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Chewyyy
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| Joined: | Wed Mar 22nd, 2006 |
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Posted: Fri Apr 14th, 2006 03:53 am |
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Factory Tester
“What kind of oven is this?’ Ruth demanded, annoyed at the obviously flawed design. “unless they want to cook a whole hog, the thing is way too big. You peasant idiots messed up again.“
‘Well, our client is in the restaurant business” Mr. Fung replied dryly. He didn’t like this new plant engineer very much, and it showed. She was a stuck-up graduate right out of Beijing, with an appalling lack of respect for her elders. She oozed arrogance like a turd oozed stink. It was obvious that the snotty brat considered this job at the kitchen-supplies factory to be deeply demeaning a stepping stone to a far more lucrative job someplace else. She recently sneered at Mr. Fung that his factory was nothing more than a night-soil patch she was forced to step in before she could go to a better place., maybe even America. Well, Fung thought contemplatively, she might get her wish.
In the meantime, Mr. Fung had to put up with her contemptuous attitude. But, thank the ancestors, not much longer.
‘Our client is a very wealthy restaurant. In America’, he added for emphasis, as if invoking America would explain any weirdness. “They must be cooking very large items. Maybe cowboys there cook their cow’s whole’ he added with a small smile, ‘yes maybe they enjoy eating nice big fat cows.”
“Well that would explain the size.’ Ruth conceded grudgingly, miffed that the twisted little gnome of a boss might be right. “It’s so big I could fit in there’ she observed. “and that would explain also the big heating unit. That convection unit is so powerful it could cook a hundred or more pounds of meat in a half-hour.’
“Yes, yes, our client specified the heat must be very high to cook meat very very fast, seal in all the juices so the animal is moist and tender. They want to eat meat right off of the bone, not even have to use knife or chopsticks. Very lazy these Americans”
The oven was certainly a beauty, all gleaming steel and modern LED controls. It sat in the back of the empty warehouse, all ready for overnight shipment to America. This was the first model, and the factory management was very anxious everything go right. The client had paid a lot of money and made exacting demands on the technology and the quality of the workmanship. If this unit was accepted many more orders would follow, enough to equip a dozen restaurants.
Naturally, Mr. Fung asked Ruth to give the finished product one last inspection since she was the new head- engineer. In spite of Mr. Fung’s obvious dislike of her, she was the perfect employee to give the oven a thorough testing.
‘But what about that motor on the right? And the holes in the side of the oven? Ruth asked, putting her head in the oven to get a better look. ‘Looks like it is designed to turn a pole or something. Is this also a rotisserie?
“Why yes,’ Mr. Fung explained,’ rotating the meat ensures even cooking. No one want meat animal inside to get scorched. But, I am not sure motor is aligned. Perhaps an engineer as good as you can check it out.’
Ruth gave a small sneer at how menial a task she was being asked to do. Nevertheless, no engineer can resist tinkering with a gadget, even something as simple as a steel oven.
She looked at the aperture and the bits of motor visible through the hole. She squinted, unable to see enough of the assembly to make a judgment. She looked at the side of the oven, and saw the motor assembly was bolted tight, with no inspection panel.
‘Oh, inspection panel inside oven’ Mr. Fung pointed out helpfully. Maybe you take quick hop inside and open her up.’
Ruth glared at him, but admitted it was a better idea than taking the outside housing apart. The interior access panel had only one screw, and should be a snap to open.
Mr. Fung offered to help Ruth into the oven. She gave him another glare, letting him know she had no intentions of letting him laying his clammy hands on her. Instead she athletically kicked her leg up and into the oven, then sidled in till her arm pressed against the cool steel side. She ducked her head and scrunched up so she could get a better look at the motor aperture. Another wiggle and she was completely inside, crouched over like a great big fashionably dressed turkey.
It was surprisingly roomy inside. Even so, maneuvering was difficult. Her business shoes slipped on the smooth floor, so she kicked them off to give her feet better purchase. The weather outside was hot even for southern China, so Ruth was already dressed in a short skirt that was barely respectable for work. Her well-toned legs were bare, the weather being too humid for pantyhose. Her top was brief, just a thin sleeveless low-cut blouse that left her arms bare and showed off a fair amount of her generous cleavage.
