"sukie guro yuri 1" By robblu (https://pastebin.com/u/robblu) URL: https://pastebin.com/CuhNrMS3 Created on: Saturday 22nd of August 2015 09:52:42 PM CDT Retrieved on: Saturday 31 of October 2020 03:44:03 AM UTC An Oven Adventure by: Sukie Never let it be said that I welch on a bet. I thought in a very self-satisfied manner as I lounged on the cool kitchen counter. It was more than slightly silly, just a tipsy bet on a holiday race. We were all drinking and fooling around when Samantha came up with the idea that three of us should run a 5K and the loser would have to do whatever the winner wanted. Turns out that after a few glasses of wine, my stamina goes away...and Samantha said she wanted me to pretend to be a turkey today. Now, I’m not a fool. I mean I’ve lasted six years since I came of harvestable age, so clearly I don’t take stupid risks. If Samantha and I hadn’t have been dating for months and if I didn’t trust Chris and Jessie totally then there’s no way I’d be lounging on this counter, nude, shaven, and with my hair done up in a “roasting bun”. Having said that, there’s something slightly exciting about pretending that when they come in here they’re going to prep and roast me for real. My stomach is completely tied in knots as they wander into the kitchen completely unaware that I’m here and ready to pay up on my bet. They stare for a moment, before Sammie strides over confidently with a small grin and kisses me passionately pushing me down onto my back on the counter. The next thing I know, Sammie is fiddling with the oversized oven while Chris and Jessie’s fingers, hands, and tongues are leisurely exploring my quivering body. *THUNK* I stare for a moment at the huge roasting pan that Sammie has just put on the counter right next to my head. My voice quivers slightly when I finally find it, “When?...I mean, um, you have a girl roasting pan?” She gives me a huge grin, “Oh, I’ve had it for ages....” She starts wiping the dust out of it as, Chris and Jesse both find my, now, painfully hard nipples and the delicious feel of their tongues sliding over my sensitive skin, chases away any further questions I might have asked. My protests came out only as moans as my arms were gently, but determinedly, pulled above my head. The roasting twine felt rough against my skin as my wrists were bound together. I watched in amazement as Chris and Jesse started digging around in Sam’s kitchen and came up with the cutest little “drum stick” mittens. They were just fabric mittens that tied around my hands and gave the impression that my bound hands were actually bare bones like the ones you see in ancient pictures of roast turkeys! “But you’re not really going to roast me so why are you putting me in the pan?” , I protested as they picked me up and put me into the large black pan. The twine binding my wrists was looped through the hook and my legs were quickly maneuvered into the straps for them. I was utterly helpless, my legs were spread and locked into the pan while my arms were similarly trapped above my head. My heart was racing as my traitorous body was making its excitement clear as I tried to clear my head, “Ok, ummm, don’t you think that I’ve satisfied the bet?”, I asked trying to keep my tone completely casual. “Oh, sweetie, but you’re clearly enjoying this, aren’t you?”, Sammie replied with a grin as her finger traced up my fluttering tummy. “Well, errrrr...., yes, but...”, my eyes glance over to the temperature readout on the oven and noted that it’s only at 100 and was no longer going up, “I...I...guess if you only keep it there...” “Then, it’ll be just like that vacation to the beach we took last summer. Remember when you laid out on the beach all day, it was like over 105 that day!”, she finished for me. “Besides, we’ll take you out in like 10 minutes...for basting of course!” She said with a grin as she held up a delicate basting brush. *KA-THUNK*, The oven door’s opening noise sounded VERY loud in my ears as Chris and Jesse lowered the pan onto the shelf. The initial blast of heat was actually pretty pleasant, like walking outside on a warm summer day. I bit my lower lip to keep from moaning as they slid me into the warm oven and promptly closed the door behind me. They’d slid me in head first so I could see out the window and they were all giggling and walking around doing kitchen tasks. I couldn’t quite make out the conversation as I tried to get my breathing into the same neighborhood as controlled. I’ll fully admit it. I’ve had a THING about oven roasts for years. Right when I came of harvestable age, my bestie and I went to a coming-of-age party. And who can resist those games of chance? I mean, invincible teenagers, right? Anywho, my bestie...became a lesson in the lack of invincibility and did so in an oven. But, watching her helpless squirming in the pan after she’d be gutted and stuffed was...stimulating. Then, after she finished cooking she was utterly delectable, and let’s just say she stayed in my dreams ever since. My reverie was broken by the sound of the door