Throttle chuckled to himself as he pulled his roasting spit out of the fire, lightly squeezing the hot dog on its end to test how well it cooked in the flames. “Seriously, bro, I think there's safer ways to test out heat play; you could've seriously burned yourself, there.”

	Modo gave his bro a sardonic look, crossing his arms in mock indignation. “It's not my fault that you two were distracting me while I was building the fire. You should've waited for me.”

	“Distracting, nothing,” Vinnie interjected, taking a swig of his root beer. He gripped his cock in his hand and waggled it at the gray mouse, teasingly. “You looked like you wanted to get your chestnuts roasted over the open fire. You were practically humping the coals.”

	Mock-pouting in feigned insult, Modo spread his legs wider and inched his hips closer to the fire, exposing his genitals to more of the dangerous heat of the flames. He moaned and rubbed his growing erection, the spike in warmth and the occasional spark that landed on his length sending shivers down his spine. “And what's wrong with that, hmm? It felt fuckin' amazing shooting off in there. Felt like I was humping the hottest ass I've ever had. And besides, I didn't get burned, so what's the big deal?”

	“So, you wanted your wang roasted?” Throttle asked, returning his hot dog into the fire. “Should we start using mustard as lube with you?”

	“Or maybe we should get some cheese to melt over his cock,” Vinnie added, giggling. “Get it all nice and gooey for riding, eh?”

	The brown mouse wrinkled his nose in a brief display of disgust. “That's sick, man!” He then smiled wickedly, rubbing his own crotch as his cock started stiffening. “Sick, but fun. How 'bout it, bro? Your foot-long, fire-roasted hot dog with all the fixings stuffed in some meaty buns. Bet that gets you all worked up, doesn't it?”

	Modo's pout deepened as his cock grew to full mast, the gray rodent pointing it defiantly at the fire's edge. At that close proximity, the tip of his cock barely reached the edge of the fire pit, causing the sweat and precum on it to sizzle audibly from the heat. “And whose buns would that be, hmm? You volunteering to to provide the buns for my hot dog, Throttle?”

	Throttle blinked and grinned, wryly, pulling out the wiener on his spit as he stroked on the one between his legs. He glanced at Vinnie, grin widening, before responding: “If you can get Vin to eat it out, afterward, I'm game...”

	Now it was Vinnie's turn to look disgusted. “What, seriously? Like, actually eating food from your ass?” He took a swig of his root beer, scowling a little. “Now that is sick, man...”

	Throttle shrugged and brought the cooked hot dog to his mouth, giving it a long, sensuous suck before nibbling on it. With that, the trio fell silent for a few minutes, the image of the proposed act hanging in the air uncomfortably. None of them did much during that time, besides eat and stroke themselves off; Vinnie looked like he was trying to get the image out of his head, while Throttle looked passive as ever. Modo, however, looked deep in thought, his thumb rubbing along the scorching head of his cock. Suddenly, he stood up, a resolute look on his face. “Alright, I'm game. Let's do this.”

	That shocked both his bros, who dropped what they were doing to stare at him in surprised disturbance. “Really?” Vinnie asked, his visage twisting more in disgust. “You can't be serious, man!”

	Modo nodded, still kneading his hard-on. “We all saw that I can handle the heat, and it's not like you jokers are going to quit teasing me about it unless something happens, so why not? Let's go!”

	Throttle shook his head, dropping the wiener in his mouth. “Dude, we've done some crazy things in the past, but this... I dunno...”

	The gray mouse frowned in annoyance. “Hey, remember the rules of this camping trip? No fetish questioned, no offer refused. I wanna do this, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let either of you two stop me. Besides,” he continued, looking back at their bikes with a wink, “I picked up a few gallons of some medical gel Rimfire was working on, something about fast-regenerating nanites or whatever. Even if something serious should go wrong, we should be fine with that stuff.”

	The two other mice tried to say something to that, say anything to dissuade their bro... and failed. Modo was right, they did agree that no fetish – no matter how gross or outlandish – would be denied, as a way of building up trust with each other as lovers. It wasn't as if any of them were virgins to this kind of thing; they all loved having rough and brutal sex with each other, often engaging in BDSM and humiliation play with each other, but nothing this extreme. Then again... Throttle, being the mouse more familiar with Modo's sexual quirks than Vinnie, knew of the gray rodent's mild lust for food play, having been convinced to “eat out” their dinners from each other's asses when they had the place to themselves; cooking Modo's cock like a hot dog and being fucked by it was little different than shoving actual cooked hot dogs up his ass, and the thought of it did appeal to him. Vinnie was more cautious; he had the least experience with extreme sex, so many of the things Modo and Throttle did together were alien to him. In fact, before now, he thought of himself as being quite vanilla when it came to sexual kinks. He honestly didn't expect much more than rough, carefree fucking from any of them, so what Modo was proposing freaked him out something fierce. And yet... He had his suspicions that his bros were kinkier than they let on to him, and by agreeing to the rules of the trip, he did resign himself to being the test subject of any freakish whim they wanted to do with him. He had to support his bro on this, regardless of his feelings about it. And something about the suggestion struck a chord with him; he wanted to see how it played out.