Ruth was a hot-looking chick, and she knew it. At five-six she was tall for a Chinese girl. She had a bit of a stocky build, legacy of some unlamented peasant ancestor, but on her the extra pounds looked very, very good, giving her a healthy, earthy attractiveness that drove guys wild. Even her breasts were on the big side, but firm and as rounded as melons in paradise. Even her moon-shaped face was more beautiful than peasant-like, with a full luscious mouth, a perky nose and wide almond-shaped eyes that were straight out of a love-stricken sailor’s dream.
Ruth gave Mr. Fung a hostile stare, as if daring him to ogle her or comment on her awkward pose. He had enough sense to look away, but Ruth could see him giving her young body an occasional sidelong glances of pure lust. She smirked, and even wiggled her ass just a touch to rub it in that she was smart and beautiful and he was a lowly toad. She would be going places, exotic places, while he was stuck here in this dead-end factory for life.
‘See anything?’ Fung asked obsequisly. “Maybe you should take a closer look. Shame to get there so easily and not get the job done.’
Ruth ignored him. It was hard to see, and she wiggled about on her hands and knees trying to get a better view. She pushed her rump up against one wall to get some leverage, her butt-crack unintentionally aligned with one of the holes. With a grunt she succeeded in unscrewing the access panel in front of her. To her surprise there was nothing behind the access panel but bare steel. Ruth almost snarled in contempt; the stupid peasants had screwed up again!
“You dammed pigs, she yelled, ‘you think I’m stupid? There is no way I’ll pass this heap of scrap metal for shipment. You all have the brains of the farm pigs you were sired by!’
There was a click and Beth realized the oven door had snapped shut. She gave an annoyed look, thinking that toad Mr. Fung was playing a joke on her. She pushed the door but it was locked. There was also no handle or obvious way to open the door from the inside. She frowned, the first twinge of concern crossing her mind.
“Mr. Fung’ she yelled, not bothering to conceal her disapproval’ will you open this door….now?’ There was no answer, but she heard the sound of a motor being turned on. That was alarming. “This is not funny. Let me out now and I promise I won’t have you fired.”
Mr. Fung’s ugly face appeared in the oven door window. He was smiling. Ruth noticed he had an exceptionally ugly smile. It wasn’t his slightly crooked tobacco-stained teeth, but rather the look of mocking evil that shone in his beady eyes.
“So sorry Ruth. You really not as smart as you think you are. No one believe except me that it would be this easy to get you in there. Everyone say I have to whack you in the head, but no, you so stupid you just jump into oven like a brainless goose. ’ he laughed, clearly enjoying himself and continued ‘you look so funny in there, like a big fat goose ready for dinner. All your so-smart arrogance, all of your sneering at us factory workers, and here you are, just a big goose squatting in an oven. Maybe you will be nicer to us when you start to cook”
That really worried Ruth. She knew the workers here hated her, but it never occurred to her they might actually dare to do something to her. The first bead of nervous sweat formed on her brow. Or was it getting warm in here?
She beat on the door with her fist but it did not budge. Mr. Fung gave a nasty laugh and walked out of sight. “Get me out of here you peasant bastard!’ Ruth shouted, too angry to even try being polite, “I’ll have your tiny balls on a plate for this!’
Unfortunately Ruth wasn’t paying much attention to the oven she was squatting in. She had forgotten the holes in the side where the rotisserie pole was supposed to go. Foolishly, she also forgot that her generously-sized ass was pressed against one such orifice. And, as a final oversight, she forgot that the engineering schematics clearly showed that the rotisserie spit was mounted onto a powerful hydraulic motor that was designed to inject the spit into whatever meat happened to be sitting in the middle of the oven. Any engineer worth their salt can tell you that such carelessness around machinery can get you killed.
