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Jack Ridley
Member
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Posted: Thu Aug 7th, 2008 01:24 am |
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Missy and Jack talked quite a bit about how to make her “spitting” experience seem real although Jack didn’t think it would be too hard to do so with Missy’s fabulous imagination. He wanted to make it just intense enough for her imagination to take over. She was not a passive participant in their fantasies and the fact that a great deal of Jack’s excitement was based on her satisfaction that was a good thing for both of them. They were experimenting, trying things out, wanting to see what the limits were, and how they could keep from ruining the fantasy and making it cheesy and so silly it would be embarrassing.
The first thing Jack knew was that he wasn’t going to be able to actually spit his playmate. Killing Missy was not an option. This was something he wanted to keep doing, this fantasy, for as long as possible. The only thing that could ruin the scene would be an accident that resulted in an injury or death or perhaps the worst thing for Jack, that Missy would express her undying love for Jack and a desire to leave her husband for him. That was not an option. Jack had too many dark secrets that he could not share with a woman, at least a woman he was going to permit to continue living.
Missy was open to what Jack called one or two breaks in concentration to make the fantasy move along. The success of their scene depended a great deal on Missy’s mind and Jack’s patience. She was excited as they made plans. Jack bought a small electric fireplace that had a realistic fire display and made the kind of crackling noises you would expect from such a fire.
He purchased several boxes of the red transparent wrap, some oranges, and at the International Video, a porn shop over in New Oxford, some edible powders and lotions. Most of everything else he had. The special poles that Carl used were not something he wanted to use with Missy. He went to Neufel’s, where strip dancer poles were made and purchased a special made 8’ pole, two inches in diameter, which is the standard diameter for a professional stripper to use. This gleaming stainless steel pole would produce the sensation that Missy needed to heighten the scene that she was setting in her mind. He had it specially made, not to fit into a top or base, but pointed at both ends.
He then purchased two adjustable stands that Neufel’s made for him without question to go with the pole. The rest of the stuff he needed, like I said, he had in his well appointed and huge kitchen. Cooking was very important to Jack and a properly supplied kitchen was essential to his lifestyle.
They talked a few times before the day came. They agreed that nothing would go into her vaginal orifice that wasn’t sterile or a clean part of his body. Putting real food inside a woman’s vagina could cause infection. Sometimes she got so excited just talking about it that she begged him to fuck her. Of course, Jack, being very oral, always wanted, and got what he wanted, access to her body in every wonderful way. Missy had gotten so used to trusting Jack and even the inhibitions that most women have with lovers were erased from her mind. Jack had treated her like a pet, bathed her, dried her off, and had examined in various fantasies every part of her body, something which at first had boundaries, but with time, all of those vanished.
Their medical fantasies had blended over into his fantasy of a woman as a toy, whose body, every square centimeter, was his to do with as he pleased. This was highly erotic to him before it was to her. She had to buy into the fact that he could, with the lights on, examine every part of her and taste her, lick her, nibble on her, bite her, and suck on her. In return she received the joy of many intense orgasms.
Missy shaved herself and washed herself thoroughly. She had willing spent the day before drinking Fleet’s Phospho Soda, three doses in 8 ounce glasses of water in the morning and three in the evening. All day long she had only chicken and beef broth for her food. After midnight she ate nothing. She was cleaned out and cleaned out good. She felt weak at first but the anticipation of what was going to happen to her gave her strength. Her excitement was at a fever pitch. These were things she had only dreamed of as a young woman and now she had a lover who could make her dreams come true and, yet, demanded nothing of her but that she fulfill his fantasies. It seemed like a good bargain for Missy.
She came into Jack’s house. She wasn’t nervous but she was ready to burst with anticipation. He kissed her passionately on the lips and she smiled at him. He always made her feel so comfortable and secure. He took her into the house and ushered her into a spare bedroom. There, he undressed her. He looked at her body hungrily for a moment, then leaned down to kiss one breast. After this the fantasy would begin. He walked out and closed the door. Missy took a deep breath.
When the door opened he walked in with a leather rope and without saying a word and without any of his previous tenderness he bound her wrists together. Then, he took a marker and wrote on her belly the number #11. Then, he looked her up and down as one might look at some meat one was getting ready to purchase at the market.
“Okay, meat, come with me. Its your time.” He ordered.
