Viande Exotique
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Marc squirmed nervously in his seat. It wasn't that the umber haired youth was uncomfortable per se. Rather, it was that his date was carrying herself with a certain intensity, which meant the drake had very specific, very gourmet plans for the evening's meal. The fact that the table before him was absolutely empty, save for the scarlet tablecloth and dim white candles, despite Xera's insistence that she'd take care of dinner this time, told him all he needed to know. If his sense of self preservation had outweighed his libido, he might have made the smart decision to bail then and there. However there was something about the lizard girl's piercing purple gaze that pinned him to the spot. Add to it that the form-fitting onyx dress she'd chosen for the day was barely able to contain her breasts as she leaned forward, and the horny human never stood a chance really.
 
 
“So, sweety.” Xera never really used pet names like that. It went against her tomboyish nature. The fact that she was opening with it now meant she was either sarcastic, or feeling particularly impish and desirous. “I know I said I'd cover the meal tonight, but… well… you know today is Altmarnian Thanksgiving… don't you? You won't be too mad at me for leading you on…” She gave a long, mischievous grin, before crawling over the table, swiping the candles slightly as she went, to lift his chin. “Will you?”
 
 
Marc felt something gnawing in the pit of his stomach. Drakes were known to enjoy… more exotic meals than humans, to put it diplomatically. The primitive side of his brain was screaming at him to abort, but there was another… equally primal part of him that kept him firmly planted, particularly as the lizard girl pressed herself into his face. She was like an animal in heat, and he was no different.
 
 
“O-of course not…” Marc swallowed hard. He had no reason to keep playing her game, but they both knew he was beyond help at this point. “N-never let i-it be said of me that I d-disrespected another… culture… right?”
 
 
Xera held him ever closer, practically smothering him in the golden scales of her bosom at this point. “Mhhhh… That's why I love you hon~ So understanding~” With that, she then slowly scooted herself off of the table, quite intentionally letting her dress catch on one of its corners, and pull upward, revealing to the lad that she had gone entirely commando for the evening. That was more like the Xera he knew and loved. The tomboyish lizard was never one for fancy dresses, or formality. She'd gussied up for him, but still couldn't get herself to listen to her mother… so to speak. Not that he was complaining.
 
 
Marc swooned softly at the sight. The truth was that he knew the drake had been playing him for a meal for the entire ten months that they'd been dating, and he didn't care. Not anymore anyway. As terrified as he was, the act of turning down that perfect ass, and those curvaceous breasts was absolutely unthinkable to him. The way her thick, scaly tail swayed back and forth behind her, now and again giving the perfect view of just her underbutt, cemented the spell she'd cast over him. This wasn't a romantic relationship any longer. It was simply one between a cook… and her meat. As she daintily gripped his wrists, to then pull him out of the chair, and towards her kitchen, he just couldn't give an ounce of resistance… following her as though he were a helpless, hypnotized victim.
 
 
—
 
 
The kitchen itself was a grand affair, fitting for a modern princess, which was exactly how Xera viewed herself. Genuine, polished hardwood siding in comforting dark tones dominated the eyescape down its length, accentuated with black marble tabletops and simple, yet elegant tile flooring. It made sense that this room out of all of them would receive so much attention. The drake was a foodie, to say the least. If anywhere in the house was to be her lair… her den of delight, it would be this place.
 
 
Marc remained firmly planted behind the girl, his eyes glued to her wide hips as they bounced with every step. He’d made the right choice, or so he told himself at this point. Disappointing a catch like her would be a fool’s way out. What was more… she loved him after all. Things wouldn’t go… there. They simply couldn’t. He could stand to help her stuff a turkey, metaphorically speaking, if it meant keeping access to that butt.
 
 
Xera approached the largest island table in the middle of the kitchen, and spun around with a flourish that caused her tail to fly up for a bit, to the centrifugal force. This, of course lifted her dress as well, and the drooling human had to snap back to attention when she spoke. Now wasn’t the time to make a caveman of himself in front of her.
 
