Belinda 09: Belinda and the B&D Sorority by Leo

Belinda and the Sorority by Leo

[img:2omqxqqs]http://forum.dolcettgirls.com/gallery/536_28_09_07_8_28_01.jpg[/img:2omqxqqs] Life, she decided yet again, was SO unfair. Here she was, with just the most tasty young coed already on a spit, and nobody to do the manual labor except herself. Of course, it was rather hard to get someone on a permanent basis. They kept ending up on the fire.

Take this sweet bouncy young thing. Perfectly acceptable as an assistant, and wonderful as a lover, but she was going to be far better as meat. She sighed again, remembering those young smooth fleshy thighs as they rested on her shoulders as she was eating the girl’s delectable pussy. And those plump round buttocks! They just looked so tasty bent over in front of her, trembling slightly with eagerness as she inserted the shaft of her strap-on in first one hole, then the other. That was quite the ride of her life. Tremendous orgasms.

Now though, the time had come for the young lady to meet her ultimate fate. She’d been careful to get the ventilated one piece spit through her at just the right angle, with just the proper amount of pressure to push the major organs aside and leave the girl alive. Women were just so much more tasty when they wriggled and squirmed alive over the heat. More fun, too.

Ah, here they were at the pit. She stopped pushing the little crane that was supporting the spitted girl and pushed the buttons to lift the spit further, then drop it on the spit supports on either side of the fire pit. Careful… didn’t want to jostle the girl unnecessarily. Possibly rupture something and have her bleed out. No, she thought as she looked in the girl’s terrified eyes, still alive. Some tears, and it was a shame what it was doing to her mascara.

She giggled at the thought of telling the meat to wear waterproof mascara for her roasting. Why bother with mascara anyway? Nobody to see her in this darkened basement.

Of course, the girl hadn’t known she was going to end up on a barbecue pit tonight. She’d dressed up like she always did, in pony tails and a cheerleader outfit, planning to get fucked silly.

And she had, which is why the spit had slid so easily up her cunt.

Now, she was on a pole over the low heat of the pit. She was quite appetizing, too. Those big thighs of hers were going to make wonderful steaks, and her buttocks were round and full of wonderfully plump meat. And as for her Prime Filet… Yum!

She left the girl’s breasts unbound. It was really more fun to watch them flop. Once she’d harvested them and cored them out, stuffed them and cooked them again at the proper temperature, they would be a delicious luncheon dish.

With real enjoyment, she watched the girl squirm, waggling her feet and opening and closing her hands in panicky fright as her body flexed against the pole shoved through it. Her expression was priceless, as much as could be seen with the spit jutting out of her mouth. Her eyes, wide, shocked, and hopelessly terrified, told the tale. The girl knew she was about to be cooked. She was meat, nothing more, and helpless.

She turned up the heat a little, enjoying the oily glistening curves of the hopelessly squirming girl. She even began to fondle her own nude body. A finger gently stroking between her thighs, rubbing her clit then just inside, was just the right touch. It was a pity the spit blocked the voicebox and wouldn’t let the girl scream. That would have been so nice.

With a pleased smile, she began to turn the hand crank on the spit, rotating the terrified, glistening, beautiful girl as she cooked.

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Cupping the large breasts dangling in front of her, Sharon squeezed gently on the left one, then the right, squirting milk into the stainless steel bowl. Rosa, nude on hands and knees along with several other girls on the milking platform, sighed with pleasure as she was being milked. Sharon knew that sound. She made it herself often enough when she was being milked. Milking was enjoyable. Not orgasmic unless someone was fooling around with a girl’s other end, you understand, but still enjoyable.

On either side, nude spit muffins were happily milking away with concentration and no little enjoyment. As Sharon worked, Rosa’s breasts went slowly from firm and milk filled to soft and squeezy. It took longer to drain Rosa than the other two spit muffins being milked with her - Rosa’s breasts were bigger - but Sharon finally got the last of the milk from the woman’s prominent nipples. Shaking them slightly to get rid of the last drops, she handed Rosa a towel then said, “That’s it, Rosa. You’re good for the day. Better go find a sports bra, aerobics are next.”

“Hokay,” the Mexican girl said as she got off the milking platform. Taking the bowl to empty her milk into the pasteurizer, she continued, “We been here a week, Mez Sharon. When Mez Belinda cook me?”

Sharon spread some skin lotion on her hands and began to rub down Rosa’s big breasts. That was to keep them from chafing when they were being milked. Kept the skin soft, too. “Oh, I don’t know, Rosa. You’re pretty new here. There are other girls ahead of you . We wouldn’t want you to make them lose their turn, they’d be upset.” Sharon gave one of Rosa’s large bare buttocks a pat and an appraising squeeze. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your chance. Now scoot out to the patio for the exercise session. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

“Hokay.” Sharon watched appreciatively as Rosa, every mouthwatering inch of her on full display, padded, jiggling and wobbling, out of the dairy room. Like every other woman at Belinda’s meat ranch and dairy, including Belinda, Rosa spent all of her time in the nude. In Rosa’s case, given her very full figure and spectacular breast and buttock development, that was a boon to all and sundry. Rosa had long blondish hair of that peculiar shade Hispanic blondes got, and a very pleasant face that reflected her personality. Rosa was a recent acquisition to the spit muffins. She and Ixinza were meat girls at a resort where Belinda and the gang had vacationed. The two had impressed everyone with their great (spectacular, in Rosa’s case) figures and pleasant personalities, so Belinda had purchased them and offered them a chance to become resident spit muffins. Now, given body and personality, Rosa was fast becoming a very popular person among the muffins

Sharon rather liked the Belinda’s policy of everyone being nude. After you got used to being bare, it was pretty comfortable. Since all the women except Belinda and Wendy - Sharon’s assistant and the only paid employee at the ranch - had their body hair removed, there were a lot of bare pussies on display, too. That made the view quite appetizing, since a bare pussy meant the girl was on the menu at some time in the future. Belinda liked to see what was in the larder.

Sharon’s own pussy fur was long gone, since she was originally captured as a future feast, but she was now Belinda’s permanent companion. No regrowing the hair, either, since the depilatory cream was permanent. Not a problem for Sharon; everyone knew she was not a prospective meal. On the other hand, a bare pussy was great nibbling when you felt like it and Sharon liked to see what was in the larder, too.

All in all, Sharon enjoyed life at the ranch, even if it meant she was designated herd cow, head muffin wrangler, and den mother to a bunch of fixated spit muffins whose major goal in life was to realize their screwy fantasy and become a delicious feast. To Sharon’s amazement, there was a constant supply of women like that.

Back when Belinda had tumbled to the fact that meat girls would come to you if approached properly (rather than run), she’d set up the meat ranch and dairy. Then she proceeded to recruit very nicely figured women as stock, the sole criteria being a good body for cooking and a Major Screw Loose. It still occasionally gave Sharon (who also gave fervent thanks she was out of the meat category) the willies that some women would chuck it all for a short life of unbridled sexuality at the ranch prior to becoming one with the spit.

Strange. Tasty, but strange.

Once Belinda had perfected the milk and meat hormones, things got even better. About half of the ten or so muffins in residence - as well as Sharon and Wendy - were on milk hormones so they would lactate. The other half were on a hormone cocktail that, among other things, thickened the meat sheath over the fat and glands of their breasts and greatly aided in hip development (i.e. pubic mound, prime filet and buttocks). A muffin on body development hormones looked like a Playmate of the Year with an expertly done boob job. Nice system, Sharon reflected. The naturally big breasted types got to give milk, while the others saw themselves develop into a frat boy’s wet dream.

Looking down, Sharon reflected with satisfaction that her own taut 38D-28-38 figure was entirely due to nature and her own hard work at exercising. She looked, she decided with satisfaction, like one of the hormone assisted muffins, but with breasts that bobbled when they weren’t full of milk.

Clipping the little gold chain to her nipples that marked her rank as the head girl, Sharon also took a moment of pleasure at the chain. It held a little bell (silenced, by her demand), the traditional sign of the lead cow. In addition, it was short enough to draw her breasts together and that was another source of enjoyment. The chain gave her cleavage even while nude, and a little support to her large breasts. The muffins were in awe of it.

