looking anxiously at her boss talking with the strange woman. Brooke was hatching a ruthless and underhanded plan that would have done justice to Lorna, acknowledged mistress of the ruthless and underhanded. If it worked, she was about to do Cynthia’s assistant a big favor.

Sharon and Belinda were sitting on the patio watching a few muffins play soup in the hot tub when one of the girls in the house brought the phone out. “Belinda, a lady named Brooke Park wants to talk to you.”

“Thank you, dear,” Belinda said graciously as she took the phone. Sharon watched curiously as Belinda engaged in a conversation unusually terse for her, especially since Brooke was one of her small circle of close friends. In fact, the conversation consisted mostly of the occasional “Hmm.”

Belinda concluded with a cheery, “Of course, dear girl. Please bring her right up to the house. I’d love to have her!”

Finishing the call, Belinda popped to her feet and clapped her hands loudly, “Ladies, I have something for the whole group. Everyone on the patio!”

When the entire gaggle of muffins, to include Lisa, were assembled, Belinda announced, “Ladies, were going to have visitors! Most of them will be dear friends of mine, so there’s no need for concern. They know all about you. But there’ll be one very special girl coming along, and this is what I want you to do…”

Brooke was prepared for Cynthia’s gasp of surprise as she pulled her car into Belinda’s gated driveway. The house was a huge ranch style mansion, perched on the bluff overlooking the Atlantic, and simply breathed money. Brooke remembered her own shock at discovering dotty Belinda was filthy rich, and it amused her that Cynthia’s reaction was so much deeper. Apparently the bitch was money hungry as well as all of her other wonderful character traits. Obviously, Cynthia was going to try and put the make on Belinda before the day was over. Brooke smiled a quiet, secret smile at that thought.

She’d gotten Cynthia into the car by explaining that Belinda was a rich recluse that kept a stable of girls for cooking and milking, and Brooke was due over there this afternoon for dinner. Wouldn’t Cynthia like to come along? Of course Cynthia would! Too bad the assistant had to be left out, but those were the breaks.

Brook had a quiet little conversation with the forlorn but relieved girl prior to leaving, and gave her Lorna’s business number with instructions to call her next week, but for now, to just get lost. The girl might turn out to be a good model for some All American Girl type shoots. Anyhow, her good deed for the day was done. Now…

Brooke parked the car and led Cynthia up to the solid mahogany front door. Both were wearing just shirts over their swimsuits, in deference to what Brooke told her was Belinda’s household undress code, i.e. pure skin. Cynthia had been a little surprised at that, but she had a fully curved, sleek body and knew it. Didn’t mind displaying it, either. Ergo, just chalk the whole thing up to eccentricities of the wealthy and enjoy the view.

Brooke was sure the house security system had them under surveillance, proved by the fact the door opened before they could knock. Cynthia let out her second gasp when the person in the doorway proved to be Sharon and Cynthia got her first look at Sharon’s lush figure and VERY plentiful portico.

Brooke and Sharon hugged hello, exchanging greetings, and Cynthia was introduced. Matter-of-factly, Brooke took off her shirt, shoes and bikini, leaving shirt and bikini hanging on a coat tree in the hall. After a moment’s hesitation, Cynthia followed suit. Both nude women both turned to go deeper into the house, but were brought to a screeching halt by a bare blonde whirlwind and the blonde’s whirlwind greeting.

“Brooke, darling! And this must be your friend Cynthia! Oh, welcome, welcome, loves!” Belinda followed immediately with energetic hugs that left both women slightly dazed and breathless. “It’s so wonderful that you’ve come to visit my ranch. You must come with me immediately and I’ll just introduce you to tonight’s dinner!”

Cynthia was a bit overwhelmed. Surely this blonde dynamo didn’t mean what she was saying!

She did.