 
“Well? What do you think?” She asked innocently, as she patted the tabletop. “I spent like… ten grand on this place. The oven has all the most modern conveniences, so it’ll be like going to sleep in a duchess’s bed~”
 
Marc hopped up onto the table like an obedient puppy the moment she patted it a second time. “Oh? How intriguing~” He didn’t quite put together why she associated the oven with “going to sleep” or… perhaps he didn’t allow himself to understand it.
 
 
“Well? Don’t just sit there hun…” Xera bit her lip as she looked him up and down. “It’ll be a lot easier to work with you once all that’s taken off, you know.”
 
 
Marc could feel his heart skip a beat. She was already being so forward. Ordinarily she would have been a good deal more… taunting. More playfully evasive. She must need it badly, and who was he to deny her satisfaction? All it took was a few quick motions to unbutton the dress shirt he’d been wearing all this time, then another to pull it off his heaving, eager chest. Xera seemed to appreciate the gesture, staring at his firm abs and giving a long swoon.
 
 
“Mhhhh~ Just how I like it~” she thought aloud, running a finger over his torso. “Chiseled, but not inflated, so to speak~” She giggled to herself, then firmly, yet delicately pushed the young man onto his back. “Now be a good boy, and wait there for just a moment~ I’ve got to get a few things set up for our… big hoorah~”
 
 
Xera stepped back from the table, her full frame still visible, if only slightly, from Marc's position. She then stepped away, her heels clacking against the tiles as she went. Once the step stopped, Marc could see, barely from looking over his chest, that she was bending over and staring into the cool light of her refrigerator.
 
 
“Hmm… How do you feel about a bit of tang hun?” asked the lizard contemplatively. “Like… a citrusy flavor?”
 
 
Still aloof, either wilfully or otherwise, to what exactly the sharptoothed girl was doing, Marc simply laid there as he thought. “I think… with a good bit of pepper it can give meat a real zing~”
 
 
“Mhh… Good idea.” Just as quickly as Marc had says that, the drake was pulling out a large bag of bright yellow powder. “You've got good taste~” The girl's double entendre was only clear to herself at the moment, much to her predatory glee. “But enough foreplay hun, it’s Altmarnian Thanksgiving, and we’re gonna have a party~”
 
 
Marc watched as his girl flipped out her phone. Where she’d kept it, he had no idea. She then typed a few quick fingerstrokes in and pulled the device to her face.
 
 
“Hey girls~ I got the centerpiece~” she mentioned absently, twirling the hem of her dress as she spoke. “Yeah I figure it’ll be about three or four hours, but you’re more than welcome to show up early if you wanna play some games~”
 
 
Marc instinctively sat up at the thought of having… company, only for Xera to point forward and down, directing him to lie flat once again.
 
 
“Yeah. I already got everything ready.” Xera looked up for a moment, as if in thought. “Well, except dinner but… you know. On that.”
 
 
Marc could only wait for his girl to finish, chittering about this or that. Apparently she’d planned a get together with her friends for the holiday as well as with him. Not that he minded terribly. Xera had… an absolute palette of exotic friends that were fun to be around, if a little… eccentric.
 
 
“Umm… Should I get dressed then?” he finally dared to ask, earning a stare from the drake before she answered.
 
 
“Absolutely not. If anything, it just means you and I need to work a bit faster.” she finally answered, approaching the table and producing a ball of twine from one of the drawers. “Now… Be still, mmkay?”
 
 
“O…kay?” Marc forced his hands to rest at his sides, allowing the drake girl to do as she wished. He'd never quite played with BDSM like this. At least that was what he assumed the twine was for.
 
 
“Mhhh… You know what I like about you babe?” asked Xera absently as she first secured a few laps of twine around his ankles. “You're always so supportive, and gung-ho of whatever dumb thing I just throw on the agenda~” With that she then reached over him, letting her bosom glance over his exposed, erect manhood, which of course only served to get him even more stiff. “Oh we're all going to have so much fun tonight~” From her new position, she reached to either side to grip his wrists. “Arch your back upwards hun.”
 