There was a hiss, and sharp pain in the ass, like she had been jabbed with a tire-iron right between the butt cheeks. She yelped, more in surprise then pain. As an engineer she should have appreciated the fact that the spitting process was so efficient. The spit itself was made out of the highest quality vanadium steel, designed to heat to 600+ degrees and hold 300 pounds of weight without any deformation. The tip was sharpened to surgical tolerances, so sharp that it passed through her clothes, sphincter, bowel and colon like a sniper-bullet through butter. It penetrated so efficiently that it barely registered on Ruth’s nervous system, feeling more like a urgent bowel movement than any real pain. The machine that drove the spit was also a marvel of modern engineering, with an ultrasound sensor that scanned any human body placed inside, and an AI algorithm that allowed it to calculate the exact path the spit must take to miss all major blood vessels and organs but still pass through the targets center of gravity, and lodge in the upper torso. Ruth herself could not have designed a more efficient system to non-lethally impale a woman if her very engineering degree depended on it. It was quite ironic she was on the receiving end of a machine that was a masterwork of the engineering art.
Ruth gagged, then coughed up a thin bloody spittle. It was then she realized it was difficult to move. It felt like her ass was pinned to the wall of the oven, and every attempt at movement brought a dull throb from her belly. She was a bright girl, and it quickly dawned on her exactly what had happened. Her beautiful eyes widened in shock, her face a mask of indignation and fear.
“This must be some kind of joke’ she said in a weak voice. “You can’t just spit someone like they are a cow.”
Even as she said it she knew it was a stupid thing to say since she obviously already had a spit in her ass. Mr. Fung’s malevolent smile merely confirmed the awful truth.
“But you are a cow, my arrogant dear, and you most certainly have been spitted. You were a bitch, now you be piece of meat on stick. Very great improvement if you ask me.’
Ruth paled at the look of utter glee on the man’s face. She felt weak, and knew she must be bleeding inside. She screamed, hoping for someone to help her. Maybe if someone pulled the pole out of her they could get her to a hospital in time to stitch her up. Then, she would spend the rest of her life getting even with this little roach of a man, and everyone else connected to this scheme.
‘No one to help you, little piggie’ Fung cackled with glee, ‘no one care that you squeal like stuck pig. Everyone here know what is happening to you, and everyone is happy. You be a real bitch, piss everyone off. They all agree you should be final test subject. That way we don’t have to find some other girl to try out our invention.’
Ruth voiced a tiny sob of pure fear. She wiggled her butt, trying to worm free, but the pole was too deep in her innards and there was too little room in the oven to try to slide off it’s smooth length. She felt a warm trickle down her thighs, and knew it was her blood.
“Pleeeeseee…she muttered, pleeesee let me go. Why are you doing this to me?”
Fung rolled his eyes in disgust. “You really stupid for such a bright University bitch. Maybe you have shit in your ears.or maybe you are as stupid as the piggie you look like. We get order from a restaurant, one that specializes in long-pig. You heard the term? No? Well long-pig is people, and women are best tasting of kind of people. Very juicy, very tender, melt in the mouth. These days people begin to remember again how good woman-flesh taste. Willing to spend a lot of money getting women to eat, and like nice new ways to cook them.’
“Our client pay good price for new oven that cooks live woman real fast and with little mess. They say they cook a lot of women and need something that leaves little mess. They then open restaurants all over world, including here in China where they serve nice big fat-ass western girls to us. You should be proud that you get to be one of the first girls to try one out, though you sure won’t be the last. We all get rich, except for you, who gets eaten. Too bad for you.’
Mr. Fung cautiously opened the oven door. Ruth struck out with her fist, but the pole up her butt kept her from getting any force into the blow. Fung, pushed her arm aside and began to stroke her bare legs and arms, then shoved his hand under her blouse and gave her boobs a vigorous pawing. Ruth shuddered at his touch but had to accept his lusty groping.
“Very, very nice” he muttered, voice hoarse with lust, “very nice piggie. Got good muscle, good fat, you make nice roast. Some Chinese girls too thin dry out when cooking, so we need to cut them into pieces and dump in wok, but you plump enough we can keep you in one big fat piece and you stay juicy all the way to serving time. We do need to get these clothes off. Don’t want you to catch fire as you cook, piss customer off if meat has burnt panty lines and charred bra stuck to boobs.”
