Gromet's PlazaDevoured Stories

Makes its Own Sauce

by Max Roper

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© Copyright 2010 - Max Roper - Used by permission

Storycodes: F+/m; capture; bond; tease; mast; shave; prepare; boil; roast; vore; nc/reluct; X

He'd heard the owls before but never quite so close. This one seemed to be talking to him. Eventually he spotted her in a tree across from his cabin. She was looking directly at him, moving her head around and occasionally shrieking. As soon as he made eye contact she flew to another tree about fifty yards down the path. He followed her and, once he spotted her in the tree, she flew off to a third tree where she perched, watching him.

'She wants me to follow her', he thought. So he did, climbing over downed trees and underbrush as she continued to lead him on, flying from tree to tree, then waiting for him to catch up.

Cresting a ridge, he paused to look around and was alarmed at how dark it was. Deciding it would be wise to give up his pursuit, he began working his way down the hill, hoping to find his way back while he could still see. He'd only gone a few steps when he heard a loud TWANG and the world was suddenly and violently turned upside down. As the blood rushed to his head, he realized he was hanging upside down by his left ankle.

His first thought was disbelief, followed by panicked attempts to free himself, as the implications of his predicament sank in. He was miles from any help and was hanging helplessly in a forest that he knew contained coyotes, bears and cougars. Not a good situation. He tried again and again to pull himself up to reach the rope around his ankle but was unable to get close. As panic and frustration began to overwhelm him, the owl landed close by and looked him over. She let out several loud shrieks before flying off.

He continued struggling, knowing it was useless and that he should be saving his strength. Finally he gave up and hung limply. After a while he saw lights moving toward him through the trees.

“Help!” he called. “Please help me!”

There was no response, but the lights were moving steadily towards him. Soon several beams hit his eyes.

“Thank God you found me--”

“We didn't find you. Athena did. Now shut up,” said a woman's voice, as several sets of hands roughly bound his wrists and arms and a gag was thrust into his mouth. He was then released from the tree and allowed to tumble to the ground. A cloth was wrapped around his eyes and he was pulled to his feet.

“This way,” commanded the woman's voice, as he felt himself pulled forward by the rope wrapped around chest and upper arms. Stumbling slightly he went toward the voice.

“Good boy. Just follow my lead.”

Tripping and stumbling, he did as he was told and the group slowly made their way back up and over the ridge. After what seemed like hours they reached their destination. He smelled woodsmoke as his back was pushed against a tree and several ropes were wrapped around his torso holding him upright. His shoes, socks, jeans and underwear were removed and his legs were bound at the ankles, knees and thighs. He then felt a small cold hand wrap around his penis and begin gently stroking him. To his embarrassment, he responded immediately.

As the hand continued stroking and teasing, his hips involuntarily began moving. The ropes binding him prevented much movement but the hand knew what it was doing and he was soon on the verge of ejaculating. Then the hand stopped. He moaned and pleaded through his gag and attempted to squirm enough to finish himself off, but to no avail. He spent the rest of the night tied to the tree and every half hour or so someone would tease him again. Soon he was willing to do anything if they would allow him to come. They didn't.

He'd managed a few moments of uncomfortable dozing between teasings but by dawn he was tired, sore, and twitching uncontrollably from sexual frustration. He saw light creeping in around his blindfold and began to feel the sun on his face as he heard voices and realized his captors were beginning their day. Someone loosened the ropes holding him to the tree and helped him down to a sitting position. Although his arms and legs were still tightly bound, the relief of sitting down and being able to bend his knees was immense. After promising to remain silent, the gag was removed.

“One word,” said the woman standing over him. “Just one word out of you, and the gag goes right back in. Understand?”

He nodded.

“Good boy.” She tucked what seemed to be a large mug into his lap and positioned a long straw so that he could drink.

“Breakfast”, she explained. “Don't spill it.”

It was a bland mush. Stewed turnips maybe. But he was famished and it filled his stomach. The straw slipped from his lips and he fell fast asleep against the tree.

When he awoke, he found he had been retied and was now completely naked. The gag was back in place, but he wasn't blindfolded. He was standing with his arms stretched above and tied apart to a tree branch while his legs were spread wide and tied at the ankles to pegs in the ground. An attractive redhead approached with a steaming pail of sudsy water and an old fashioned straight razor.

“I'm going to shave you,” she said. “I'll try not to cut you, but it'll go a lot easier if you hold still. Okay?”

He nodded.

“Good,” she said, and set to work.