 
Marc didn't even question the command. He simply lifted up without giving a second thought. Of course, the lizard girl's praise only spurred him to move forward like this. Seeing her this excited, and pleased with him was like a drug. He wanted more.
 
 
Xera quickly took the opportunity to slide his wrists together underneath him and sightlessly bind them together. She was… much more skilled at this than he'd expected. After all… she did have a life before, and aside from him. Maybe she was a girl scout when she was younger? “Okay, you can relax again. I gotta plan out exactly how I'm gonna do this.”
 
 
Marc flopped back down, watching his girl head away to look under the sink. “Hmm…” She gripped her chin lightly, as if weighing her options. “Well… It is traditional after all.” Moments later, she pulled out a large, ancestral looking platter, baring a single pole to one side that ended in a rounded, decorative bulb. A large ball gag,pristine and shiny, dangled by its closed strap from the pole. Of course she was into foodplay like this. That was his Xera… “What do you think? It'll make a good throne for you.” Xera smiled impishly at that.
 
 
Either the platter was lighter than it looked, or Xera was stronger than Marc had realized. She carried the dinnerware back to his island surprisingly swiftly, the excitement in her eyes only growing with each passing second. This time, she didn't even ask anything of her boy, instead gripping his head and lifting up to slide the platter underneath him.
 
 
Marc yelped in surprise at the cold metal's feeling on his back, but within seconds his body had warmed it sufficiently to be a bit more bearable. “Heh… Y-you don't mind… going a bit easy on me, do you babe?” he asked calmly, with only the slightest bit of uncertainty showing on his face. “It is… my first time doing it this way after all.”
 
 
Xera gave him an empathic look that quickly turned more mischievous. “Oh… but honey… Don't you know? You only get to pop that cherry one time.” She then licked her lips, getting back into character, in a way. “And from now on, until the day I die, you're going to be my little bitch… Understand?”
 
 
She didn't give him time to answer, instead quickly affixing the gag into his mouth. “There… comfy?”
 
 
Marc only grunted in response.
 
 
Xera then proceeded to rub a hand over his thigh. There was something in her eyes. Something he'd seen before, in less pronounced extremes. The drake bit her lip, and let her fingers glide up his legs, all the way up to his manhood, where she proceeded to fondle his balls in a motion that was simultaneously delicate, and domineering at the same time. In a way that wordlessly told Marc, she could crush them then and there if she wanted to… Fortunately she didn't want to.
 
 
Her eyes shifted ever so slightly to his shaft, now fully erect in full view, thanks in no small part to the way her fingers felt. She took his diameter between her thumb and two forefingers, not quite squeezing yet. Rather, lightly gripping him, gliding up and down his length. She could see the sensations he was feeling, reading his expression like a book. Like most men, he was easy to read, and it didn't take much to get him absolutely riled.
 
 
“Mhhh~” Xera's expression turned a bit devious as she continued. “We've barely even started, and you're already so worked up.” She finally gave Marc's sword a bit of a squeeze, much to his groaning delight, then let her hand fall back to his thigh. She traveled back down until she landed at his now bound ankles once more, and proceeded to gently nudge his legs inward, until both were bowed slightly. Finally, she gripped the twine that forced his feet together, and lifted up. Up and forward. Marc had to grunt again, unused to contorting himself so much. He felt intense, and vulnerable, like nothing more than a slab of meat for this woman to inspect… and, he realized he liked it. It was so intense to have her control his every feeling and sensation like this. Exciting in a way no other woman had ever been for him.
 
 
By now Xera had maneuvered his legs such that the were tucked neatly behind his head, and was humming a little tune to herself as she tied them to the platter's pole behind him. “Oh, I think my friends are just going to fall in love with you~” she thought aloud, taking a step back to check her work. “But for the moment, I've got you all to myself~”
 
 
—
 
 
Marc wasn't sure how much time had passed. He only knew that Xera's tongue felt amazing on his manhood. What was more, the intense fear of having all those sharp teeth, so close to his equipment, only served to elevate his arousal all the more. Maybe… he was something of a masochist. Maybe Xera was helping him discover a little something about himself that he'd never known before. Add to it that she kept mentioning her coming friends… It was clear she wasn't going to release him any time soon. That looming threat of humiliation was… newly intriguing to him. All those other women… oggling his body like a toy. The thought sent chills up his spine.
 