Oh well, now for aerobics. Taking a clean sports bra from the bin in the hall, Sharon went out to join the group on the patio. The sports bras were a necessity for otherwise nude women because of the motions of the exercises. Built like muffins were, flopping during exercise was bothersome and distracting.

Belinda was sitting at a pool side table watching the aerobics session with enjoyment as she sipped her coffee and enjoyed the beautiful vistas of clear blue sky and deep blue ocean on this gorgeous South Florida morning. Her huge single story mansion was situated on a ocean side cliff just south of the Miami beaches, and a whim of nature had given her a small cut in the cliff face just at the ocean level that was a perfect and totally private beach. It needed to be private, she reflected, since the beach was a favorite playground for her muffins and the site of the occasional beach cookout. Wouldn’t do for strangers to come wandering by while a bunch of nicely figured nude women were playing, or engaged in cooking one of their own number. Privacy, Belinda reflected yet again, was one of the nicest features of the ranch.

Belinda was happily engaged in watching a group of quite well built naked women bob, dip and bend (as well as jiggle, joggle, and bounce {AUTHOR’S NOTE: I know that sounds like a firm of female TV lawyers, but it just came out that way.}) when Wendy, who was on phone duty, came out of the house and handed her the infernal implement.

“She says she’s your niece, Belinda. Jodi,” Wendy informed her.

“Thank you, dear one, she’s my youngest niece,” Belinda chimed in reply, then settled back to listen. It was only a moment before she was sitting up straight, then out of her chair pacing, saying things like, “Are you sure?” “When?” “Where?” and the ever-popular, “Why, that’s horrible!”

Wendy, a pleasantly plain dirty blonde in her mid twenties with a really nicely fleshed body, watched as Belinda began to pace in a very agitated fashion. Despite the obvious problem with which Belinda was confronted, Wendy was enjoying the scene. Belinda was in her early forties, true, but her firm figure was the kind a top figure photographer would kill to have in front of his camera, with smooth, glowing skin. Top off the fabulous body with beautiful face framed in short bobbed blonde hair, add in the fact that every part of Belinda jiggled when she was bustling (and she ALWAYS bustled), and the whole picture was enough to get a girl wet just from watching. Wendy could certainly feel herself responding. She hoped the exercise session wouldn’t tire out the muffins too much. She was developing a dire need to grab a willing one (and they were ALL willing) and jump into bed for a very intense quickie.

Belinda shut off the phone in her hand and said decisively, “Wendy, dear one, please get Sharon from the exercise class. I really need to talk to her as soon as possible.”

Thus it was that Sharon shortly found herself following Belinda’s bouncy buttocks down the hall to her room. “We have somewhere to go, tonight, dearest,” Belinda said over her shoulder as she bustled.

Sharon nodded, more than half of her attention on Belinda’s active bare ass as the cheeks went in multiple directions. Truth be known, it was nearly impossible for anyone not dead to avoid keeping the bulk of their attention on Belinda’s ass when she bustled, so Sharon could be forgiven. “This is kind of quick, isn’t it Belinda?” Sharon said abstractedly.

“Yes, dearest,” came the reply, “but the sorority initiation is tonight, and we need to be there as observers.”

“WHAT? A sorority initiation? What in the hell have you gotten us into this time, Belinda?”

Belinda stopped and placed a soothing hand on Sharon’s arm. “Oh, do relax, dearest. I have a very good reason. Jodi, my youngest niece just called. It seems there’s been a small rash of disappearing coeds on the University campus of late. Of course, a few girls go missing every year, for whatever reason. This IS Miami, after all.

“However, I’m convinced there’s a new predator operating in town, one I don’t know. Whoever it is has been taking these girls to cook. I really haven’t paid much attention, simply because there was no reason. Now, however, I have to act.”

“Why?”

“Two girls from Jodi’s sorority, the Beta Delta Pi, went missing last night. The sorority is hushing it up, and you’ll get a good understanding of why tonight. They don’t want any investigation. But we have to go to the sorority so I can speak directly with Jodi and look around. I need to find those girls before the predator can do more than cage them up or something similar. We’re fortunate in that an initiation is scheduled for tonight. It will allow us to visit without attracting undue attention, in case the predator is part of the sorority.” She started back down the hall and Sharon followed her into her bedroom.

“So we’re doing this because the predator got too close to Jodi? Why would two outsiders be admitted to a sorority initiation, anyway?” Sharon asked. “I never belonged to one, but I understand such things are pretty private.”

Belinda was rummaging in her closet. Opening a box, she looked in and commented, “Oh, here it is… Jodi isn’t the only reason, dearest. I’m a Beta Delt also, and I’m sworn to protect my little sisters.

“Now,” Belinda continued briskly, “we’ll have to be in sorority costume for the initiation tonight. I just found mine and I think I have one in your size, dearest, so I can pass you off as a sister from another chapter. One of my sisters gave it to me when she got married. Didn’t want it around the house… Husband and all that. …Ah, here it is, darling. The boots ought to fit you. What do you think?”

Taking a look at what Belinda pulled out of the second box, Sharon looked at her in horror. “Belinda, you have GOT to be kidding!”

Sharon was still saying that, or variations on the theme, as she finished tightening the laces in the changing room at the Beta Delt house. “Hush, dearest,” Belinda replied with a little shushing motion. “You need to wear the sorority costume, and in the mask, nobody will know you aren’t a sister.”

“Belinda,” Sharon finally said with exasperation, “only you could find a bondage and discipline sorority.” She then waved at the getup both of them were more or less wearing. “This is absolutely silly.”

“Oh please, dearest,” Belinda chimed. “This is the official costume of a Beta Delt. Besides, the girls love it.” The official Beta Delta Pi sorority costume was that of a classic dominatrix. Somewhat. A leather corset was the major item, tightly hugging the women from below their proud breasts to just above the hips. The corset had garters to hold up the black hose covering their legs. Calf-length platform stiletto heeled boots provided matching footwear. On a small gold chain around each neck, a little pendant had the Greek letters Beta, Delta, and Pi. Other than black domino masks, that was all either of the two women were wearing.

Bouncing around in corset, hose, and boots with bare boobs, pussy, and ass didn’t really bother Sharon given her normal state of dress, or lack thereof. It just looked and felt silly. On the other hand, Belinda said everyone would either be in this outfit or nude for the initiation. She explained that all pledges and first year members would be nude to indicate they were subs. After her first year, a girl could choose to be either a dominatrix or a sub, or both. As they walked down the steps into the sorority house basement, Sharon noted that quite a surprising number were subs, judging by the bare skin in view. Most of those were watching eight pledges, strung up by their wrists near the far wall. Part of the initiation, evidently.

Belinda confirmed the guess. “The girls hanging are pledges, dearest,” Belinda whispered. “The initiation is about to begin.”

Sharon wondered what counted as an “initiation” in a B&D sorority. She soon found out.

A slender blonde Belinda said was Jodi, the sorority president, began a speech to the pledges in very threatening tones, full of hair raising penalties for breaching sorority secrecy and the various horrible things that were going to happen to them tonight. “We actually won’t be doing much to the girls, lover,” Belinda said softly in Sharon’s ear. “When the time comes for our part of the ceremony, I’ll tell you what to do.”

They were part of this foolishness? Wonderful. Oh well, Belinda would tell her how to act. Apparently she didn’t have to say anything, just look menacing. Sharon decided she could handle that part easily.

Tuning out the speech full of the standard B&D threatening abuse, Sharon looked around. Hm. There was one older woman in a dom costume, really nicely figured with jet black hair cut in Bettie Page style. Good tits, great ass and full, delicious looking thighs. Dollars to doughnuts that was the housemother. Apparently she was in on the fun and games. Actually, Sharon reflected, things weren’t too bad. About like standard muffin play, and not as weird as some of them liked it. Wonder what was next?