Tonight’s dinner was named Lita. She was a short, highly rounded, bouncy, cheerful Hispanic brunette that Sharon regarded as completely unhinged because of her ambition to be spit roasted. Brooke took her happy hug of greeting in stride, while Cynthia, given the same treatment, appeared to be still trying to adjust to a really weird and ever-changing situation that was rapidly spiraling away from her. Both Brooke and Sharon felt a little sympathetic as Cynthia tried to grasp the fact that this pleasant, jiggly little package actually wanted to become dinner. Brooke smiled wryly at Sharon and received an equally wry nod in return. Spit-muffins were beyond understanding. Best to simply let it go and enjoy a good meal.

Lita brought a tray of full wine glasses, and Belinda served the first one to Cynthia. “Here, love,”, she said. “Enjoy a glass or so. I regard this as an occasion and a chance to show off my little enterprise, thus a reason for enjoyment and celebration. Drink up, there’ll be more available as you see the operation.”

Still slightly dazzled, Cynthia drank up as ordered, finding the vintage a touch dry but excellent. Feeling a little more settled, she accepted another glass and joined her hostess on a tour of the house/dairy/ranch. The first stop was the huge living room, regarded by all inhabitants, both cooks and menu, as a common room. Cynthia’s first impression was that it was loaded with naked girls lounging, talking and generally hanging out. Girls might not be the appropriate word, Cynthia thought, since all were at least in their twenties and a few appeared to be in their early thirties. All of them had shaved pussies and deliciously round, meaty figures, with more than half highly developed in the breast department. All were nicely curved, but none of the women were chunky.

“The ones with the large breasts,” Belinda commented, “are our milkers. The others do the milking chores and generally help out while they wait their turn in the kitchen. Actually, dear, almost everyone lends a hand at the daily milking chore; It’s really quite fun, you see. And, of course, everyone is encouraged to enjoy sex as much as possible, since it improves the flavor of their meat.

“In truth,” she added, as a full bodied thirtysomething brunette walked up and kissed her on her cheek, “I tend to prefer women a little older, since they are normally fully developed and quite flavorful. Oh, the meat from a woman in her early twenties is usually firm and quite tasty, but I do truly enjoy the tender texture of a steak from someone like Janet, here.” Belinda punctuated her comment by throwing an arm around Janet and hugging her to her side.

Janet smiled serenely. “I guarantee my inner thighs will be a gourmet’s delight, Belinda. And my upper hips are as tender as any here, too.”

Brooke reached down and patted, then gently squeezed, a round buttock. “Mmm. I really want a slice of that, Janet. You’re right. You’ve got some fabulous cuts on you.”

“I’m going to put on a real show on the spit, too!” Janet said proudly.

“That’s wonderful, darling,” Belinda smiled and patted her on the cheek, “but we really must get on with Cynthia and Brooke’s tour, don’t you think?

Cynthia was still a little dazed and wide eyed, as well as shocked at the frankness of the last conversation, but she was slowly getting used to the place. Actually, she was beginning to wonder if she hadn’t strayed into a Dolcett amusement park by some kind of cosmic happy chance. The girls all fit right in. Cynthia could see that the women all appeared to be as comfortable in their skin as Belinda, and there was a great deal of casual body contact, stroking and handling. In general, everyone appeared healthy and happy, something she still had a slightly hard time grasping, since all of the girls were scheduled for a spit or roasting pan, and that was something she really wanted to see.

“We call them spit muffins,” Brooke commented matter-of-factly. “Girls whose biggest fantasy is to be cooked and eaten. I usually have one or two around the house, myself, waiting for a platter. It’s amazing how common the idea is, really, and muffins can get into some really bizarre permutations. Some of the things they dream up for role play can be pretty wild.”

“Like what, for instance?” Cynthia asked. The whole place was becoming quite exciting. She was staring to feel a tingling between her thighs that told her she was becoming stimulated. Just looking at all that bare female flesh was beginning to get to her. The idea of actually cooking those girls was only adding to the excitement.

“Oh,” Sharon said, “we’ve got a large cauldron on the patio they can build a fire under and jump in to pretend they’re being boiled in the classic cannibal fashion. We don’t really cook them, just let them simmer in really hot water, but the ones that like the fantasy produce plenty of juice and we add vegetables and spices to make a really flavorful soup. Tastes great.