 
And then they both heard it. The doorbell rang, held for a few seconds with an annoying buzz. That… had to be Katie. The human attention whore couldn't just press the button once and be done with it. No… She had to spam it, or pin it down until she was heard. Judging from the way Xera rolled her eyes, but smiled all the same, she recognized it as well.
 
 
“Oh my gawd~ Xera! Are you ready to have the best Thanksgiving ever?”
 
 
Sure enough, the moment Xera let the guest in, Marc could hear the slightly nasally tone of her voice, and the sharp downturn of her western accent. It never quite… annoyed him per se. Though he was a bit frustrated that she had a tendency to talk over him all the time… Not that he'd be doing much talking.
 
 
He started to squirm a bit uncomfortably. He thought he'd had enough time to adjust to the idea of letting all of Xera's friends see him like this. Now that it was really happening though, it was a very different story.
 
 
“You said you really had everything set up this time?” Dominique's voice, was contrastingly monotone. Deep but still feminine. The wolf girl was a good deal more pragmatic, and less excitable than her friends. “Last year we had to order out. Remember?”
 
 
“Oh don't be like that.” Xera pouted. “Where's Barb?”
 
 
“She got caught up in a spat with her boyfriend.” Katie answered. “Says she'll be here later.”
 
 
“Well, you girls wanna come in and meet the turkey?” Xera asked, before the sound of three sets of footsteps could be heard coming closer.
 
 
Marc fidgeted all the more. The turkey? What did she mean by that? Probably some added bit to her BDSM kink.
 
 
Katie was the first to enter the kitchen. Her long, blonde, permed hair bobbing almost unnaturally with every step. As usual, the girl had no filter whatsoever. Immediately she put both hands to her cheek and cooed loudly. “Oh my gawd! This one's so cute! Where'd you pick him up?”
 
 
“Heh… Been seeing him since last year actually.” answered the drake. “Figured it's about time. You ladies wanna help butter him up?”
 
 
“Definitely~” Dominique's dark furred form stepped just into sight, where she licked her lips.
 
 
Marc felt something sink in the pit of his stomach. It only now occurred to him that… Xera would have had to invite these three beforehand. Had her intent been right from the beginning to embarrass him like this? So much for their date…
 
 
Before another word was said, Xera made for the refrigerator, producing several large sticks of butter before softening them all in the microwave. In that time both of the guests had flanked both sides of the table he was on, and taken to prodding at his most sensitive area. All the while giggling like schoolgirls.
 
 
Nope… He definitely hadn't been ready for this. His whole body went bright red with mortification. Of course,the wide eyes he gave them only seemed to encourage their domineering behavior all the more. It was as though they were feral cats, and he was nothing more than a mouse they’d found in the alleyway. Xera never did things half way. He should have known that she’d be keen to drop him into the deep end right at the beginning. For now, all he could do was breathe heavily, and enjoy it to the best of his ability.
 
 
“Hehe~ Like… where’d you find this one?” Katie asked, giggling as she flicked Marc’s manhood like it was nothing more than a springed doorstop.
 
 
“Met in a bar.” Xera’s answer was blunt, and to Marc, somewhat dismissive. “Really found his accent cute, and I guess I couldn’t help myself.”
 
 
“Slut.” Dominique accused, rather pointedly.
 
 
“Guilty~” Xera smirked. Marc hadn’t been paying attention to what she’d been doing, until she approached the table with a large bowl, from which a sharp, fruity scent wafted. No, not quite fruity. More like… lemon? “Now…” Xera’s voice shifted to a motherly one, as if she were scolding children. “You girls are gonna help with dinner, or none for you.” Her mouth twisted into a playful smile for a moment. She couldn’t particularly hold the joke for long.
 