The speech was over and the full members were gathered around the pledges, stroking the nervous looking girls with riding crops or squeezing a miscellaneous tit or buttock. Belinda was over with Jodi, deep in conversation. That was what they were here for, to find out the facts and circumstances of the missing coeds, not silly hi-jinks. Sharon heartily hoped that Belinda could get what she needed and they could blow this place.

What was this? Everyone, even the naked subs, was getting into strap-ons. Things were looking up. Belinda walked over and handed her a strap-on by the big plastic penis. “Put this on, lover,” she said. “You and I will go together, and we’ll start first as senior sisters and guests. You take one hole while I take the other. Once the girl has climaxed, we’ll move to the next one and swap holes. After everyone has finished, the pledges will be released and bent over that bar over there for spanking. After that, everyone will go upstairs for wine and canapés to celebrate the new members, circulate, and small talk. That’s when we’ll make our excuses. I’ve invited the whole group over to the ranch tomorrow for Amy’s roasting, too. There’re several of these girls I want to check out.”

Lubricating the shaft of her strap-on, Sharon figured she knew what to do from this point. “I’ve got the program, Belinda,” she said. “I wish this thing had a pussy plug, at least, ‘cause I’d like to get off myself. In fact, I wish it was one of Martha’s plug-ons. Once you get used to having the shaft held on just by plugs in your pussy and ass, these straps are a little cumbersome. We need to hit your bed when we get back. Where do we start?”

Pointing to an nervously apprehensive, slightly plump brunette on the near end, Belinda said, “With Cherise, here, dearest.”

Sharon spread the squirming girl’s round buttocks and examined her tight little bottom hole. Well, it was going to be a lot looser by the end of the night, judging by the amount of strap-on shafts bobbling around the room. “I’ll take this end, Belinda. You get her cunt. Ready to get started?”

Belinda bustled into the kitchen area to check on arrangements. Everything appeared satisfactory. There was Amy, on a platter on her belly with the other girls smearing spiced cooking oil over her smooth full curves. Belinda spread the woman’s buttocks and leaned over for a little peek. Yep, everything looked good. Giving Amy’s ass a friendly pat, she said, “You appear to be quite ready, Amy, open and juicy. You should be a lovely roast.” A friendly finger helped things along.

Amy looked over her shoulder and smiled brightly at Belinda. “I’ll try my best to put on a good show, Belinda. Thanks for oven cooking me. It’s a super fantasy of mine.” Amy proceeded to illustrate the point by closing her eyes in concentration, biting her lower lip, and squeezing her buttocks in a minor orgasm.

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine, dear,” Belinda said comfortingly as she turned to see about her guests. Hm. Everything appeared to be going well. The Beta Delts were mixing happily with the muffins, and where was… ? Oh, there she was. Belinda was quite interested in Ms. Hudson, the housemother. Fully nude - as was everyone else - the woman was quite attractive. Her big dark eyes with their knowing expression had been hidden last night by the mask, and were quite one of her best features. Of course, her delicious looking full figure was also very attractive. Belinda had plans for Ms. Hudson, involving the two of them and her bed.

All of the women gathered around to watch as Amy’s cunt and butt were stuffed, enjoying the squirms, wriggles and little noises the girl was making. Once she was on her back and her wrists tied to her crossed ankles, electrostimulators were inserted into her pussy and ass, then she was ready to go into the oven. Amy willingly mouthed the small apple Martha gave her as her pan was being put on the oven rack, then settled happily down to feel the heat rise, start to smell herself cooking, and enjoy the waves of orgasms that were beginning to sweep up from her hips.

Sharon was watching Amy squirm and convulse, enjoying the flexing of delicious curves, when she felt a presence at her side. It was Cherise, the pledge from last night. Doe eyed and slightly timid, the girl reached out a tentative hand and placed it on Sharon’s arm. “I loved what you did, last night,” she said softly. “I’ve never had anyone in my butt before. You were the first, and the best I had all night. Will you do me again, here?”

Sharon reached out and gathered the girl in. “Sure, honey,” she said pleasantly. “Let’s relax and enjoy the show Amy’s putting on. After that, I’ll be happy to plow your rear end.”

Cherise snuggled her nude soft body as close as she could to Sharon’s bare flesh and happily began to watch Amy squirm. The sounds she was making were getting louder, too. Cherise was getting a tingle in the cunt from just listening.

After a while, Belinda opened the glass oven door and pulled out the rack on which Amy was cooking (nicely, too). As she basted the woman, Belinda used her free hand to pull the apple momentarily from Amy’s mouth. “How are you doing, love?” she asked.

Amy gasped out a reply. “Uh… uh… oh, Belinda, wonderful! I’m so hot and everything is just so exciting! I’m really coo-o-o-oking…”

Dipping her brush into the oil pot again, Belinda tickled the tip of Amy’s nose. “How do you like that, dear? It’s made from pussy juice, and some of the juice is yours. Doesn’t it smell wonderful?”

The scent, along with the basting brush strokes and the stimulation in her cunt and ass drove Amy higher. “Ahhh… yes… Belinda! It smells so good! P-p-please, I… ah… want you to have my pussy.”

Belinda nodded with a bright smile and began to replace the apple. Before she could however, Amy piped up again. “Ah-h-h-h… how will you eat it? Will you… ah… start with the inner lips… ungh… or the outer lips?”

“Oh, outer lips, dear. Your pussy is quite plump and you have so much tender meat there. It will be a gourmet delight.”

Amy responded with, “Ungh… ungh… unahhhhhh!” Then she convulsed with a massive orgasm. Belinda thoughtfully let her finish, then replaced the apple and pushed her back into the oven to finish cooking.

“Talking to the meat as she cooks,” Cherise said to Sharon from her place tightly pressed to the older woman. “That is just SO cool!”

Sharon slowly shook her head with an ironic look, celebrating the goofy conversation just finished. “Happens around here all the time.”

Cherise’s eyes widened at this evidence of exciting culinary happenings at Belinda’s ranch. She began to stroke her own belly as she slowly rubbed her thighs together in excitement.

It took a while, but Amy finally succumbed to the heat and that signaled the start of other activities. Cherise found herself bent over the kitchen island, allowing her to see Amy cook while Sharon pumped her ass with a plug-on that felt like a telephone pole. Between thundering orgasms, she couldn’t remember being happier or more excited.

It was with some relief that Sharon watched the last of the Beta Delts and their housemother pile into cars the next morning. Fun to have around in small doses, she decided. On the other hand, she was full up to here with the choppy, up-and-down, nasal, pseudo-Valley Girl accents most women that age affected these days.

Seeing Sharon, still nude, watching their departure, Cherise stopped before she got in the car and, smiling over her shoulder, waggled her blue jean clad bottom at her. “I think you made a conquest, dearest,” Belinda remarked from beside Sharon.

“Marvelous,” Sharon growled dryly. “She’ll be over here and on her belly every chance she gets from here on. That girl has developed a serious hang up about anal sex, and I’m the one she wants it from.”

“Possibly,” Belinda nodded judiciously as she watched the cars depart. “Even probably. I’m not too keen on her making a pest of herself around here unless she wants to join the herd as a spit muffin. You have to admit, she DOES have excellent meat potential.

“Well, that’s for the future,” Belinda said decisively. “We have something to do today. We’re going to find those missing girls.”

Sharon looked at her. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, if finding the girls in a hurry was so important, why did we waste a whole day entertaining that bunch?”

Belinda smiled. “It wasn’t a waste, dearest. I found out some things I wanted to know. And I also decided where I want to look next. I’m not worried about the girls yet. I’m reasonably certain they haven’t been butchered, cooked, or offered for sale yet. I had Antonio Montero and his boys put the word out for me, and none of the regular buyers will touch them now.”

Sharon nodded. With the dangerous, muscular Montero and his equally imposing assistants doing the talking, nobody with any sense would risk getting on Belinda’s bad side. Getting on Belinda’s bad side wasn’t conducive to a long, comfortable life in any case, but it never hurt to have breathing, deadly eyed evidence looking you in the face when you needed reminding of the fact. Best guess, nobody outside of the predator was going to touch those girls now.

And Belinda was going to handle the predator personally. Sharon sighed. Here we go again.