“Yes, sir.” She said meekly and lowering her head, allowed him to lead her out of the room pulling on the leather rope. In Jack’s large kitchen there was an adjustable cooking table. It was curious, not only for being so large but for being able to be adjusted for height. Jack had explained that he had it made that way so that cooks of various heights could easily work on it. It was stainless steel and had a drain in it that ran into a reservoir underneath.
Jack had lowered the table some and he had Missy get up onto the table and ordered her to lie back, which he helped her do. She was stretched out on the table and her entire body could just lay on the surface without hanging off. On the end where her head was there as a cushion of vinyl in order to keep her from too much discomfort. She didn’t want to ask why a cushion was part of a cooking table. It didn’t seem important.
She lay still, looking up at him. He pinched her flesh and probed and prodded as if he was inspecting livestock.
“Okay, meat, good thighs, firm breasts. It looks as if you’ll cook very well. I think I’ll enjoy eating you.”
Missy was starting to get wet thinking about being food. She was thinking about what it would be like in her fantasy if this were real. Her mind was starting to take her to where she wanted to go and Jack would be there with her. Jack picked up a knife. At this point she wasn’t sure if it was real or rubber. Out of her sight was a baster will with red food coloring thickened with just a touch of starch. Bringing the knife over her eyes he said coldly;
“It’s time to prepare you. This will hurt at first but you’ll be unconscious before long.”
She looked at him and said submissively, “Will you kill me now and eat me, sir?”
“Yes”, he said as he dragged the knife across her exposed throat and at the same time began releasing the contents of the baster along the line that the knife would have cut, thick red fluid falling across her neck and onto the table. She played along and gasped, opening her eyes wide and her mouth, acting for all she was worth, because she knew this would turn on Jack and herself. She could feel the warm wetness of “her blood” on her back as it pooled on the table.
She imagined herself dying, growing unconscious. She closed her eyes slowly, letting out a soft moan. Soon, she lay very still. Now, she wanted to feel what he had in store for her. Jack held the baster in a bowl he had prepared and filled it again. This time he raised her bound wrists over her head so that they lay back off the table. He laid the knife along her body in between her breasts and began drawing a line “cutting” her, following the knife with the baster as she felt the knife on her skin and the wetness of “her blood” pooling once again, simulating her being gutted.
In another bowl was some raw meat he had picked up fresh at the butchers and some more red food coloring, this time thickened with peanut butter. It made the ideal torn flesh look. Her eyes were closed and she was experiencing his working on her. Now, presumably her body was open. He dumped the contents of the bowl on her belly and began making motions like he was taking guts out of her body. He sawed some of the meat with another knife and she could hear the blade cutting through it. She was imagining it as her own flesh. The sticky peanut butter and food coloring concoction gave her flesh the feel of torn and open. Her body was a “bloody mess”.
She was getting hot, thinking of being prepared. He cut an orange because the orange would produce a fruity aroma and with her eyes tightly closed she could smell it. She had peeked a little to see him cutting the meat and to see her “ruined” tummy. The smell of the orange as Jack pushed a slice on her belly gave Missy the idea of being filled with condiments for cooking. Jack went all the way with the playacting because he wanted this to be good for Missy. He then took twine and pulled it tight across her skin so as to seem as if he was sewing her up.
Back and forth at angles he crisscrossed her lower and upper stomach as if he was relacing one of his speed bags down at the boxing club. Her thighs were wet as she lay there embracing the fantasy. In her mind he was sewing her up, guts and internal organs removed, and condiments filled in, to get ready for cooking.
Finally, his task complete, he began to clean her and the table up. Soon, she was clean of all the mess that was there before. Now, she was really going to have some fun. He turned her body on her side and drew both knees up and then brought her hands back down so that she was laying in a fetal position. Here was one of the breaks in concentration that he needed of her. He lifted her and she complied by allowing him to set her on her hands and knees.
She felt his hands on her ass and pussy as he explored her, inserting his now clean fingers inside first her pussy, then her clean anus. His touch made her want him so bad. She was so wet that inserting the dildo in her pussy was easy. It wasn’t large but it forced her open. How he supported it she had no idea but it didn’t feel as if it was hanging from her. She thought it was suspended from something. She then felt something hard, touching her thighs. It was the end of the pole. How could they simulate a spitting was their biggest task. Missy and Jack had agreed that this way she could imagine the real thing. Others probably have done it differently and perhaps even more erotically but this is what she wanted.