 
“Ugh… Yes miss Amiri…” Dominique played the annoyed student rather well, but soon after slid into a smirk just as well.
 
 
With that, the two guests left to wash their hands and return moments later, quickly dipping their fingers into the mixture that Xera had brought. Their hands hit Marc’s chest like a bag of ice, and he couldn’t help but flinch as his nipples were brought erect at the sensation. He couldn’t deny it any longer. Xera had been playing him all this time. Like a fiddle in fact. She had no sympathy whatsoever as he stared in her direction. In fact, she rested a single elbow on the table, cupping her chin in her hand as she drank in his nervousness like a fine wine.
 
 
Katie was by far the most enthusiastic. Her hands slid over Marc’s body, enamored with one body part after another at inconsistent speeds. It was as though she had some sort of sexual ADHD, moving from his chest, to his shoulders, and then sliding down to grip his ass, leaving a trail of shiny, oily substance every time she shifted.
 
 
Dominique on the other hand was more consistent. She’d begun with one of his buttocks, squeezing tightly as she ran her hands in tight circles, and she continued this clockwise motion up his thigh, meticulously scrubbing the tart mixture all over him like he was some sort of trophy she was polishing.
 
 
Xera, for her part, seemed content to watch, savoring his every motion. Marc had never quite noticed just how… carnivorous her teeth were until this very moment. She was positively malicious, in the way she stared back at him. Hungry…
 
 
“Well girls. I was going to wait for Barb…” began the lizard girl. “But you know what? I'm getting hungry. Let's move on to stuffing.”
 
 
Marc grunted in protest, but this only seemed to amuse the girls. This little play was getting to be a little bit much for him.
 
 
“Should we start easy on him?” asked Dominique. “You know… avoid tearing him up?”
 
 
“Nah.” Xera's response was immediate and definite. “I know him. He's tried it up the butt a bunch of times already. No need to ease him in.”
 
 
“Then let's get to work!” Katie slammed a large bowl, full of mushy and bready carbs, onto the island beside Marc. She'd been so stealthy that he didn't even see her leave to get it.
 
 
His muffled noises only picked up in frequency, as all he could do was eye the bowl warily. They couldn't be serious, could they? That was trouble waiting to happen, down the line.
 
 
Xera wasted no more time, not even letting her boy come to terms with it before she'd grabbed a handful of the stuff. She kept her hand relatively flat, with her thumb up and fingers pointed so that she could easily penetrate his winking, panicking pucker.
 
 
Marc's cry of surprise only served to encourage her all the more. The next handful was a bit more generously full. Her fingers curled inwards just a little more into a fist.
 
 
Katie's followup was even less cautious. She'd grabbed so much of the stuff that it was leaking out the sides of her fist. Marc's attempt to shift his hips to the side in avoidance did nothing to stop her.
 
 
“MGGGH!” He lurched forward in pain as much as the ropes would give, then whimpered as Dominique gripped his ass to prevent him from struggling any more. “Nhhhhh… niiiihhh…”
 
 
“See? I told you he was experienced.” Xera smirked. “I bet he can fit this entire bowl. No prob…”
 
 
Dingdong!
 
 
She was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. “Ah~ That must be Barb. You two keep going…”
 
 
Something about his girlfriend leaving him so vulnerable just to get the door stung Marc, in a way. Then again, it was also… strangely hot. She'd left two women he only knew by association, to play with him to their hearts’ content. It was… an exotic experience.
 
 
Then again. They seemed to have no concern for his comfort whatsoever. Every handful was bigger than the last, and all the lad could do was watch as his lower belly started to swell painfully… and pleasuredly.
 
 
“Glad you could finally come~” He heard Xera say to her latest guest. “Trouble with your piggy?”
 
 
“Yeah…” Barbara's voice was deep for a woman. “Upset about me forgetting our anniversary. Think I'm gonna cull him next week for being such a bitch.”
 
 
“Ohhh! Don't forget to invite me~” Xera replied. I'll bring a side dish~”
 
 
“Sounds like a plan. Maybe some of that fruit and marshmallow salad? What'd you call it?”
 