Shrugging with resignation, Sharon followed the pleasantly bare curves of her companion/boss into the house, but was brought up short by a fulminating voice in a Spanish accent. It was Rosa, storming into the back of the house waving her arms and sounding off - loudly. “Bang you ina butt! Bang you ina butt! Bullshit! Nobody know I gotta pussy?!”

Sharon put out a hand and stopped the furious Mexican girl. “Hang on, Rosa. What’s got you so upset?”

Turning to Sharon and catching sight of Belinda at the same time, Rosa immediately got her temper under rein. She’d been a maid for a long time before being sold as meat, then ending up as one of Belinda’s spit muffins. The domestic/mistress relationship reactions were still there. One didn’t show anger around the mistress, i.e. Belinda.

“Miz Belinda, Miz Sharon,” Rosa began, “I just get tired of always everyone wanna do me ina butt! Sometimes I just feel like a little straight fuck or sumpin’.”

Sharon could sympathize with the girl to some extent, although Rosa also had a preference for anal sex. That was not surprising. Rosa’s body was nicely toned and very round, but she DID have a whopping pair of knockers and a fabulously shaped, supersized ass. It was a magnet for almost everyone. On the other hand, a girl DID like to be appreciated for something other than her butt. Her pussy, for instance.

Belinda had been following the same chain of thought, and applied a quick soothing remedy. “Dear, I fully understand. Why don’t we get one of the girls to give your pussy a nice licking? And maybe a good fuck, too? Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“I can handle that, Ms. Belinda.” The accent was softer than Rosa’s but still there. Ixinza was a tall, mocha toned Creole from Puerto Rico. She was also the proud possessor of a spectacular body, if a little more evenly built than Rosa. She and Rosa had come back together as souvenirs from the last vacation, and were now enjoying life as spit muffins. Like every other muffin, they fully expected to end up as dinner, and were happily anticipating the fact.

Belinda shook her head. “No, dear, I have something else I want you to do today. You’re going out with Sharon and me. We’re going looking for someone and there’s something only you can do. I think Martha would be happy to help Rosa.”

“Somebody mention me?” Martha had followed the walking uproar, a.k.a. Rosa. It still gave Sharon a bit of the shivers every time she looked at Martha, who strongly resembled a younger and far better built edition of the popular (and highly detested by Sharon) home crafts maven. Martha put a comforting arm around Rosa and turned her towards the bedrooms. “I’ll take care of the problem,” she said over her shoulder as they were leaving. “I know just the best way to do it.”

Given that it was Martha, Sharon thought, she had no doubt the woman knew exactly the right way to handle, lick, and/or fuck a pussy. Given that Martha was a hell of a lay in her own right, Rosa was in for a good time.

Problem settled. Now what was this bit about Ixinza accompanying them?

“I’ll explain as we go, dearest,” Belinda told her. “Ixinza, go find a bikini from the storage hamper, and a cover up from the clothes closet. We’re going to a downtown hotel.”

Belinda stopped a moment as an idea struck her. “Oh, Ixinza, please come to the bedroom before you don your clothing. There’s something else we need to do before you get dressed.”

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Like many hotels in the South Beach area the Hotel Trenda was located in a refurbished art deco building and had it’s pool on the roof. Sharon settled her barely bikini clad lush body onto a pool lounger and began reviewing facts.

First, they were here at this particular oh-so-fashionable hotel because: a. Here was where the girls from the University hung out, to the delight of the hotel management. b. Here was where the two missing Beta Delts had vanished. Ergo… it was here that they had the best chance of finding the predator that took them.

Second, the best way to catch a predator was the old fashioned way, quite popular among the British in India for catching tigers - stake out a goat. Belinda was on one end of the pool, in a bikini even smaller than hers, if such a thing existed (and it barely did on Belinda). She was here in the middle, giving her a different vantage point. They were the hunters.

Ixinza (also in a daringly tiny thong bikini) was over there on the other side. She was the goat.

Now for the predator.

As the afternoon wandered on at a relaxed pace, Sharon was occasionally bothered by pests, as was any jungle hunter. In this case, a number of specimens of the dreaded Miami Metrosexual. All were summarily bounced as they deserved. Sharon could smell a predator a mile away, and these poor jokers weren’t it.

Ixinza was getting attention, too, but nothing serious. Her dumb “doan speeka da englis” act seemed to be working on the Anglos, and what she said to the Cuban guys probably didn’t bear repeating. At least, they all left hurriedly.

Sharon was smiling wryly as yet another of Ixinza’s suitors departed in a huff, when she sensed another female body settle into the lounger next to hers. As The Jungle Grew Ominously Quiet, Sharon carefully didn’t look. She could sense the feeling, after so long with Belinda. The predator had arrived. And it appeared she was the chosen prey, not Ixinza.

Hm. Interesting.

She smoothly turned her head and gave the woman a long, slow, appraising look, certain the message in that look would be received loud and clear. She was blonde, with the standard tiny bikini that barely covered some spectacular scenery. Yep, this girl wasn’t the usual slender hard belly that infested the area. Oh, no, no, no. She had some delicious curves.

The blonde returned the frank appraisal with knowing smile and a detailed appreciative study of Sharon’s taut 38D-28-38 figure from head to toe. The eyes and the smile told Sharon that here was one that knew the game and relished it. Best start playing, then. “Welcome to the chair next to mine,” Sharon said in a sultry voice. “Judging from what I see, you’re quite welcome to it. I’m Sharon. And who’s the neighbor I want to get to know?”

That brought another knowing smile. Sharon knew perfectly well she was being judged as meat, and also was fully confident the woman had no idea Sharon knew what was happening. “Tanya. I’m assuming this seat isn’t being saved.”

“Only for you.”

“Hmmm, it appears the neighbors are friendly, not to mention deliciously beautiful,” Tanya continued with a soft erotic tone.

That last statement could be taken several ways. It was also a test. If the prey knew what the woman really wanted, she’d react negatively and the predator would go hunt an easier victim.

That wasn’t going to happen. Sharon wanted Tanya in close. Close enough to grab. A glance out of the corner of her eye told Sharon Belinda was alert to the scene unfolding across the pool. Another casual sweep of the area, done as a ploy in the mating game, told Sharon Ixinza was still unbothered. Good enough. Let’s catch a predator.

The two women, Sharon and Tanya, began a verbal fencing match with a subtext that positively dripped sexual undertones. It was an old game. Sharon had heard Belinda do this before and knew all the proper responses. And they were working, too. Tanya was nearly licking her lips. And her eyes were on Sharon’s hips and legs, not her breasts. Meat, not sex, was the idea here.

For a moment, Sharon thought of Belinda and how she caught a bitch. Bitch was the proper term, too. Belinda only captured the really bitchy type of woman to cook. She considered it a public service, cleaning the gene pool as it were. Bitches were also never missed when they vanished. Great to cook, with a lot of action, and much less trouble to make vanish. This broad was apparently not so selective, although the conversation revealed Tanya was coming out of the closet as a first class bitch. Great!

The dialogue continued to be dueling innuendoes, dripping with sex, until Sharon finally mentioned she’d left something in her hotel room, and would Tanya like to help her look for it? Tanya would. In fact, Tanya almost leapt out of her chair to go help her new good friend Sharon. The program was obvious. Wild sex in the room, then an offer to come home with Tanya and enjoy her more extensive collection of toys, etc. Standard plan.

As they got up, Sharon casually reached into her pool bag and palmed an auto-injector, filled with a strong hypnotic. Slap it anywhere close to the neck, a needle shot out and into the victim, and the woman would be a zombie in a matter of seconds. Convenient little gadget. Belinda had used one any number of times, although she favored the good old fashioned physical grab when circumstances permitted, which these didn’t. They needed to get this woman into the car with a minimum of fuss.

They started to walk towards the elevator and Sharon saw Belinda get up, drifting in the same direction. As the elevator doors opened, Belinda casually joined the pair. Tanya took note of Belinda’s spectacular, nearly nude body (She was human.) but seemed a bit nervous, and kept eyeing Belinda as the three entered the empty car.

