\n\t\t\t\t\temikochanBurping as she leans back on her chair and pats her rounded belly, Feligris hardly even glances at the African painted dogs who mill around her in military fatigues as they take away the empty plates which fill the table in front of the nude feline… her tail flicking above the rough and dusty wooden floor. As soon as the table is cleared the canines turn their attention to feline, prodding and pinching her boldly all over while she simply hisses occasionally in protest when-ever an especially delicate spot such as her breast or crotch is groped, but the canines pay little heed to her.
Eventually a particularly rough looking male painted dog forces Feligris to stand up by grabbing her shoulder to yank her up, the scar-covered and slightly limping canine jabbing Feligris' belly immediately afterwards hard enough to make the feline flinch as the canines begin to corral her out of the small brick jail cell. ”We've fed you long enough, spy, time for you to feed us! Since you chose to be slow-cooked as our dinner instead of being tortured to death for information.”, the male painted dog growls while the whole group continues to shove Feligris along the dank concrete corridor towards another door, the feline stumbling along as she desperately tries to cover both her bouncing heavy breasts and her achingly full belly with her arms.
The sight of the glass cylinder ovens in the next room, although all of them are currently empty and unheated, causes Feligris to lose her composure for a moment and she briefly struggles against her captors before they wrestle her to the ground onto her knees – leaving her gasping and clutching her belly when others bring over the two-piece top of the oven to start fitting it around the feline's neck. ”Hisss – I hope you all get indigestion! What's going to happen anyhow?”, Feligris exhales in an exasperated manner once she calms down a tad, still squirming while her arms are being tied behind her back with a leather strip. The male canine simply scoffs at the feline first, again lifting her onto her paws with the help of few others. ”What do you think? We'll lift you in there, turn it on, and let all this cat meat cook to perfection over the next twenty-four hours, you'll probably be alive for the first half of it.”, he explains casually and gives Feligris' thighs a few firm slaps to underline his point, before fishing a pop-up meat thermometer from his pockets to sink it deeply into the base of one of the feline's breasts - the resulting screeches drawing pleased gazes from everyone. Meanwhile the others pull down ropes hanging from the ceiling to attach them to the top lid, and the kicking tail-swishing feline is raised until she's entirely hanging from her long neck – her struggles immediately diminishing as she fights to draw breath.
With Feligris suspended in the air the canines work rapidly and habitually, using the a roof rail setup to slide the towards the one open oven while raising her even higher – the leading male and one other following to restrain the feline's flailing legs so that they can be guided into the glass cylinder into which her body is slowly lowered. Along the way the scarred male takes special pleasure in squeezing Feligris' hefty bosom before stuffing it into the cylinder with rest of her body… the breasts pressing hard against the glass and moulding themselves to its contours. The ropes are quickly removed and the top lid fastened in place while the feline swings languidly from her neck, still breathing and gulping audibly however as her long tail bunches up at the bottom of the oven. Her tall ears flutter and cant forward when she tries to look down at the male painted dog when he sets the parameters of the oven from the front and turns it on, the immediate rush of heat making the feline's body flex reflexively. ”Ngyaah! W-wait, I wanna be tortured instead!”, she whines and grits her teeth when the initial heat starts to surround her – her food-bloated stomach cramping to add to her discomfort whereas the canine simply utters a hoarse amused growl and motions everyone towards the door. ”Too late! Enjoy the heat, sometime tomorrow we'll cut off that pretty head from your nicely done body and have a feast~”
After nearly all of the canines have marched off to their other duties, one is left behind to maintain watch of the slowly cooking feline, to feed her ice cubes and generally observe her increasingly delirious state as hours start to go past and her body gradually heats to more and more unbearable levels – the guard telling her how her already excuriatingly heated breasts and her full stomach will be special dishes tomorrow...