He produced a pair of shears and began to cut off her clothes. He cooed admiringly as the silvery blades exposed more and more of her bare golden flesh. He cut her blouse along the back, and pulled it off, then unhooked her lacy bra. His eyes widened in admiration of her exposed bosom. He gave her boobs a nice long groping, full of lust and cold calculation at how the soft flesh would taste when broiled. He cut off her skirt. He looked a bit nauseous at the sight of her bloody panties, the snow-white fabric skewered by the blood-splattered steel pole. He delicately cut away the silky undergarment, exposing her impaled crotch in all its mutilated glory. The site of her fleshy lips, still pink with health cured his nausea. He licked his lips and stroked the skewered vaginal petals like they were the most exquisite of roses blossoms. He rubbed the bloody flesh softly, then licked his fingers clean of the blood and cunt-juice cocktail. It was deliscious, salty and rich, like fresh veal liver, but filled with the aroma and flavor of sex. He wanted to fuck her, to feel her still-living meat around his cock, but her hole was already filled, and he would have to be forever content with the taste of her gore-smeared twat juice.
He pulled off the remains of her panties and dabbed her soiled crotch with a towel. He would keep that as a memento of Ruth’;s demise. He took a razor and shaved her light almost downy pubic hair, then ran the edge over her buttocks to catch any stray strands. He discarded the razor, and spent some minutes suctioning out any stray poop from her spascious bowel. She was thankfully clean inside, and he had to give her only a few perfunctory wipes as she was as clean as
He finished tidying her up by tying her long lustrous hair up in a pony-tail, and wrapped the silky noose around her neck.
“You very nice piggie’ he whispered admiringly, ‘almost shame you get cooked. But you are such a bitch, it is for best. You will certainly make our client very happy when opens up package he sees you curled up inside. Give him a big surprise and us nice bonus. Nothing makes customer happier than getting a brand-new oven already stuffed with pretty Chinese girl already cooked up and ready to carve.”
Fung produced asset of skewers and drove them through her wrists and ankles, then placed a bolt at each end to keep her hands and feet locked in place. Ruth looked at him in shock. It was the first time Fung directly hurt her, and it shocked her more than being stabbed up the butt by a roasting spit. Fung then manipulated Ruth’s immobilized arms under her torso, the hands cupping the ample breasts. He then bent her golden legs and folded her knees up under her belly till the poor girl was in the classic turkey pose.
Ruth was now starting to feel the pain from her skewering. Every movement of her body, even breathing ached. She therefore didn’t notice Mr. Fung work the control panel of the oven.
“Now we clean you out real good. Can’t cook girl without cleaning her out…very messy, pisses off customers. Did you notice the blueprints included saw under the oven floor?’
Ruth nodded a no; her beautiful face lined with discomfort and sudden dread that she about to find out that she had overlooked some other feature of this hellish cooking device.
Fung chuckled, “maybe you not such a good engineer after all. Careless of you not to look at blueprints before testing. Can’t get good help these days I guess. Anyway, this model do everything, spit girl, clean her out real nice, then cook her like goose. Here, let me show you.’
He hit a button, and a slot opened in the floor of the oven. Ruth looked down between her boobs and immobilized hands and screamed. There was a silvery swish of polished steel and then a flare of pain from her belly. A fine red mist erupted from her tummy and she felt her innards start to slurp through her freshly-sawn navel.
Again, Ruth would have been impressed by the technology involved. The surgical-quality circular saws could slice a woman’s belly open in a fraction of a second, but that was just the start. The MRI scanner in the oven had already pinpointed her entire digestive tract and the precise location of any unwanted organs. A series of retractable scalpels and scoopers emerged from the slot and began to operate on her insides with a skill and precision that would leave a world-class surgeon gaping in awe. Intestines, colon, bladder, pancreas, you name it, it was excised in an eyeblinking ballet of sharp steel and suction. Cauterizing irons moved in, sizzling any severed blood vessels shut, till barely a drop of blood oozed from her eviscerated abdomen. Then the instruments and their grisly cargo vanished back down the slot, and a flood of warm water even washed away most of the pooled blood, leaving poor Ruth wet, gutted, and pale, but very much alive.
What seemed like the final indignity was another set of tools flashed out of the sides of the machine and in a blizzard of tiny motions sewed the loose flaps of Ruth’s slashed up belly tighter than a miser’s purse. Her tummy flesh still hung limply from her spine, the parted muscles that gave her mid-section its sleek form no longer able to function properly. The golden flesh jiggled slightly whenever she moved, the stitches lining the tear in her belly twitching like they were twisting in a gentle breeze.