Hm. Tanya probably knew who Belinda was. Afraid of the competition. Good common sense reaction, that.

Once inside the car, Tanya’s attention was still on Belinda. Good. Sharon reached up and popped the injector into the side of Tanya’s neck. When she yelped and tried to touch the spot, both Belinda and Sharon grabbed her. They held the struggling woman for a few floors, then relaxed as she went under, simply standing there compliantly.

When the door opened on whichever floor Sharon had randomly chosen, she hit the button again for the basement garage. Once there, it was a quick walk to Belinda’s white BMW, the stealth car of Miami (Try counting all of them some time. You’ll need a calculator.). Nobody around, and into the trunk went a gagged and cuffed Tanya.

Job well done. Time to get Ixinza.

Once back at the pool, however, things took another turn. “Dearest,” Belinda said softly in her normal musical tones as she scanned the pool area, “we may have a problem. Ixinza appears to be gone. It looks like there was another predator.”

NEXT POST

Belinda and the Sorority, Part 2 by Leo

Once back at the pool, however, things took another turn. “Dearest,” Belinda said softly in her normal musical tones as she scanned the pool area, “we may have a problem. Ixinza appears to be gone. It looks like there was another predator.”

Sharon was immediately concerned. Ixinza was one of their little family, muffin or not. Still, Sharon was calm. Fix the problem, not scream about it, was her life motto. “Okay, Belinda. How do we find her? I know you well enough to know you have something up your nonexistent sleeve.”

Belinda nodded and began moving with decisive speed. “Get your things, dearest, and put on your shirt. Let’s get the car. We’re going for a ride.”

Shortly, a white BMW boiled out of the hotel’s basement parking garage, holding two beautiful women attired in long sleeve men’s shirts, nearly nonexistent bikinis, high heeled sandals, some jewelry and nothing else. Oh yes, the trunk held another woman, also wearing a minimal bikini augmented by cuffs and a gag, who happened to be mightily stoned at the moment. All three set off to find Ixinza.

Belinda opened the glove compartment. “Here, dearest,” she said, handing a device with a small screen on it to Sharon, “we can follow Ixinza with this.”

Sharon looked interestedly at the glowing point of light, moving steadily over a grid of streets quite recognizable as South Beach Miami. “Electronic tracking button?” she asked, remembering her James Bond movies.

Belinda nodded. “Coupled with GPS, lover. One of my nephews is an electrical engineer. He made me some quite interesting gadgets that I think will come in handy today.”

Sharon nodded. “So where’s the button, Belinda? If it’s on Ixinza’s bikini, it’ll be gone the moment her captor takes it off and finds the thing. I wouldn’t give two cents for her chances after that, too.”

“Quite true, dearest,” Belinda answered, one eye on the road as she smoothly negotiated the traffic and the other on the tracker screen. “That’s why she isn’t wearing the button. Look in the glove compartment and you’ll find a little egg shaped thingy.”

Sharon did as she was told, holding what looked like a miniature grey plastic egg. “Okay, now what?”

“That’s what Ixinza’s got. She’s not wearing it, she has it in her.”

Sharon still wasn’t totally comfortable. “Up her pussy? Fine, until the predator sticks a finger up her or tries fucking her.”

Belinda laughed. “That’s why it’s in her ass, dearest.”

“Oh.”

They followed Ixinza’s electronic signature until it stopped in a quiet suburb near the University. Belinda pulled over to the curb within easy view of a house. “We’ll wait here for a while, dearest. I want the person we’re hunting to feel comfortable and possibly reveal themselves further.” Sharon nodded. After all, Belinda was the expert hunter, here.

There were several notable incidents during the next hour. In one case, a woman walked out from behind the house they were watching, then, seeing the car, started to walk over. There was something familiar to Sharon about the woman, but she couldn’t place her for a moment. Then she realized the woman was Cicily Abbot, from the Miami Junior Women’s Club. No wonder she couldn’t place her. She’d never seen the broad with her clothes on!

“Oh, hello, Belinda,” Cicily called in a chatty fashion. Sharon, being what Cicily thought of as hired help, was beneath her notice. “Fancy meeting you here. You looking at the house too?”

“Actually, dear,” Belinda said in a musically sweet voice, “we’re simply waiting for someone to arrive, then we’re going to the pool.”

Cicily was leaning in the window now, and her eyes were feasting on Belinda’s mostly naked body, with more than a few glances directed Sharon’s way. “Well! Uh.. erm… That is, this house is listed as rental property, and I’m thinking about making an offer to the owner. Good investment, you know.”

Belinda nodded knowingly, then engaged Cicily in chatty conversation about the housing market for a few more moments. After Cicily left, shooting the occasional glance backward at the car’s occupants, Sharon remarked, “That particular excuse smells to high heaven. Think she’s the one?”

Belinda watched the nicely build brunette stroll off, then replied, “I’m not quite certain, dearest. Cicily certainly enjoys cooking women at the Club’s meetings, but I’m not sure she has it in her to strike out on her own. We’ll have to see. Hm… Janine Latchmuller is her best friend. I wonder if she’s nearby, too?”

The next interruption was more eventful.

Sharon glanced idly around, to note a man coming out of one of the houses. Young go-getter type, and obviously another of the dreaded Miami Meterosexuals. Strolling over in a cocksure manner, he leaned down and leered into the window. “Well, ladies, something I can help you with? Perhaps, if you’re waiting, you’d like to come over to my place and kill time with a few drinks.”

Sharon was preparing to blast him where he stood, but the creep suddenly levitated. A look out the window and up revealed that he was being held off the ground by the collar of his designer shirt. The holder was a character that stood out even in Miami, the national home of characters.

“You will NOT pester-r-r my FR-R-RIENDS! IS that UNDER-R-RSTOOD?” The accent was thickly German, with rolling Rs. The owner of said accent was heavy, actually fat, had a mustache, and dressed in - as near as Sharon could tell - the full uniform of a World War Two German Air Force sergeant, complete with steel helmet, and - of all things in Miami - a uniform overcoat!

The apparition shook the offending - and thoroughly unnerved - young man, then released him to scamper away. Then he faced the two women in the car and saluted. “Ser-r-rgeant Shultz! AT your SER-R-RVICE!”

Belinda chimed happily, “Max! How nice to see you!” It figured she’d know him.

“Ach, Belinda, it’s wonder-r-rful to see you her-r-re in my neighbor-r-rhood!” Sharon wasn’t too sure how to react, so she smiled tentatively.

The ensuing conversation was between old friends, and (Sharon decided) a complete verbal hash, given Max’s accent and Belinda’s slightly off kilter comments. Actually, Sharon thought after a few moments, she wished she had it on tape.

After mentioning he had to call a “Colonel Hogan”, Max made his excuses and marched off, with the promise that Belinda would invite him to her next cook out. Sharon simply shook her head. Max at the ranch? In full uniform? Why not?

“He’s actually a wonderful artist, dearest,” Belinda said, to Sharon’s mild amazement. “I’m sure he’ll find any number of the girls to pose for him.” Right!

Getting out of the car, Belinda added, “Now, dearest, I believe it’s time to investigate that house. Rental, hm. Interesting.”

Following Belinda’s distinctive walk up the driveway, Sharon remarked, “Belinda, have you given any thought to the fact that here we are, dressed in nothing but shirts, bikinis, and high heels, and walking up to knock on the door? Won’t someone think that’s just a tad… well, unusual?”

Belinda waved a hand dismissively. “Oh pooh, dearest. This is Miami.”

There was no argument to that, so Sharon had to shrug and follow.

Belinda bustled up to the front door and knocked. Knocked again. And again. “Not answering,” Sharon said dryly.

“No problem, dearest,” Belinda replied and bustled back to the car, returning with what looked like a slightly larger than usual garage door opener.

“Another little gadget my nephew built,” Belinda explained as she pointed it at the closed garage door and pushed the button. “It automatically runs through all possible codes for garage doors as long as you hold the button down.” After a few moments, the garage door rolled up, to reveal a late model sports car. “Ah, there we are, and the car owner is at home.”