	After a few minutes, it was Vinnie who broke the silence, nodding in resolution before standing up. “Alright, Modo, let's try it.”

	Throttle blinked in surprise. “Whoa, Vin, you can't be serious! You wanna do this with him?”

	Vinnie nodded again. “Like he said, we agreed we wouldn't turn down anything this week, and this should be no exception.” He glanced over to Modo, a stern look on his face. “But on one condition.”

	The gray mouse shrugged. “Name it, bro.”

	“We all do it, together,” Vinnie retorted, shooting a penetrating look at Throttle. “If you want to treat your cock like a hot dog, we should do the same.”

	The brown mouse balked at that. “You... you're serious about this, aren't you? You two are really gonna fry your dicks in there to get off?! This... this is insane! This really is insane!”

	“That's not what your dick is telling us, bro,” Modo snarked, pointing at Throttle's crotch. Indeed, as shocked as the leader of the Biker Mice was at the idea, he was also apparently incredibly turned on by it, his cock hard and throbbing as his hand pumped over it furiously, precum spewing like a fountain from its tip. Looking down at himself, Throttle blushed and sunk his head down, dumbly, unable to explain away his behavior. Sighing in exasperation, he got up himself, shaking his head in defeat. “Fine, let's get this over with. I just hope Rimfire's little project works as well as he kept telling us it does...”




	It was quickly agreed how they would go about this kink; all three of them would work themselves into full hardness, then dress their cocks with whatever they wished as far as condiments and toppings went, before shoving them into the heart of the campfire for a full couple of minutes, to make sure they were thoroughly roasted. Once done, they would fuck and suck and eat on each other like normal. Getting hard was the easy part for them, as they were so horny that the slightest touch got their members stiff. The dressing was surprisingly fun and erotic for them, each one coming up with a unique condiment combination for themselves; Vinnie, the most nervous of the trio, attempted to just get away with laying a couple slices of cheese on his hardon and calling it good, but his bros, not ones to be denied, pushed him to do something more extreme. At their prompting, he finally settled on a combination of mustard, ketchup and cheese, smeared on and in his dick, the spiciness of the mustard making the skin of his member and the inside of his urethra tingle as it was applied. Throttle, being more adventurous, added onions and relish to the mix, stuffing his urethra full with the condiments before laying a thick layer of it around his cock, sealed in with slices of cheese. Modo, not wanting to be outdone, loaded his cock for bear, stuffing his urethra as full as he could get with mustard, ketchup, cheese, relish, onions, coleslaw, and mayonnaise, before smothering the outside with the same, wrapping the whole thing in layers of cheese and coleslaw. As a finishing touch, Modo took out a ball of twine and cut lengths of it for each of them, tying the lengths painfully tight around the glans and the base of each of their penises. “Locks in the flavor,” he said with a wink.

	Once finished, they gathered round the campfire, holding each other by the shoulders to keep each other from chickening out or running from the pain they'd inevitably endure. They looked at each other with various amounts of anticipation, fear, and horniness, but none of them backed out. “Okay, on the count of three, then we hold out for as long as possible, at least 2 minutes, okay?”

	The other two nodded, biting their lips. They knew it was now or never, and deep down, they wanted this. Steeling themselves, their dicks remaining firm from both their increased horniness and the ties cutting the circulation from them, they waited for the countdown.

	“3...”

	“2...”

	Their bodies tensed, their grips tightening on each other as they took one final breath...

	“1!”

	They thrust their hips forward, plunging their cocks into the heart of the flames before them. The sensation was immediate, and intense: sudden heat, hotter than any of them had felt before, engulfed their members, warming them to uncomfortable levels. They gasped as they felt the cheese starting to melt, driving the burning in their crotches to even greater heights. Vinnie gritted his teeth, trying desperately to stay in control of himself, to fight the excruciating pain he felt from the fire, while Throttle shrieked a little in agony as he felt his glans starting to cook and sizzle. Modo, however, could only loll his head back, mouth agape in a silent moan as his penis roasted.