“Then there’s the little twist they’ve added to milking,” she continued. “One of the girls will be spitted on a two part spit hung on supports, then her partner milks her while she’s skewered. They love it and it’s really fun to watch. Maybe we’ll give you a demonstration.”

“Oh, I hope so!” Cynthia nearly moaned. The tingling in her cunt was worse, and she could feel herself getting wet. What a place! “Do they scream a lot when the fire hits them?” she asked, hope plain in her voice.

Belinda shook a cautioning finger at her. “Now dear, we never do anything to hurt our girls. We want them as happy as they can be, given that they are actually meat in the pantry, that is. It’s their fantasy, after all, but quite practical. A happy and sexually excited girl is simply excellent eating.”

A series of squeals from outside punctuated Belinda’s admonition, and drew the group. Once on the patio, Cynthia noticed the broad concrete expanse, Olympic sized pool, barbecue pit, tables, lounge chairs, and the soup cauldron. All that was quickly forgotten as she saw the source of the squeals, still happily continuing..

A nicely plump redhead was on her front on one of the tables, legs and arms folded tightly and trussed under her in a roasting position. Driving a strap-on in and out of the bound girl’s bottom with a force that made her large breasts flop, a slightly older blonde was happily banging her butt with a genuine will. The redhead, of course, was the source of the noise.

“Isn’t that sweet?” Belinda asked happily. “They’re playing stuff-the-roast. Rosalee is the roast and Aliee is stuffing her.”

“Rather emphatically, too,” Brooke commented with a grin. “I’d say that pretty soon that roast ought to be so open you could put an apple up her ass, let alone a meat thermometer or a carrot.”

Cynthia realized she was getting a truly graphic explanation of what Belinda meant when she said that sex was encouraged here. That wasn’t all she was getting. Unconsciously, she was beginning to rub her thighs together.

The motion hadn’t gone unnoticed. Cynthia felt a finger insinuate itself between her thighs and rub her cunt lips. “Yep,” said Sharon, owner of the appendage, “she’s wet as hell. Honey, you better let me take care of this.”

As Brooke deftly stepped in to relieve her of her wineglass, Cynthia turned and grabbed Sharon, mashing her grapefruit sized breasts into the other woman’s plush mammaries and holding her tightly and burying her face in the Sharon’s shoulder as the finger in her cunt proceeded to get quite frisky. It seemed like almost no time before she gasped and groaned through a short, sharp, powerful orgasm. Brooke smiled and toasted Cynthia, while Sharon returned Brooke’s grin. Lita looked envious. Neither Rosalee or Aliee seemed to pay attention. Belinda thoughtfully studied Cynthia’s still quivering body.

After things had gotten back to (relatively) normal, Cynthia began eyeing the muffins, then Lita, as she sipped a newly refilled wine glass. She was still feeling randy, and decided a few intelligent questions might help take her mind off the tingling in her cunt. “Belinda, what are the best portions of a woman, for cooking, I mean?”

She reached over and grabbed one of Lita’s round breasts in an underneath cradling motion and said, “I bet these really cook up beautifully!” Then squeezed. Hard.

Lita yelped, and Belinda reached over, taking Cynthia’s wrist just below the squeezing hand in thumb and forefinger. Belinda, although she didn’t look it, was tremendously strong. Cynthia released Lita as her hand almost instantly numbed. “Now dear, I told you we don’t mistreat the girls. That’s not nice. Breasts aren’t really the best meat. Far too rich.”

Without any apparent effort, she pulled Cynthia’s hand away from the girl and released it. “In fact,” Belinda continued, without missing a beat, “I’ll be glad to show you, if you behave.”

Examining Cynthia with a professional eye, Belinda commented, “You, for instance, have perfect arms for a beach cookout, calves, too. Even your back has just the right amount of smooth meat and your ribs would be excellent for a barbecue.”