 
“Panic?” Xera answered. “You know that's just supposed to be a last minute thing right? I can make something more proper.”
 
 
“Yeah, but you know… I've really been craving it… Now… where's your turkey?”
 
 
“Just about ready for the oven. Come on. Should we finish him?”
 
 
Xera then re-entered the kitchen, with the newly arrived muscular, red-headed human just behind her. “How's he holding up?”
 
 
“Starting to get a little wiggly.” Katie explained, just before painfully flicking his still-erect manhood. “But that's just how we like it… You wanna do the last bit?” She then turned her attention to Barbara.
 
 
“Gladly… Thanks for holding out for me, girls.” The towering hulk of a woman somehow managed to maintain something of a feminine appeal, thanks in no small part to her long, flowing, naturally curled hair, which she was already pulling back. As she did, the scar that ran across the bridge of her nose lifted to one side with the crooked smile she followed up with.
 
 
—
 
 
If the others’ fists were uncomfortable, Barbara's was downright painful. After taking a short time to clean up, her hands could probably have fit nearly double the amount of stuffing in their palms, and she had zero of the dainty restraint that the others did. Though there were only two more humiliating handfuls, it took twice as much effort to endure them as it did that of the others.
 
 
“Alright…” The tough woman rubbed the top of her head with her forearm. “That's as much as we're getting in there. You ladies got a plug garnish?”
 
 
“Way ahead of you.” came Xera's voice, as she approached from the refrigerator carrying a mutantly massive daikon. “It's gonna be cold at first hun…” she warned Marc looking directly into his pleading eyes. “But you'll be grateful for that in a minute.” Her eyes turned up as she thought for a bit. “Well… briefly. “
 
 
With that she spun the vegetable around a few times, before mercilessly jamming it into Marc's already sore backdoor. All the while, a cruel smile graced her snout, even as she jostled it to find the best fit.
 
 
Marc squealed loudly, and writhed in pleasurable pain as his girlfriend worked. For the moment he was beyond worry. All he could think about was the sensations that were so callously being forced on him. It was simply too hard to think.
 
 
“Wait… the oven's not preheated.” Dominique, who'd been relatively quiet since the barbarian arrived, finally spoke up again. “I just realized… Dangit. I'm hungry!”
 
 
“Oh don't be like that.” Xera looked to the latest arrival. “I'm trying a new technique that involves slowly raising the temp. Barb? Would you?”
 
 
“With pleasure~”
 
 
Marc was hit with a sudden wave of vertigo, as the redhead lifted both the platter, and he himself rather effortlessly. He could see his girlfriend rush over to the oven… then open it and give an inviting gesture to her friend.
 
 
No… no this wasn't real! It had to be some sexual game and nothing more.
 
 
And yet… Barb marched forward, closer and closer to the cooking appliance, before finally, laying the poor sod down… and shoving him face forward, into the darkness.
 
 
The oven door closed with a flinch inducing slam, and for the shortest of moments Marc was left in silent shade, barely able to see the shadows of the women against the heading element just ahead. This had to be a joke. All part of some elaborate sensual roleplay Xera was into. After all… the oven wasn't…
 
 
On…
 
 
No sooner had the lad thought that, then had an annoying buzz begin to fill the air around him. And… no sooner had the buzz started, than had the thick metal coils started to glow. Initially the heat was actually somewhat comfortable, especially after being naked in the open air for so long.
 
 
That changed very quickly. Soon enough there was a slight burning sensation right against his abused ass and exposed family jewels. Of course one of the areas he'd most want to protect was the first to know the metaphorical fire's kiss. The shadows disappeared as the oven became the thing casting the light, rather than the one catching it. Marc could no longer see the presence of the cruel crowd behind him, but he could most certainly still hear it. Their mocking laughter pierced right through any hope he might have dared to hold onto in all of this. It had gone far past a bit embarrassing. Now he was downright humiliated to the last nerve.
 