opening. I was almost disappointed that my time in the oven was nearing an end. Sammie reached in and pulled the shelf that I was on out slightly. I shivered as the outside air felt icy on my sweat kissed skin. Sammie leaned over and kissed me, her tongue pushing insistently into my mouth as she does when she’s feeling in charge. I let out a little gasp into her mouth as I kissed her back. I could feel the bristles of the basting brush sliding over my skin depositing a cool feeling liquid. Were they buttering me? “Whatcha’ doing? Aren’t you letting me out now?”, I asked again failing to will my tone to be totally casual. “Well, we thought we’d just put you in for a bit longer, love. We can see how much you’re enjoying this...” Sammie’s fingers gently stroked my damp slit as she made her point. My world utterly lost all focus as the brush replaced her fingers and began stroking the most sensitive of spots. Sammie winked at me as she started to slide me back in, “Don’t worry, love, we’re just going to up the temperature a teensy bit and if you really want out next time, we’ll stop...” The sound of the door closing pushed me over the edge. My eyes bugged out slightly and a loud moan echoed in the confines of the oven. My muscles tensed and I could feel my hips moving as much as they could as I heard the heating element of the oven kick on. As the orgasm slowly faded, I could feel the sweat begin to collect on my skin. The whole oven had a slight reddish glow from the heating element just a few feet above my head. I could barely make out activity through the oven window. It looked like they were making up a glaze of some sort, my slightly heat addled mind found this to be a bit of a worrying development but it came with the thought that soon they’d be brushing cooling liquid over my poor skin. I don’t know how long I futilely struggled against the twine holding my wrists together or the straps holding my legs against the, now, fairly warm roasting pan. After what seemed like an eternity, the door finally opened again. I blinked and started at the sensation of the cool air pouring over my sweat soaked form. However, instead of being pulled out, a large basting brush came in and began to distribute a heavy glaze over my now slightly burned skin. The scent of honey quickly filled my nostrils as a thick glaze was slowly and throughly applied to me. You might think that the thick bristles of the brush would have irritated my already slightly burned skin, but really, it felt divine. The coolish feeling, thick and sweet smelling glaze brought a measure of relief to me. The care and thoroughness of the basting added a sensual note, like when a lover is carefully brushing every inch of your skin. As the brush teased its way slowly up my inner thighs, I started to moan and whimper in frustration. I could feel myself bucking wildly and completely losing track of everything as my traitorous body reacted to the bristles brushing against ME... When the world came back into focus, I heard a bit of giggling and watched as Jesse started licking the end of the brush, the look on her face absolutely rapt as she licked up the mix of glaze and my natural flavors. Her tongue slowly tracing along the bristles as she gazed at my helpless form. A wide smile spread as she giggled and said, “Mmmmmm, tasty! You’re clearly having too much fun in there...we’ll take you out in a few more minutes” as she closed the oven door. There was a brief exchange that I couldn’t quite catch but I watched, heard and felt the heating elements click on again. The glaze brought some measure of relief to me as I lay in my glowing red prison. Already it felt a bit hotter than the hottest day I’d ever experienced, and the roasting pan had come up to the temperature in the oven. As I squirmed taking advantage of what little freedom of movement I did have, I noticed that my skin was beginning to feel funny. It was feeling tighter than normal...or maybe my muscles were beginning to feel firmer than normal? I could vaguely hear some discussion going on in the kitchen as my friends were preparing to let me out. It sounded like the food processor was going and I could see the chopping of onions, celery, and other vegetables. Were they making up a stuffing? I could also see OTHER people arriving in the kitchen, instead of my three friends it looked like there were now six or seven people there! And I thought I could hear them sharpening knives...that sound chilled me to my very core. I began to mentally picture my body laid out on the dining table. Steam rising from my partially open mouth and from my delicate filet as I lay motionless on the serving platter. My friends gathered around the table, all discussing which cuts they want to harvest dig into first. Maybe Chris sinking a fork into one of my now very shrunken breasts commenting on how he loved the way that they’d filled out my dresses but now they’re going to be filling his plate as he slices them from me. Sammie digging into my body consuming me as she thought of all the times that she’d