A little disturbed, but strangely fascinated at this catalog of her edible parts, Cynthia took another shaky gulp of wine as Belinda gently trailed a hand down her belly. She was also becoming highly stimulated again. Any more of this, she’d be so wet, she’d start leaking. “This would make very tasty bacon, love. A good belly cut makes wonderful breakfast meat, or can be seasoned and boiled like the finest corned beef,” Belinda noted.

“I’m quite happy you’ve shaved your cunt, dear, since you have the most wonderfully developed plump round pubic mound, too. That probably means your pussy will be equally meaty,” Belinda said with a dimpled smile. “Not that I’ve seen it, yet, but I’ve judged enough women to know.

“Now, further down,” the hand trailed down to caress a thigh, “these are quite nicely toned, which means the meat will have great texture, but you’re smooth enough that I can se you have just the right amount of fat for good taste.”

Belinda reached around and jiggled one of Cynthia’s smoothly rounded buttocks. “One of these, my dear, would make for a simply excellent roast or several truly delectable steaks.”

Standing back and looking at Cynthia’s body critically, Belinda smilingly commented, “In fact, love, you are much better suited for dinner than Lita… Sorry ,Lita, dearest!… And you really are a perfect bitch, which is my usual prey, so I think we’ll have you for dinner, instead.”

Sharon and Brooke, who’d seen this coming a mile away, grabbed Cynthia’s wrists before the shocked woman could recover. Selected muffins quickly supplied a ball gag and plastic ties, and Cynthia suddenly found herself gagged and bound hand and foot. Futile struggles and strange muffled noises around the gag immediately ensued.

Things immediately got stranger , if not worse, for Cynthia as five more naked women strolled out and ranged themselves in front of her. Two were quite plushly built, two were curvy and good looking in a slightly weathered fashion, and one was small, tightly built, but quite pleasantly rounded. To wit: Vivian, Lorna, Jess, Miki, and Maria. “Hi,” Lorna said with a smile that had absolutely no humor whatsoever, “we’re fat.”

“We’re ugly,” Jess added with another deadly smile.

Maria finished in a furry contralto, “And I’m just pissed off.”

Brooke leaned close and whispered tenderly in Cynthia’s ear, “Meet my best friends, Cynthia. You know, you are a real bitch, all right, and Belinda just loves ‘em… especially roasted.”

“Brooke, love,” Belinda chirped, “would you and a few of the girls please take Cynthia back and get her cleaned out? I’ll just have the kitchen ready for her by the time you’re finished.”

“I’ll bet that enema tube will feel like a fire hose when it goes in her,” Lorna commented judiciously.

Belinda spread Cynthia’s buttocks to check. “My, yes, love, she’s quite tight.”

Brooke grinned over her shoulder as she, Jess, Miki, and Lisa bore the struggling Cynthia off to the cleaning facility. “She may be tight right now, but I’ll fix that problem. I’m going to play stuff-the-roast with her.”

“That’s nice, dear,” Belinda replied sweetly as she waved the little group on its way. “I’m sure she’ll enjoy it. Just make sure you clean up your toys and put them away neatly when you finish.”

Vivian gave Belinda a wry look. “She’ll enjoy it?”

“Of course, dear,” Belinda replied with a trace of smugness. “There’s a new drug on the market, somewhat like a female viagra. Every glass of wine she drank was loaded with it. A few more of those, and she was going to be ready to fuck a fireplug.”

Everyone laughed and relaxed with the casual conversation of friends catching up on each other’s news. After a few minutes, a loud series of muffled squeals issued from the back. “There, darlings, I told you, she’d just loving it,” Belinda commented and everyone laughed again. “Now, I told Lisa right after I saw her she’s got the perfect body for oven roasting, so we really need to get the kitchen and oven ready for her. Come, ladies, let’s get to it!”