Sharon was suddenly on the alert. “And knows we’re here from the noise. Let’s be a little careful, shall we, Belinda?”

Belinda nodded cheerfully, then moved into the garage. Sharon noted that Belinda’s high heels were suddenly no longer clip clopping as she walked. In fact, she was moving without a sound. Not up to that level of skill, Sharon slipped off her own shoes to stay quiet.

A cautious search of the house revealed it to be totally bare. No occupants, no furniture. Sharon opened a door off the kitchen and found steps leading down. “Basement. Want to bet Ixinza’s down there?” she whispered.

Belinda smiled and answered softly, “Of course she is, dearest.” She headed down the stairs, very, very quietly.

They were nearly at the base of the stairs in the dark basement when they heard the car in the garage peeling off. Sharon looked up in annoyance. “Damn! Must have been hiding! Now we have to do this all over again.”

Belinda flipped on a light and said placidly, “Possibly not, dearest. Now isn’t this a nice arrangement?”

What the main house lacked, the basement made up for. It was fully finished with a modern kitchen, a huge meat locker, a large indoor electric barbecue pit, and a variety of comfortable furnishings. Sharon’s eyes were drawn to two big cages against the far wall, covered with canvas tarps. Female voices were already coming from under the cloth.

“Who’s there?” “Who’s that?” Two voices were young, female, and had that damned valley girl coed accent.

“Ms. Belinda, Ms. Sharon!” That one was Ixinza.

Removing the cloth from the cages revealed two naked women, obviously University coeds, in one. The other held Ixinza. Sharon ignored the constant flow of irrelevant questions and panicky exclamations from the coeds while she searched for the keys to the cage locks. Ixinza, sensibly, simply conversed with Belinda in relatively quiet tones.

Unable to find the keys, Sharon found the next best thing, a large bolt cutter. Two mighty snips later, all three women were standing free outside the cages. The noise from the coeds still continuing, Sharon applied immediate action. “SHUT UP!!!”

Peace returned.

Belinda hugged both coeds in a kindly fashion. “I believe you are both from the Beta Delta Pi sorority,” she said in kindly tones. Two (faux) blonde heads, wide eyes fixed on Sharon, nodded obediently. “Excellent, ladies,” Belinda continued. “I’m one of your big sisters. We’re here to take you home. First, did you see your captor?’

Two (faux) blonde heads shook in negatives. “She wore a mask and it was always dark.”

“A woman?” Belinda asked sharply. “Are you sure?”

“It was a woman, Ms. Belinda,” Ixinza broke in. “She made me eat her pussy after I woke up. But she still wore a mask.”

“Hm. Ate her pussy…” Belinda looked thoughtful.

In what seemed idle curiosity, Belinda opened the meat locker and looked in. Then she called to Sharon, “Dearest, look here.”

As Sharon looked into the locker, Belinda said, “Lover, she’s obviously had a girl or two cooked up here before, but what I see is very interesting.”

Puzzled, Sharon looked. “Okay, a couple of thighs, arms, ribs… except for the thighs, none of the very best cuts… oh! Belinda, all of them are wrapped in butcher’s plastic.”

Belinda nodded. “Yes, dearest, and each of the packages is dated, presumably the date when the girl was butchered. The latest one was four days ago, but - yes! - the earliest is only a week before that. Don’t you find that interesting?”

Sharon, as always, returned things to a practical level. “Interesting. Look, Belinda, let’s get the girls out of here and these two back to their sorority house. We can figure out something else to catch that predatory broad later.”

“Oh, I quite agree we need to return these ladies, dearest,” Belinda responded. “But I already know what I’m going to do next.

“Girls,” she said, turning to the coeds, “I’m inviting your whole sorority to my place tomorrow for a cookout. There will be several other guests there, but please tell Ms. Hudson everyone, including her, is invited. We’ll be cooking someone special.”

Cookout? Tomorrow? Sharon was only mildly puzzled. Belinda was Up To Something Again. Best go along and see what happened. Besides, if the someone special was Tanya, Sharon was going to enjoy this one immensely. Still, Tanya couldn’t be the one they were looking for, could she? Or could she?

Things were well underway when Sharon surveyed the scene at the house the next day. Of course, every woman in the place was nude, which didn’t seem to bother the Beta Delts. Given the costumes the doms wore, Sharon figured all they’d miss was some nylon and leather in a few spots, anyhow. There was the quite tasty Ms. Hudson, talking to Janine and Cicily. Towards the patio, Anne-Marie, newly arrived from Dolcett, California was leading a small gaggle of girls carrying a large cooking cauldron. It looked like plans were in the works to fire up the small cooking pit and start making some girl sauce to baste the “someone special”, whoever she was. Given that the group with Anne-Marie was composed of Rosa, a coed, and two other muffins, the sauce ought to be quite juicy and flavorful. Rosa alone could flavor the whole soup pot if she really got worked up.

Cherise was there in the gaggle in the middle of the living room. She caught Sharon’s eye, grinned, and waggled her nicely upholstered naked bottom at her. It looked like Sharon was going to be banging butt a good bit, today.

Another group in the living room made Sharon smile. Seated in the middle of a highly attentive female audience of muffins and coeds was Max, still in full uniform, without the overcoat but still wearing that damned steel helmet. Sharon wondered where that would lead. If she interpreted Max’s thick accent correctly, he was in the middle of telling some very hilarious stories to the girls. Given the laughter, they were enjoying it, too.

Helen, one of the muffins, approached her. “Sharon, I’ve had a great idea!” Oh boy, what now?

Helen plunged into her new idea enthusiastically. “How about the next time we tell a girl she’s going to the kitchen, we don’t just tell her and lead her off? I mean, that’s so NORMAL, know what I mean? Why don’t we gather everybody, herd them into a corner, squealing and packed together, then jerk the selected girl out like she was being grabbed by some kind of woman eating barbarians? It would be so much fun! We’d all get to run around and get chased and make all kinds of noise and everything and squeal a lot and act like we were frightened and get in a little grab ass while things were confused and…”

One of the other girls said, “Ooohhh, that sounds like fun!”

Sharon looked at both of them with a flat disgruntled expression. First, she HATED a bunch of squealing women, playing like they were terrified or not. Second, she knew perfectly well exactly who was going to be doing the “herding” and “chasing” and “capturing”. Too much work. “No.”

To offset the gathering disappointment she could see working itself into a full fledged pout, Sharon made a counter suggestion. “Look, I’ll think about it, but don’t get your hopes up. Instead, we’ve got these coeds all over the place, and you and a few of the girls aren’t busy at the moment. Why don’t I set up a volleyball game between you and the Beta Delts down on the beach?”

A few enthusiastic squeals and some hand clapping were the answer, so off they went.

Sharon met Belinda as she got back from the beach. “Dearest,” Belinda called, “would you come down to the basement with me? We’re about to perform an experiment I want you to watch.” Experiment? What now? Knowing Belinda, it ought to be a doozy.

It was.

The first thing she saw was one of the patio platforms had been brought down to the basement. On it, five women were tied on their shoulders and knees, asses high in the air, faces towards the wall. From Sharon’s position, all she could see were some really nice butts, thighs, calves and feet, not to mention five plump pussies nestled between equally meaty thighs. Looking down the line, Sharon couldn’t recognize anyone until she got to the far right and… “Hi, Martha.

“Belinda, WHAT in the hell are you doing now?”

Belinda was also surveying the scene calmly. “I’m setting up a line up, just like they do in those police shows, dearest. Since the only thing Ixinza saw was the woman’s pussy, that’s what she’ll use to identify her.”

Sharon didn’t know if she should be amazed or amused. “A pussy lineup?! Belinda, you’ve done some dotty things, but this takes the cake! And why Martha?”

Belinda airily waved her hand. “Oh, lover, I asked Martha to be in it because that’s what the cops always do. They put in a ringer to keep things honest.”

Sharon had walked around to the front of the group to see who was displaying their cunt for examination. Slightly to her surprise, the first in line was Ms. Hudson. Tanya was next to her, then Janine and Cicily.