pleasured me with her delightful tongue but now I was fulfilling my destiny to pleasure her tastebuds one last time... My thoughts were rudely interrupted as I could hear the oven door opening. As though in a dream four hands covered with oven mitts reached into the oven and began to pull me out. The world moved rapidly as I was pulled out from my warm cocoon and out into the FREEZING kitchen. The pan was placed on the counter and I could see a lot of people gazing at down me as I struggled slightly in the twine. My eyes opened wide as I started to realize exactly how many people were looking at me and the expression on their face wasn’t along the ‘look at the sexy woman pretending to be a roast’ lines but rather ‘hey, dinner is progressing nicely’. Sammie stood there grinning with a huge apple in her hand, I opened my mouth to protest and Sammie quickly shoved the fruit in. My jaw gave a little click as it was forced almost obscenely wide and I started panicking slightly. Then I noticed that everyone had out their phones and they were taking picture after picture of my struggling form. Hands came down and began to knead my slightly burned breasts. “Oh, she’s beginning to firm up nicely. The glaze tastes divine. How EVER did you convince her to volunteer? When will she be ready?” Conversation swirled around me as I lay there helpless and slightly dazed. I wanted desperately to tell them that this was all an elaborate bet and a kinky sex game and that I WASN’T volunteering. I was getting goosebumps barely visible through the coating of glaze as I shivered from the freezing air in the kitchen. I could barely see the temperature readout on the oven as Jessie upped it to 140 and I let out a deep moan as Chris penetrated me with a thermometer. It was utterly humiliating, trussed up in a roasting pan with a thermometer sticking out of my now embarrassingly swollen and wet labial lips. Sammie winked at me and mouthed, “You’re doing great, we’ll let you out again in 15 minutes” as she motioned to people to slide me back into my glowing red and warm home. The oven felt warmer but somehow comfortingly so, almost like it was beginning to feel right. I couldn’t see the readout on the thermometer, but I knew that with THAT sticking out of me, my future looked QUITE table-bound. My jaw strained to try and close and finish biting through the fruit when I saw Jesse holding her laptop outside of the oven window. There was a picture of a delectable looking roast tied up in a roasting pan. The roast was covered in a slightly yellow tinged glaze and was only slightly reddened, as though she’d just been in the oven for a little while. A bright red apple was in her mouth, a look of utter contentment on her face as though she were fulfilling some vague destiny...then I looked up at her face and realized...it was ME. A blossom of understanding washed over me, my friends could see my body’s reaction but couldn’t seem to grasp that some part of me still wasn’t ready...though seeing how I looked, I had to admit, it did look very natural. Gradually, I started to look at my body through different eyes. The sweat that was still coming out of my skin was just liquid weight leaving the roast. The firming I could feel under my skin was just...meat beginning to cook. My slowly shrinking breasts were just the natural process of fat being converted to a natural baste getting ready to be released. The burning desire I could feel deep in my darkest recesses was the unconscious acceptance of my role in the world. My body KNEW that it was here just to be roasted and consumed by my friends. My conscious mind was just taking a bit longer to accept that everything that I had been and done up to this point was preparation for this day. I let out a little moan as I realized that my future potential had just narrowed down into one role...dinner. My friends had seen my expression and they’d just done the natural thing. Once they realized that I, somehow, WANTED to roast for them, they organized a party. They started to invite their friends over so that I wouldn’t go to waste. I could barely hear the discussion outside of the oven and it chilled me, “I think she’d WANT the opportunity to make it to the table still alive. You saw how turned on she was, she’s a natural roaster. Look, if we gut her soon and stuff her then keep her at least partially hydrated and not turn the temperature up too high, maybe she’ll make it. We owe her to at least try.” So that was it, the decision had been made...my figurative and literal goose was cooked. I looked up at the unrelenting heating element for a while and pondered what it would be like to make it to the table alive and thought about feeling the knives slowly harvest my...flesh. *THUNK* My contemplation of my future was broken momentarily as the oven door opened quickly. The shelf was half pulled out and all I could see was an aluminum foil tent which was quickly slipped over my head totally obstructing my vision of everything. Darkness fell and I listened as they slid me back inside and shut