Sadly for the mutilated girl, it was not the final indignity she would suffer. The spit that pinned Ruth in place was hollow, the exterior lined with holes. Fung hit another button, there was a hiss, and a moment later a flood of rich creamy goo began to flow out of the shaft and into the cavern of Ruth’s emptied belly.
“Now to stuff you like holiday goose. We mix up special bitch stuffing, just for you. Ancient recipe, used by the emperors themselves. If it was good enough recipe for royal concubines, it sure be good enough for uppity slut like you” Fung cackled. He watched in fascination as the sides of Ruth’s belly began to swell, like a fast motion pregnancy. Her hollow belly filled out to its former sleek form, then kept expanding. The tawny skin began to stretch, and Ruth groaned loudly in pure misery. The skin stretched more, now tight as a drumhead. The edges of her incision began to pull apart, and the stiched strained to hold in her load. Rivulets of the stuffing mixture began to seep from her punctured asshole like edible lava. Regretabley, Fung had to turn off the flow. There was no sense having her burst like a meat-lined balloon. That would ruin the whole presentation.
The stuffing was indeed a special blend, the basics centuries old .The recipe had been crafted by the finest chefs of the Imperial court, and tried out on the generations of delectable chosen slaves and royal concuibines. It was saturated with subtle spices designed to enhance the already heavenly flavors of woman meat, yet fluid enough to seep through the woman’s entire torso, marinating muscle and organ, beginning the job of tenderizing the victim’s tissues even before they began to cook. The modern additions to this venerable recipe were small doses of drugs that were designed to be absorbed into the bloodstream. They slowed the woman’s metabolism to just barely conscious, reducing the need for the long-pig to breathe and protecting her circulatory system against heat shock, allowing the victim live as long as possible in scorching heat.
Fung let her be for a minute or two, letting the stuffing settle in. He help up her face in his hands, delighted to see her still alive and in deep pain. Previous test subject had all expired by this time, and he was glad he had finally mastered the delicate process. Plus, wanted her alive long enough to feel herself cook so her tortured flesh could flavor itself. Women who spent a while feeling themselves always tasted better. Finally, he had to admit he just wanted her to suffer. After all, he really did hate her arrogant guts (even though strictly speaking the guts were gone) and looked forward to some old fashioned revenge for having to put up with her crappy attitude for so long.
It was time for a last few touches. Mr. Fung opened several cans of sweet peaches set aside for this special feast. He carefully spooned the nectar-rich fruit into Ruth’s cunt, pushing the spoon deep into her vagina till it poked her cervix, then dumped the load of fruit at the base of the meaty barrier. The fruit juice and blood mingled together into a bright orange syrup with dribbled from her pussy lips and began to glaze the insides of her thighs. Fung worked slowly, whistling as he patiently fed piece after piece of fruit into her spacious cunt. Fung snickered at the size of her cunt and commented to her that she sure looked like she had been a very bad girl from this angle.
Fung was a careful man, and made sure she was packed as tightly as possible before her finished. Nectar streamed down the woman’s thighs in sticky streams, and her vaginal lips strained to contain the sweet cargo. To keep her from spilling her juicy load as she broiled up he plugged her twat with a carrot, stabbing the tip deep into her already squishy vagina till it was set in place. He tugged at the carrot to make sure it was firmly anchored. Seeing nothing spill from her cunt he gave her a nice pat on the ass and told her crotch was ready for dinner.
Fung finished by pouring the excess peach juice all over Ruth’s sweat-streaked back. He brushed more nectar all over her body, massaging the sticky syrup into her skin, till her whole body glistened like it was sheathed in gold. Thick gobs gathered on her nipples and chin, where they hung like beads of amber. More nnector was rubber onto her hair, where it would keep it from burning. Then the last was smoothed over her face, ensuring her beautiful features would be preserved in most of their beauty even as the rst of her body heated up past the boiling point.
“Now you much sweeter than before’ Fung mocked ’before you sour bitch, now you sweet enough I would like to take a bite of you myself.’