Everything was ready by the time Brooke and her crew carried out the big low sided roasting pan with Cynthia in it, one woman holding tightly to each of the pan’s four handles. Cynthia was erect, gagged, sitting on her heels with her wrists and legs bound, and Sharon thought the expression on her face was quite a study. The old predatory arrogance was gone and the replacement was a curious mixture. Sharon thought the nervous fear was understandable, but there was an element of discomfort, too, probably caused by the thick plugs holding her ass and cunt open. But there was something else. She finally recognized an undercurrent of sexual excitement, either caused by the drug or the situation. After all, Sharon reflected wryly, the woman had already been penetrated any number of ways, with more, and more extreme, penetrations to come.

The women lifted Cynthia’s pan slightly, to slide it onto the top of a low kitchen work island. This left Cynthia at just the right height for Belinda to begin her work. Her first step was to take out a plastic squeeze bottle and begin to spread a clear, thick liquid over the prospective dinner’s breasts. “New product I got from the Show,” Belinda explained to the group, which by now contained all of the excited and fascinated muffins. “It’s called Heat-Away, and acts as a heat shield on the areas I spread it on. This will keep her breasts from overcooking while the rest of her gets properly done. Wonderful device, ladies, and I’ll use a bit of it on her pussy, too.

“After all,” she continued, “the prime filet needs a delicate touch to really bring out the flavor.”

Massed muffin response: “O-o-o-o-h-h!”

Sharon smiled at the muffins’ reactions. Obviously, this was the first involuntary woman roasting most of them had ever seen. Well deserved, too, Sharon thought with a snort, given the fact that Cynthia was almost a prototype for the classic bitch. Well, bitches may be bitches, but they certainly tasted great.

After coating Cynthia with oil and seasonings, Belinda matter-of-factly forced her head down until the planned meal was doubled over in the pan, her heavy breasts flattened against her thighs and arms tied behind her back, then secured her in place with nylon straps attached to the sides of the roasting pan.

Turning the big pan on the table so Cynthia’s bottom faced the eagerly watching group, Belinda carried a big bowl of stuffing around so it was easy to reach. Packing stuffing into what looked like an oversized cake decorator with a large, long nozzle, she commented, “Now, since she’s to be oven roasted, ladies, I’ll pack both her ass and pussy.”

After removing the plug in Cynthia’s vagina, Belinda carefully inserted the long nozzle, then slowly squeezed the stuffing into the roast’s cunt until the soft bag was nearly empty. Removing the stuffing bag, Belinda then inserted a medium sized vibrator. Looking around, she explained with a twinkle, “Not only will this keep the stuffing in place, dears, she’ll get such a charge out of it she’ll marinate the stuffing as she cooks. Delicious!”

With bustling efficiency, Belinda removed the plug from Cynthia’s butt and began hand stuffing her gaping bottom hole, occasionally using a thick dowel to pack the stuffing in further. Every time she did, Cynthia yipped or squealed through her gag, squirming as much as she could. Sharon was enjoying the show, and looked around to see that the muffins were all staring in wide eyed silence, totally fascinated. After one last push with the dowel, Belinda followed it by inserting another vibrator. “There!” she announced. “She’s ready! Let’s get in her the oven, girls.”

Belinda held the oven door down while a bevy of eager hands transferred the pan with it’s tasty looking contents inside, arranging her so she was crosswise in the oven, every smooth curve sure to be visible through the glass door. Cynthia got wide eyed and screamed again as she was inserted, and Belinda patted her on the flank with a sympathetic air. “There, there, love, no need to be upset. I have the oven set so the heat comes up so gradually, you won’t feel a thing. In fact, you’ll even smell yourself cooking.”

“Oh,” a muffin next to Sharon moaned, “I can already smell myself cooking.”

“Here, love,” Belinda said soothingly, reaching around and turning on the vibrators, “these will help you feel better. I’ll look in on you in a little while and baste you.”

Cynthia continued to moan and scream after the oven door was shut, but the vibrators in her cunt and ass were already having an effect. The drug was magnifying the sensations emanating from her hips and her brain was becoming awash in sexual sensations. Soon enough, it was all she could think of and her sounds changed from fear to pleasure. One corner of her brain noted it was slowly getting hotter, but the feelings were so intense and there were starting to be such heavenly aromas swirling around that even the discomfort of her position was forgotten.