After touching her flesh and letting her feel the cold, hardness of it, he slowly ran the pointed end between her legs but tight up against her belly. She felt it slowly slide. He even moved it around like he was trying to force it through. In her mind she was thinking that it was going up through her body cavity, through the condiments. As Jack slowly slid the pole up past her belly and in between her breasts she felt herself imagining that she was being spitted. Between her breasts and very carefully, very slowly the tip touched her chin. She raised her head up, eyes still closed, and her chin rested on the steel.
He locked the pole into place on something that held it up at both ends. She could rest her weight on it although it wasn’t comfortable to do so. Jack forced her mouth open and she felt something similar to what was in her pussy, make its way into her mouth. It was light and plastic, cylindrical, and she held it in her mouth without gagging. What was important was what was happening in her mind to her body.
The electric fireplace went on, crackling and making fire noises. As she partially opened her eyes she could only see the red wrap hanging in front of her. He had turned the heat up in the kitchen. There was a fire going. She felt warm. In her fantasy mind she had been spitted and was being cooked. Jack began smearing oil on her body. It was edible oil from the porn shop but she thought of it as cooking oil. She thought for a second, how foolish she must be to be able to fantasize like this.
They condensed a several hour roasting session into a short time. And for good reason. She was uncomfortable on the table and she was sexually hot and wanted to be fucked so badly. She was imagining being spitted. She was Jack’s meat. His food.
Jack then took a two plastic knives but they might as well have been real. She was on fire. He sawed at Missy’s buttocks and reached down and bit into her flesh, not hard enough to leave teeth mark but enough to help her imagine he was cutting off her flesh and eating her. He repeated the moves with her breasts and legs, and feet. He nibbled on her toes and bit the back of her thighs.
His tongue worked around her ass and he licked her pussy as best as he could. She was nearly insane with lust by now and couldn’t help but moan. He then began removing the things that he had inserted into her mouth and pussy slowly. Slowly he slid the pole back out from bearing her weight. Then, he laid her on her back. She was still in character and lay very still, imagining herself with large chunks of flesh missing from her body.
Jack began to “carve” out pieces of her belly and thighs. He “ate” her breasts. He “ripped out” part of her throat. Burying his face in her belly and thighs, his tongue and teeth, his fake knives, and hands helped to create in her mind, the process of being devoured. She was crazy in heat by now, moaning, her hips moving slightly. Her pussy was wet and ready for him. But, there was one more part of the act that was needed to complete the scene for her.
Jack carried her “carcass” into his closed in back yard where she was unceremoniously dumped on a blowup mattress he had previously prepared. She lay askew, legs open, one arm laying across her stomach. She pretended to be cast off remains of a dead woman, meaningless meat, pointless waste of a meal, scraps, anonymous and without any value. This part of her fantasy was overwhelming. It was up to her to end it. She opened her eyes and looked at him standing there.
“Oh god, Jack, fuck me, please, fuck me, do whatever you want to me. I need you to fuck me.” So, he did. They had the most intense sex she had imagined on that blowup mattress. He drove into her hard and used her. He used her mouth, her breasts, her belly, and her ass cheeks. They performed 69. She came so hard she thought her heart would stop. They lay together silently, holding each other for over an hour. She whispered in his ear.
“Can we roleplay in public, next time.?” He knew what she meant. This was going to be a lot of fun, but very dangerous.
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traycon3
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| Joined: | Mon Sep 15th, 2008 |
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| Posts: | 24 |
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Posted: Tue Sep 16th, 2008 12:35 am |
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| If I haven't said it enough in the other stories of yours I've commented in today, I LOVE YOUR WRITING! It's very good and very creative.
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Jack Ridley
Member
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Posted: Tue Sep 16th, 2008 12:38 am |
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Thank you. I really appreciate it. I love to write about this topic. Right now, I am doing two ongoing stories for two special people with content that wouldn't be appropriate in this public forum.
But, soon, I hope to post another story in here along these lines. It really gives me some great ideas for my private entertaining. hehe
Last edited on Tue Sep 16th, 2008 12:39 am by Jack Ridley
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