 
So… why was he still erect? As any man’s mind would, Marc's began to entertain fantasies of how he'd escape all this. Of what he'd do and say to the girls as a sort of vengeance. He'd show them he was much more than a sexual object to enjoy and discard. Yet… he couldn't deny that he was still… hard… in all this. His heart was beating quickly for more than one reason, and he hated that.
 
 
Muffled noises made it through the door while he pondered all this. Laughing, shuffling about, and… was that a bottle opening? Were they drinking to the idea of his encroaching demise?
 
 
He couldn't just sit here. He had to try something. It took a considerable amount of effort to shimmy to one side. Xera was… quite skilled in her knotmaking, and knew exactly what she was doing. To bend to one side was to put painful pressure on the other. Nonetheless, Marc was able to get a decent wobble going after a bit of effort, even lifting one side of the platter on a few occasions.
 
 
This, of course, only led to more jeering from the safe side of the oven door, and after a few minutes of stalling at the same place in his shaking, he was discouraged enough to stop…
 
 
“So, you're really thinking of taking the axe to your guy, Barb?” He could barely make out Dominique's voice.
 
 
“Yeah. Little guy's getting way to big for his britches…”
 
 
Marc felt something heavy build up in his throat. Was that all men were to these… freaks? Disposable meat?
 
 
—
 
 
Slowly, the lights ahead grew too bright for him to even look at any longer. He was surprised at how quickly his body adapted to the painful surge of heat that came over him and just, didn't stop. Perhaps that… frog in boiling water concept really did hold… well, water, so to speak. Of course, this wasn't much consolation to the squealing survival instinct he'd since become too weak to heed.
 
 
Marc wanted to be angry. He wanted to give those women a piece of his mind. This was the thanks he got for being open to Altmarnian culture? Surely even in Xera's homeland, people had to sign some kind of waiver to be treated like this. Right? Surely the way she'd gone about this was criminal… right?
 
 
And yet… the more he thought about her… about her gorgeously thick feather hair, and her eye-poppingly beautiful gold and emerald scales… The more he thought about her impossibly perfect curves… the harder it was to stay furious, and not keep his johnson twitching. Of course he could still be terrified. He could still feel betrayed, but how much of all this was his own fault for falling head over heels for a lovely exotic girl? Earlier she'd said he'd be her bitch, until she died… How much of a lie had that been?
 
 
—
 
 
Marc passed the time, narrowly clinging to some string of sanity by by… well… passing time. He attempted to count every minute he was exposed to the brutal heat. By his figures, it had already been some merciless forty-five minutes since all this started, give or take a bit for when he'd first been shoved in and wasn't counting.
 
 
It was right about at this mark that Barbara opened the oven door. Marc could make out her distinctive heavy breathing. The woman definitely fetishized pain. Both her own and others’. She took in the hot air through her nostrils like it alone was the scent of fresh baked cookies. Or maybe it was him? Or both?
 
 
Marc weakly opened his eyes. The world was nothing but a blur for him but… his hearing still worked perfectly.
 
 
“What do you gals think? The sounding rod?”
 
 
Marc's heart skipped a beat at that.
 
 
“Yeah. Wanna keep that cute lithe thing stiff, even when he croaks.”
 
 
Marc felt one of the women flick his manhood at that, causing him to whimper pathetically.
 
 
“Alright, you three start basting him. I'll get his poker pricked.”
 
 
Once again Marc felt six hands begin to slide all over his body, to the tune of incessant giggling as it all happened. The relatively room temperature oil felt pleasantly cool on his convection baked skin, but that little nicety was not to last.
 