He laughed at the piteous look she gave him, all of her arrogance gone. He patted her on the head affectionatly, “Good girl, you much better now. Know your place. Girls much better when they know they are meat. I’m sure those round-eyes will absolutely love you’
“maybe you be happy to know that not only Chinese girls will be riding in our little oven. The oven sides can be easily expanded to fit even the fattest-assed American girls. It can cook anyone from skinniest waif to biggest amazon with no problem. Even have optional double-spit for cooking two girls at once. Be nice for those times you catch a pair of lesbians for dinner.’
Fung spent some time fiddling with the machine while Ruth knelt there and suffered. She was dizzy with shock and fright, and began to shiver as her body lost heat. Breathing was hard, her lungs having to push against stuffing and the hard spit. Her twat itched abominably from the fruit juice congealing against her clitoris. She began to cry, sobs of self-pity, sobbed that her bright future would end here in an oven, naked bound and roasted like a culled farm animal.
Mr. Fung’s ugly face reappeared. “Miss me?’ he chuckled, “sorry, but I had to fill up you glazing tank.’
He saw the puzzled look on Ruth’s pain-creased face.
“Oh, we design our little baby here to do everything needed to cook a woman properly. That includes spraying you with cooking oil and your own drippings when sensors in sides see your skin getting too hot. That way we can use very high heat and not have your dainty skin scorch. It also keeps your hair soaked down with oil so your pretty head doesn’t go up in flames. You see, cooking women the high-tech way is the wave of the future. Soon, everyone can cook bicth-meat any time, just toss bimbo in, let oven do all the work. Just carve and serve. You should be proud to help us perfect the design.’
With that, Fung closed the door and hit the power button. Heating elements roared to life and Ruth was awash in waves of searing heat. She went from cold to broiling in barely the time it took to belt out a few frenzied screams. Her whole body bucked and jerked, careless of her insides sliding against the pole in her middle. She smelt meat, fresh mouth-watering meat, and knew it was her own. She howled like a lunatic, but to no avail as her skin’s juices flashed into oily steam. Just as her skin began to burn a mist of cooking oil and spices hissed over her, moistening her skin and hair, but in no way lessening the agony. Her eyesight dimmed as her eyeballs poached. Her lips drew back over her teeth as her cheeks scalded into tight little cuts of skin-clad woman-ham.
She stayed alive longer than should have been possible. The drugs in her helped slow the shock, and the heat was so intense her flesh cooked with such rapidity that little congealed blood could travel from newly seared steak to her heart. She stayed alive long enough to feel her clitoris boil in its bath of fruit juice, long enough to smell steam coming out of her nostrils bearing the scent of her cooked ribs. Then she died, which was the only merciful thing that had happened to her all day.
Mr. Fung sighed in pleasure as he watched the beautiful tableau. He watched the pompous bitch’s skin bloom a deep rose-red, watched her derma bubble and crisp, watched her body oils erupt like thick geysers through the small cracks in her cooked hide, watched her grow still still and slump into a limp simmer. Above all he loved the look on her face, the way her pain-clenched features slowly relaxed as the underlying muscles simmered till she almost looked like she had merely fallen asleep in her hellish womb.
He summoned the other workers in, who all admired how nice Ruth looked as a long-pig. Sadly, no one could partake of her flesh, but that was a small sacrifice. With the money they would make there would be many more ovens, and many more girls to fill them. It would not be long before a benefit of working at the factory would be helping of freshly-roasted girl meat, still bubbling hot and fresh.
They packed the heavily-laden oven up in a crate for shipment. The oven was air-tight, and would hold the gorgeous corpse inside and keep it hot for the twelve hours the express flight to America would take. The crate was already cleared through customs, and no one would suspect it held a roasted woman instead of industrial goods.
“Bye-bye little piggie’ Fung waved as the truck pulled away.. Enjoy your stay inn America. And thank you for helping us test our new Red-Dragon 2000 oven. You did a good job.”
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fernwalker
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Posted: Fri Apr 14th, 2006 08:43 am |
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Nice variation of the oven theme.
I like the idea of the oven being delivered with the meat already inside.
Fern
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Tribal Hose
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Posted: Sat Apr 15th, 2006 02:48 am |
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I really enjoyed this story, Chewyyy! I only wish that Ruth had worn pantyhose and might have been roasted and displayed in them! Maybe you could write a story about the American release of the product at a convention of sorts and a lot of show models in pantyhose unwillingly being used for demonstrations? Would love to read that! LOL Laters!