Watching the woman in the oven window squirm, Lorna commented to Sharon, “I normally prefer to watch a girl spit roast, but this one’s putting on quite a nice show.”

Sharon nodded, her eyes also on Cynthia. “She’s certainly getting the girls worked up. I bet if you stuck a finger up any one of them, it would go all the way in with no resistance and come out wet.”

Looking around, Lorna laughed. “No argument. Off hand, I’ll bet they’ll all be ready to pair off and hit the couches in a few minutes.”

Everyone continued to watch Cynthia’s movements for quite some time, most of them avidly, while Belinda watched with proprietary pride. Finally, she decided it was time to give the dear girl another basting. Opening the oven door, she drew the oven rack out with a pot holder and used a dipper to pour her special basting mixture over the bound and, by now, quite pink woman. Removing the ball gag, she asked Cynthia, “How are you doing, love? Everything fine?”

Cynthia strained her dazed eyes to focus on Belinda. In a slow, breathlessly gasping voice, she said, “Oh… I’m… great. In… fact I’m… just about… ooh… ooh… ooooohhhh… AHHHHHHHH! Jus’… just… fine. Oh, that was the biggest one yet… Will this keep up?”

“Oh, my yes, love,” Belinda replied briskly, squeezing Cynthia’s breasts and checking her cunt to ensure they were getting properly done, but not overdone. As she pressed the dull tines of a cooking fork against various fleshy parts to check the rest , she added, “By my estimate, you have several more hours to cook. The heat will continue to increase, but don’t let it bother you, love. The way you are popping off, you won’t even know when heat stroke gets you.”

“Oh,” Cynthia breathed in the slow woozy voice of someone barely conscious, “that’s nice. Make sure you cook me just right. I know I’m going to be delicious if you do. Do you think my cunt will taste good?”

Belinda nodded happily to the already delirious woman. “Of course you’ll be delicious, dear! And your cunt is one of the most tasty features about you, far superior to most I’ve seen. So juicy, too. Relax, I’m certain you’ll be wonderful.”

Cynthia nodded drunkenly, as Belinda replaced the gag with a willingly mouthed apple and put her back into the oven to continue on her merry way to the carving platter.

“Was it just me,” Lorna said softly to Sharon, “but was there something very goofy about that last conversation?”

Sharon snorted and squeezed Lorna tightly around the waist, pulling the plush soft body against her own. “Everything about Belinda is goofy, but what the hell. I still like her.”

The two smiled and laughed gently to each other.

“Belinda,” Vivian said loudly, “I don’t think she’s going to last much longer, and I don’t know about you, but I am getting extremely horny.”

The muffins cheered and applauded.

Belinda was of the same mind, but really didn’t want to lose sight of Cynthia’s by now very passionate wriggling. Between the drug and those vibrators, she was going out with a real bang. Good thing those straps were strong. Then Belinda had an idea. “Janet, dear,” she called sweetly, “would you please come here and bring a strap-on?”

That was the signal for the amorous atmosphere in the room to get even more amorous. While everyone else was pairing off, with an eye to keeping Cynthia and her beautifully squirming curves in view, a bright eyed and smiling Janet poised herself in front of Belinda. “That’s very nice, dear girl,” Belinda said, patting her cheek. “Why don’t you just bend over the kitchen island, where we can both watch Cynthia and I’ll do you? Where would you like me to put the shaft this time?”

“Oh, in my pussy, Belinda,” Janet breathed excitedly. “I think I’d just like a regular fuck, please.” As though any sex with Belinda was regular. Janet prepared herself for quite a pounding.

For her part, Belinda was quite happy. She had a nice, half roasted bitch squirming in the oven, a beautifully rounded naked woman bending over in front of her eagerly waiting to be fucked, and a room full of equally naked, happily passionate women pairing off for a wide variety of sexual encounters.

In all, she thought, it was simply a wonderful, homelike moment.