 
He felt the tiny bulb against his tip first. If he had the capacity to, he would have flinched, but by now his body was far beyond that. The feeling of it finally piercing his hole did manage to draw a squeak from him, but that was all. All that remained was to feel it press deeper, and deeper, until it forced his manhood straight and tall. Any other time, this might have been exciting and sensual, but now…
 
 
“Alright girls~ Garnish is next, then you know what to do~”
 
 
Marc didn't even have time to close his mouth, as someone removed the gag, before something sweet and crispy took its place. All he could do was groan in protest…
 
 
 
 
Before being sent to meet the heat once more…
 
 
—
 
 
“Ugh… I can't take it any longer!” whined Katie, as she tapped the island impatiently. “It's been hours! If he's not done yet. I'm snacking on the cranberry sauce…”
 
 
“Aww. Don't be like that.” Xera groaned in annoyance. “The only pig is supposed to be the one in the oven.” She slowly sat up from the table, still dressed up in the way it was when Marc had been there. The girls had been playing cards. Specifically strip poker, and Dominique had lost by a large margin. “I'll go check again…”
 
 
When the drake opened the oven door, she was greeted by the heavenly scent of one very warm, and very ex, boyfriend, and the sizzling noise his flesh gave off. She wasn't quite sure exactly when her little pig had stopped moving, and she didn't quite care. For now she took the nearby carving fork, and pressed it carefully into his right thigh.
 
 
Immediately, a subtle dribble of savory juices, which had mingled with the citrusy oils that had long absorbed into his skin, trickled is way down the leg to sizzle on the heat of the platter. More telling than that however, was the ease with which the fork sank into the meat. Marc really was done, finally, after an appetite inducing wait.
 
 
“Well what do you know? Think he's done girls. Wanna help me get him on the table?”
 
 
No sooner had Xera even finished the question, than had all three of the others made their way to the kitchen. Within moments, they were all carrying Marc's steaming body back to the dining room, salivating like mad.
 
 
Once their pig, or turkey, as some preferred to call out, had been given a few minutes to cool to a safe temperature, Xera said a bit of grace, if only out of tradition, to the Altmarnian god, Feros. Now it was time to dig in. Naturally, the lad's sword was the first thing to go. Xera made short work of slicing it into eight thick medallions, still skewered on the sounding rod they'd pierced him with hours ago. As the host and… acquirer, Xera reserved both the tip and the base for herself, divvying up the rest for the others.
 
 
Once that was complete, the boy's ass proved to be the most popular font of meat, with the four of them fighting over not just seconds, but thirds as well. Much to Dominique's frustration, Katie managed to snag both nipples, and the wolf girl vowed revenge at their next feast, not that Katie seemed concerned. In regard to the boy's jewels, Xera surrendered one to Katie, whilst holding the other for her own, personal leftover. Lastly, as they began to fill up on both Marc meat and generous helpings of sides, both Xera and Barb managed to find enough room for two ribs and a bit of drumstick each.
 
 
Fighting through the encroaching food coma, Xera parted out the remaining food into four tupperware containers to divide amongst everyone. The remains were either reserved for broth or discarded. With… one distinct exception. Xera, those who were close to her often knew, had plans.
 
 
Marc had been a sweetheart, but his naivete had landed him little more than a spot at Xera's dinner table. A delicious spot… but most certainly not the spot he'd hoped for.
 
 
But Xera wasn't done yet. Neither was Marc, regardless of whether he wanted to be, or not. Xera was… connected, to the more magically inclined side of society. The promise… or command… that she'd made to Marc earlier… still had yet to be fulfilled.
 
 
—
 
 
“And… I'd like his head back, when you're done.” she told the witch. “I've got an idea for that.”
 
 
The sorceress simply nodded. “As long as you have my fee…” Within moments, the old hag fell into a deep trance, as ancient words spilled from her mouth that only she could understand.
 
 
Marc gasped loudly, and looked around confusedly at his smooth iron surroundings. It took him several seconds to look upwards and see the open air waiting for him. No sooner had he gripped the cauldron's lip, than Xera had forcefully lifted him up by the wrist, grinning evilly into his confused face.
 
 
“I told you you were going to be mine until I died.” She reached out to retrieve the lad's head, from his previous body, and hold it just to Marc’s peripheral vision. “See this? We're going to hang it over the kitchen table, to remind you what's going to happen every time you bore me, or make me angry…” She thought for a moment, then produced the ball she'd severed and saved from his roasted body the night before. As usual, she didn't give him an opportunity to respond or… even think really. She simply plopped the oyster into his mouth, and pinched his lips closed. “Or any time the whimsy crosses me, really…”