Vanessa
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Petfood4u
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Posted: Fri Jun 23rd, 2006 04:26 pm |
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oh my god! that was soo perfect! that's got to be one of the better stories like that I've ever read. i could so imagine myself in her place.. every moment of it. it was wonderful! thank you
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Chewyyy
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Posted: Sun Jun 25th, 2006 01:52 pm |
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| Thanks! Glad it gave you a sizzle!
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venus_redscar
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Posted: Sat Apr 28th, 2007 05:19 am |
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I like this story. Very nice.
Love accidents with Dolcett Machines...
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jiminycricket
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Posted: Sat Apr 28th, 2007 04:22 pm |
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Yeah, this story is one of my favorites as well. Chewy really knows how to play the tension in his stories.
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spit Master
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Posted: Tue Jun 26th, 2007 11:43 pm |
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I have a pen in hand and have made a drawing of this oven, my girl friend and I think this story would make fantastic reality and in theory would woke. not the staying alive after prep but the rest would.
the only way for a bitch to go and be of use in a culinary way.
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Chewyyy
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Posted: Wed Jun 27th, 2007 12:05 am |
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I believe a woman can be sptted and live for a while. If the spit is sharp enough it will slice through flesh with a minimum of trauma. If the metal is heated, it will cauterize any punctured blood vessals shut. Bleeding, and shock can be delayed long enough for the victim to have some time to contemplate their fate.
The major issue with classical 'up the ass and out the mouth' spitting is the lungs and airways. A normal spit would choke the poor piggie rather quickly. There are a cvouple of ways around this. One is a very slender spit. To bear the weight of the meat the spit would have to be very strong steel, or even ceramic. The least complicated way to to pass the spit up against the back of the sternum and pass the point out the base of the poor dear's neck.
Another idea to partially spit the girlie sow, with the spit-point just below the lungs. Cross pieces skewered through her spine and lateral muscles could hold her in place as she turned over a fire, especially if the sow's arms are also impaled on the crosspieces.
Thanks for the comliments! I wish you the best on your culinary plans!!!!!!
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Artulo
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Posted: Mon Sep 8th, 2008 07:10 am |
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| One of my favourites as well.
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traycon3
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Posted: Mon Sep 15th, 2008 11:22 pm |
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Chewyyy wrote: I believe a woman can be sptted and live for a while. If the spit is sharp enough it will slice through flesh with a minimum of trauma. If the metal is heated, it will cauterize any punctured blood vessals shut. Bleeding, and shock can be delayed long enough for the victim to have some time to contemplate their fate.
The major issue with classical 'up the ass and out the mouth' spitting is the lungs and airways. A normal spit would choke the poor piggie rather quickly. There are a cvouple of ways around this. One is a very slender spit. To bear the weight of the meat the spit would have to be very strong steel, or even ceramic. The least complicated way to to pass the spit up against the back of the sternum and pass the point out the base of the poor dear's neck.
Another idea to partially spit the girlie sow, with the spit-point just below the lungs. Cross pieces skewered through her spine and lateral muscles could hold her in place as she turned over a fire, especially if the sow's arms are also impaled on the crosspieces.
Thanks for the comliments! I wish you the best on your culinary plans!!!!!!
I've wondered about that whole "up the ass ect" thing, myself. I liked the take you took with this one, though. The high-tech oven just sounds really cool. I also liked the characters you created. Especially Mr. Fung.
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Asian Nymph
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Posted: Tue Sep 23rd, 2008 03:53 pm |
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| I enjoyed this story and the elaborate ways the woman was prepared. Great work!
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loquei
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Posted: Mon May 11th, 2009 06:10 am |
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I wonder if the red dragon 2000 is a rival for the jessica 3000? interesting story concept there...
Great story, Chewwy!
Loquei
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Chewyyy
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Posted: Tue May 12th, 2009 12:50 am |
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| Thanks for everyone's compliments. I've always liked oven roasting over spitting so I created an alternative to the old Jessica. Of course any piece of cannibal cookware is great when it has tender Chinese meat cooking away inside.....
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