The group had been suspiciously quiet, although everyone but Martha was wriggling and squirming. The silence was caused by spit guides inserted into each woman’s mouth and down her esophagus. A spit guide was a long wide plastic tube with a bell mouth, slotted so the woman could breathe. It was inserted when the cook wanted to use a one piece spit. The guide caught the point as it came up the stomach and smoothly led it through the tricky way up the esophagus and out the woman’s mouth so nothing important got punctured and the spitting was perfect. In this case, since it blocked the vocal cords, it also kept all the women silent and with their necks extended.

“We gathered them up, removed their body hair, and gave them all deep enemas while you were down on the beach, dearest,” Belinda explained. “I decided we’d simply spit the guilty party once she was chosen, so I wanted them ready.”

Sharon nodded. It was a plan. A bit crazy, but a plan. “Ok, Belinda, but what about the ones that aren’t chosen?”

Belinda looked knowingly smug. “Just wait, dearest, you’ll see.”

Then she turned and called out. “Ixinza, would you and the other two girls come out? We’re ready, now.”

Wendy brought out the three women. The two coeds immediately looked like they were going to say something, but Belinda put her finger to her lips in a silencing gesture. “Now, ladies,” she said, “please be quiet. Ixinza gets to speak first, then you’ll have your chance.”

Ixinza carefully looked up and down the line, then pointed to the far right. “That’s Martha, Ms. Belinda,” she said with conviction. “But the rest of these…”

Ixinza walked over to the line of women, directly to the one on the left. Putting her hands on the outside of the woman’s bare thighs, she leaned over and stuck her tongue into the nicely framed pussy. Taste test. Leaning back, she said, “This is the one, Ms. Belinda. She captured me.”

The two coeds couldn’t be quiet any longer. “That’s her!” “That’s Ms. Hudson.”

Belinda walked over and took Ixinza’s place behind Laci Hudson. Patting an upraised buttock, she said, “Very well, ladies. We’re going to spit Ms. Hudson for today’s dinner. Wendy, would you and the girls please release the other four. Leave Tanya cuffed, of course, but there’s no reason she can’t watch while we spit Ms. Hudson. In fact, everyone can watch. later, Cicily and Janine, we’ll finish the little conversation we started before you were bound into position… in my bedroom. Would you like that?”

Cicily and Janine hadn’t been released yet, so Sharon wasn’t sure of their answers, let alone what the conversation had been about, but they found a way to signal their thoughts. Sharon supposed that if you couldn’t nod your head or say yes, wagging your butt was a good substitute, which both women were energetically doing.

Meanwhile, Belinda oiled her index finger and inserted it far up Laci’s butt, twisting it around to loosen the sphincter muscle. Laci figured the next thing she was going to feel up her ass was the spit, but Belinda didn’t do things that way. Instead, Wendy handed Belinda a squeeze bulb with a foot long nozzle. The nozzle was inserted completely up Laci’s ass, and Belinda squeezed the bulb with firmness. Sharon knew that was Belinda’s patented sex hormone. She wanted Laci worked up for the cooking. Orgasms always made the meat taste better.

Finally, Belinda removed the nozzle and replaced it with a thick vibrator. Laci was happy enough that she still wasn’t feeling the spit up her ass, but she knew that was coming soon. Right now, she was wishing that she was far, far away and had never heard of the Beta Delta Pi sorority and its tasty little coeds.

Wendy and one of the helping muffins came out of the storage area carrying a nine foot long ventilated carbon spit. “Oh, thank you, darlings,” Belinda said. “That’s just the perfect thing! Now we can get Ms. Hudson spitted and on to cook.”

About time, Sharon thought.

With experienced proficiency, Belinda popped the vibrator out of Laci’s ass and, holding the spit at the proper angle, inserted the point in her gaping bottom hole. Once the pole was about eight inches in her, Belinda stopped and studied the squirming woman. “My dear,” she said, “you simply must learn to relax more.”

Sharon snorted. As though any woman could relax with a sharp pointed shaft eight inches up her ass and the prospect of having the thing shoved completely through her.

Ignoring Sharon’s sarcastic snort, Belinda thought for a moment, then signaled Ixinza. “Dear, would you come over here an please give Ms. Hudson’s pussy a good licking? I think she’s ready for it and it will help things immensely if she’s in the middle of a good orgasm when I continue pushing.”

Ixinza knelt down and slid between Belinda and the plump thighs framing Laci’s delicious pussy. Then she applied all of her natural talent, the skill learned from her weeks at the ranch, and her rather long tongue. It was no time at all before Laci convulsed in a strong orgasm. As soon as Laci’s muscles contracted, Belinda pushed the spit into her in a strong, smooth movement, using the tight anus as a guide and catching the end of the spit guide inside her, pushing the tip several feet out of the woman’s mouth.

Tanya had watched the entire process in wide eyed silent horror, knowing she was watching her fate. Everyone else was fascinated, too, but the two muffins in the group had their own peculiar take on the matter. “You know,” one said conversationally, “that looks sort of interesting. I think I might like to be anally spitted on a one piece just like her when my time comes.”

“I’m not too sure,” the other replied. “I really want to ride a two piece when I’m cooked, but I might like it up the ass. I think I’ll try that next role play session. Before I make any kind of decision, I’d like to see how she reacts over the fire.”

The two coeds listened with wide eyes and mouths slightly agape. Tanya transferred her horrified stare to the muffins. Cicily and Janine were also looking on with rigid uneasiness, alternately staring at the spitted Laci and the two casually conversing muffins.

Leaving the downstairs gaggle to finish tying off Laci to the spit, Sharon went back upstairs to see just what sort of insanity was taking place without adult supervision. With any luck, she thought with more hope than expectation, there wouldn’t be anybody dangling upside down from the ceiling. The last time, it had taken forever to get Liz down, as tangled in the ropes as she’d gotten.

Looking around, Sharon heaved a small sigh of relief. Things appeared relatively normal, at least for this place. Max wasn’t around, so probably a few of the girls were somewhere in back with him, engaged in some private games. She didn’t bother to count noses to find out.

Several of the Beta Delts were tied in a bent over position, with others applying paddles to their rumps with real vigor. The recipients of the paddling were pleading loudly for mercy, while angling their reddening bottoms to give the paddlers the best angle.

Out on the patio, the sauce making was proceeding nicely. The water was steaming and so were the squirming, writhing, squealing women in it. Anne-Marie was stirring the water nicely, occasionally pumping her long stir pole between a pair of plump thighs. There was a soft brush on the end under the water, and its effect on an excited clitoris was made quite audible by said clit’s owner.

In fact, Rosa erupted with an ultra-strong orgasm and started bobbing up and down in the water, eyes screwed shut and mouth open in deep gasps. Her large breasts were flopping so much, they were slapping the water each time she bobbed. Anne-Marie turned and gave Sharon a wide bawdy grin and kept happily stirring.

Given as juicy as Rosa usually got, the sauce ought to be quite flavorful this time.

Hm, there was Wendy, carrying the stuffing bag, a device like a huge cake decorator with a thick nozzle on its end. Insert the end up a woman’s cunt, squeeze the bag until it was empty, and all of the stuffing was handily pushed inside her pussy. Evidently Belinda had decided to stuff Laci before she was tied off to the spit. Made sense. With her tied in that doubled up, ass high position, she was perfectly arranged to have her pussy stuffed. They ought to be bringing her up soon. Ought to check and make sure the barbecue pit was warming up for her.

When Sharon returned from the pit, she saw Tanya was upstairs. Blonde Dottie and another muffin, along with one of the coeds, were giving the future meal a real meat examination. Dottie was on her knees, checking Tanya’s pussy while the other girls squeezed arms and thighs and the muffin hefted a very nicely sized breast. From the panicky expression on Tanya’s face, she wasn’t very comfortable with the examination, despite the compliments she was receiving. [img:vs3fnf55]http://rodo.tsade.com/index.php?action=dlattach;topic=269.0;attach=1317;image[/img:vs3fnf55]

Of course, when a woman with two fingers up your pussy told you your prime filet was quite tender and succulent, it could possibly make you a bit nervous. Not to mention when another cupped your breast and told you cheerfully what a nice lunch it would make cored, stuffed, and lightly baked.