She started at his legs, shaving them completely before moving on to his genitals and torso. She used a five gallon bucket as a stool and continued from his underarms up to his wrists. Eventually he was completely hairless. She poured several buckets of cold water over him to wash off the soap and hairs, then stood back to admire her work. She gave him a big smile, squatted in front and teased him to the verge of ejaculation. She gave him a playful swat on the butt and left, returning shortly with another cup of mush which, after his gag as removed, he dutifully slurped up and once again passed out.

This time he awoke with his arms tied behind him and his legs tied together at the knees and bound heel to thigh. As he took in his surroundings, his heart started beating faster. He saw a large sack of potatoes and a huge bowl of peeled carrots on a nearby table. Directly in front of him was a fire pit with an immense spit mounted above it and a massive cast iron pot mounted on an arm which allowed it to swing out over the fire pit. Beyond the pit was some sort of brick and mud structure.

This is not good, he thought. The spit was over six feet long and the pot was big enough to hold a man. He realized the mud and brick structure was a large oven. I don't want to think about it, he thought. And of course that didn't work. He knew assumptions were often wrong but it was difficult to ignore the obvious. He had been captured by a group of women who intended to cook and eat him.

He had counted thirteen women of various ages in the camp. They all seemed busy with chores and he was generally ignored, but occasionally one would squat down by him and stroke and tease him to the edge of orgasm before going back to her duties. Each time he was sure he was going to get off and each time he was left hanging.

He watched in morbid fascination as the preparations continued. One of the women removed the spit and began building a fire in the fire pit. Two women brought two five-gallon buckets of water for the pot which they swung out over the fire. Another put brush and logs in the oven's firebox.

After the water in the pot began to steam, the two water carriers came up to him. The shorter one roughly pushed him down so that his chest was against his thighs and bound him in that position by connecting the rope around his knees to the one around his chest. They slipped a pole between his chest and thighs which they used to lift him and place him in the rapidly heating pot.

“Hot tub time,” said the tall one with a laugh. She removed the carrying pole and arranged his bound body so that only his head was above the water.

“We'll be having dinner soon,” said the tall one. “You're welcome to come, but it looks like you're gonna be tied up for a while.”

“We could save you a drumstick if you like,” suggested the other.

They both laughed and walked away. 'Great', he thought. 'It's not enough to be captured by cannibals. They have to be comedians too'.

The water continued to heat up. It wasn't uncomfortable yet but was definitely getting hotter. He wondered why he wasn't frightened. He was watching as preparations were made to cook and eat him, yet he didn't seem to be frantic or even worried, which surprised him. In reality, he realized he was only afraid of one thing: he would never be allowed the orgasm that had been building since his capture. But there was no fear of what appeared to be his impending doom.

After a while, one of the women came over to the pot and began kneading his flesh.

“Just checking for tenderness,” she told him. Then she reached in the water and once again treated him to a near-orgasm before walking away. This happened several times. Eventually the gag was removed and he was once again fed a mug of the turnip mush after which he once again passed out.

When he awoke it was evening. He was lying on his back. His legs were still doubled up and now his wrists were tied to his ankles in front, with his knees still drawn up to his chest. He was lying on a bed of what felt like rice and was in a roasting pan, surrounded by heaps of carrots and potatoes. His mouth had been opened wider than he thought possible and was filled with a large apple. One of the women smiled down at him.

“You look delicious,” she said, running her hands over his bound legs. “And I want you to know how grateful we all are for you. It's time to roast you now so this is goodbye. But I think you should know you've been chosen for the Feast of Athena. She's the owl who brought you to us. She'll get to eat your cock. The rest of us will have to settle for those delectable arms and legs. Ooh, and that chest. And those shoulders. You are quite a piece, I must say.”

She then reached between his thighs and gave his cock a final tease before putting the cover on the pan and sliding him into the oven.

He lay in the darkness, feeling the heat build up. He smelled roasting meat and felt the ropes biting into his body. There was no fear or pain or discomfort, perhaps due to something in the mush he'd been fed. After almost twenty four hours of unrelenting teasing, his cock was twitching and throbbing and had never been so hard. He began squirming in the rice and felt the pressure building in his loins. He knew he was about to become the main course at a dinner for thirteen women and an owl. He realized that his entire life had led up to this. That some part of him had always known he was meat waiting to be cooked and eaten. That all his exercising and iron-pumping had been to make himself more attractive and delicious so that he would be chosen for this honor.

As this realization entered his brain, he smiled broadly around the apple, made one more mighty thrust against the ropes that bound him, and finally reached the incredible climax he had been waiting for. As the semen gushed from him and coated his arms and legs and torso, he blissfully lost consciousness.


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