The evaluation squad turned Tanya around, and Jane, the other muffin, supported the woman’s shoulders as she bent over. “Oh, this ass will give some really nice steaks,” Dottie said. [img:vs3fnf55]http://rodo.tsade.com/index.php?action=dlattach;topic=269.0;attach=1319;image[/img:vs3fnf55]

Tanya didn’t appear to take that compliment well, either. The woman just couldn’t handle honest praise.

Looking at Dottie’s round bottom, Sharon was thinking the same thing. Of course, Dottie’s ass wasn’t quite as meaty as Tanya’s, but her cheeks were still quite nicely shaped and plump pieces of meat. Sharon decided she was definitely going to get a steak from Dottie’s rump when she was cooked. Studying Tanya’s appetizingly presented buttocks, she decided she wanted one from her ass, too.

Here came the main event. They brought the spitted Laci up, carrying her carefully. From the way Laci’s wide eyes were rolling around, she was excited all right, but it looked like a panic excitement. With care, Laci’s spit - Laci thereon - was deposited on the spit braces at either end of the barbecue spit. Belinda must have been feeling traditional today, because Wendy was attaching a crank to one end, instead of the motorized rotating machinery. Somebody was going to spend some time cranking while Laci cooked. From the looks on the coeds’ faces, they seemed perfectly willing to spend that time.

One of the girls started cranking while another got ready to begin spreading spiced oil over Laci’s round, succulent body. Anne-Marie brought over a big pitcher of oil, spiced with the special secret ingredients of the ranch, to wit: girl juice from Rosa and three or so other very juicy girls. [img:vs3fnf55]http://rodo.tsade.com/index.php?action=dlattach;topic=269.0;attach=1327;image[/img:vs3fnf55]

Laci hovered between panic, denial, and a growing feeling of sexual excitement. It wasn’t only the drug Belinda had given her, it was the feeling she always got when a woman was being cooked. This time it was her, and for some strange reason, the excitement was stronger than usual. This was it. She was meat. She was on a stick and not coming off until she was ready to carve. That thought brought on a big orgasm, further heightened when her body convulsed and she felt the rigid pole inside her. She wanted so bad to squeal, to scream, to tell the world what was happening, but the spit blocked her vocal cords.

Instead, all she could do was clench her buttocks and try to flex her pussy on the stabilizing rod that filled it. She flexed her feet and hands in unconscious imitation of the coed she’d last cooked in her basement. A basting brush trailed softly over her clitoris and it felt like the top of her head blew off. Sensations driving her, her world was flex and convulse, flex and convulse, and the rod through her was both a restraint and a fulcrum for her body to strain to another giant orgasm. She stopped being conscious of anything but the heat, the orgasms and the faint but growing, wonderful smell of cooking woman meat - herself.

[img:vs3fnf55]http://rodo.tsade.com/index.php?action=dlattach;topic=269.0;attach=1329;image[/img:vs3fnf55]

Belinda leaned over and whispered in Sharon’s ear. “Well, dearest, Ms. Hudson appears to be into the spirit of things.”

Squeezing the soft round body of Cherise, who had glued herself to her side, Sharon looked around. Everybody was staring, fascinated, as Laci rotated, her beautiful glistening curves highlighted by the glow of the pit. Everyone was here on the patio watching, even Max - minus uniform but still wearing that damned helmet. Hm, Martha was now next to Max and he had his arm around her waist. A portion of Max was also beginning to stand to attention, and she could understand Martha’s interest as she saw what was coming up… and up. “Frankly, Belinda,” Sharon answered, “it looks like everybody has gotten into the spirit of things.”

Max and Martha. Now that was interesting. A bit terrifying, but interesting.

Laci knew the heat was making her delirious, the last stage before heat stroke took her, but she didn’t care. All she could feel - all she knew - were the sensations, the orgasms, the heat, the stiff rod through her body and the other one up her pussy. All she could do was feel the brush as it caressed her most sensitive parts and drew an explosion of erotic sensation, the stiffness of the rods as she flexed, voluntarily and involuntarily, against them to again bring on the blast of color and feelings that were now her entire world. She was cooking, and she could smell herself.

[img:vs3fnf55]http://rodo.tsade.com/index.php?action=dlattach;topic=269.0;attach=1325;image[/img:vs3fnf55]

Ironically, Laci realized she was experiencing something like the last coed she’d had on a spit. Her mascara was running, just like the girl’s had. Her eyes grew unfocussed and half closed as she drifted further in and out of her world of orgasms and heat, and she found she really didn’t care.

[img:vs3fnf55]http://www.dolcettgirls.com/MemberStuff/MaX/8-14-05/4L4_3Portrait.jpg[/img:vs3fnf55]

As Laci’s movements settled down and grew slowly still, the entire audience began to turn to partners for release of their sexual tensions. Cherise was in her favorite position, bent over a poolside table where she could watch Laci continue to rotate and cook. Sharon, her favorite plug-on well seated up the girl’s ass, was setting off on what promised to be a wild ride. Sharon took a second to look around. Yep, everybody was REALLY into the spirit of things.

Later, Sharon was looking at the scraps on her plate. That Hudson woman had remarkably fine flavor for not being a muffin, she thought, then felt soft hands prying her knees apart under the table. Peeking under the table, she saw Janine leaning into her pussy with mouth wide open. Not only that, Cicily was giving Belinda the same service. When she leaned up and looked at Belinda, she met one of Belinda’s knowing smiles. “Relax, dearest,” Belinda said, “they volunteered to provide a little dessert after I had a talk with them.”

Right then, Janine’s tongue caught and held Sharon’s attention.

Sometime later, after dinner and attendant shenanigans were cleared away, Belinda and Sharon were sitting companionably together on the couch. Cherise, pleasantly relaxed, was belly down across their laps, her round breasts nestled between Belinda’s naked thighs and her bottom available for whatever caress Sharon desired to provide.

“You know, Belinda,” Sharon said as she absently stroked and fondled the smooth bare plump buttocks in her lap, “you never did tell me how all of this tied together. Now’s the time.”

Belinda nodded, one arm around Sharon’s shoulders and the free hand resting on Cherise’s bare back. “Actually, dearest,” she said, “it was Cicily and the packaged meat that told me what was going on. There’s too much meat on the average woman for one person to need as many girls as Ms. Hudson was catching. The dated package told me she was running a profitable little business selling girl meat. Janine and Cicily were major customers, and didn’t really care where it was coming from. In fact, they were quite happy with the fact that it was from local coeds. Rather special. Not like the common South American stock you could buy anywhere. It appealed to their egos they were getting meat from the University girls.”

Belinda glanced around the living room where several of the coeds were making out with various muffins or engaged in other relaxing pursuits. “I really couldn’t have that, dearest. Of course, when Hudson got too confident and grabbed two of her own sorority girls, that was simply too much. I’ve explained the error of their ways to Janine and Cicily. They know they’re on my shopping list if they ever try something like that again.

“Of course,” Belinda said idly, “I may not wait for them to try, either. It’ll do them good to wonder about that.”

Martha came swaying out of the back with a woozy, goofy smile on her face. Buck assed naked, as usual, but wearing Max’s steel helmet as her sole item of apparel. She waved breezily at Sharon and Belinda, picked up a bottle of Champaign from an ice bucket, then strolled back the way she’d come. One thing was certain, Max was having a good time. Apparently, so was Martha.

Looking over where Tanya, still cuffed, was sitting in one of the chairs and casting nervous glances at Belinda, Sharon asked, “And her? She wasn’t involved in kidnapping the Beta Delts, but it looks like she’s on the next menu.”

Belinda looked lazily at Tanya, which made the woman even more nervous. “True, she is. That bitch.” With that judgment, Tanya’s fate was sealed.

“Tanya would have been perfectly willing to grab a Beta Delt if she had the chance,” Belinda continued, “and I couldn’t allow that. Besides, she’s competition.”

Belinda stroked Sharon’s bare shoulder and looked at her affectionately. “You know how I hate competition, dearest.”