the oven door again. I have no idea how long I laid there listening to the heating element click on and off. The temperature was just slowly increasing and I could still hear the sounds of busy preparation in the kitchen. The mixers were running nonstop (presumably finishing up MY stuffing). I could hear the knives being sharpened and the happy clinks of wine glasses as the people celebrated another miss on the old meat lottery. I must have passed out for a while as, when I awoke with a start I knew I was no longer in the oven. I actually must have been moved out of the roasting pan because I could feel that the straps were missing and my poor abused skin was covered with goose pimples from the relative chill of the air. Ah ha, maybe they reconsidered and aren’t really going to roast me I thought triumphantly... I then felt the oddest sensation deep in my core followed by what sounded like sloshing sounds. It sounded like...well, somewhat familiar but hard to place. A bit wet and fleshy...almost like the sounds when you’re gutting a roast...OH NO! I was hearing my own intestines sloshing into the scraps bucket. I tried to struggle and found that I was being held down and I could FEEL hands moving around inside of me and pulling out my organs! I let out a quiet moan around the apple and was rewarded with sounds of reassurance right by my ear. “That’s a good little roaster, you’re almost done. You look marvelous, love...your breasts will be divine and we’re just going to stuff you and then it’s just another little while in the oven and you’ll be done...” Suddenly, the feeling of profound emptiness and cold washed over me. This was replaced with the sensation of warm water being run through my now empty abdominal cavity and washing me out. Then, I felt cool stuffing slowly filling me up, this seemed to take an eternity until it was replaced by very light pinpricks which traveled up from my mound all the way to just below my breasts. I guess although most of the nerves were cooked dead some remained so I could feel them sewing me closed. I could hear the cameras taking pictures of me. My arms and legs felt really strange, as though they were nearly completely asleep. They were completely unresponsive to any attempts to move them although I could vaguely feel where they were. My arms were still above my head and my legs were totally spread wide. After the cameras stopped, I could feel SOMETHING sliding into ME. It was smooth and not too bumpy, kind of like...that zucchini I’d bought last week! I realized that they were stuffing my fillet to keep everything inside of me. I moaned loudly as I could very much FEEL the pinpricks as they sewed my quim closed to keep the squash inside. This indignity was followed by being flipped over on my tummy and a SHARP meat thermometer being pushed into my...rump. I could barely hear Sammie talking, “Ok, let’s get her back in the roasting pan and then it’ll be two more hours judging by this reading.” There was motion which I couldn’t really follow then the sensation of being slid slowly back into the warm embrace of the oven. She whispered to me, “Don’t worry, love, you’re almost done.” *THUNK* as the oven door snapped shut and the world began to get REALLY hot. When one is gutted and bound up on their hands and knees in an oven roasting, it tends to focus the mind. I knew what would come next. I could smell myself beginning to cook up fully, and I had to admit, I’d have one regret. I smelled REALLY delicious. I wondered if I’d taste better than my bestie did all those years ago. The oven was feeling really, really hot now and I was beginning to feel a bit sleepy... Consciousness snapped back painfully as I dreamily felt my body being moved around. The foil tent over my head was crinkling too much to make out any words, but it was clear that there was a buzz of conversation surrounding me. Movement ceased and I could feel tiny adjustments being made to the positions of my arms and legs, though really they wouldn’t respond to ANY of my attempts to move them. As though in a dream, I could feel the foil hood being lifted and my eyes weakly fluttered open to the harsh light. My...roast was laid out sumptuously on a serving platter. My head was propped up on something and I could see my, now, very brown and steaming flesh oozing juices onto the platter. The stitches holding the squash in my fillet had been popped along with those holding my tummy together. The offending squash was laying slightly outside of my totally unfeeling quim and I could see warm stuffing peeking out from my abdomen. My breasts looked awfully strange, all of their youthful perkiness cooked away. Delicious smelling liquid was slowing flowing from the fork holes some helpful cook had poked in them. People were all around me giving my...no their, meat an appraising glance. I could see that, already, my identity as a person was gone and replaced. I was, now, just another meal to be promptly consumed and forgotten. I then saw Sammie walking over to me with a cleaver in her hand. She was grinning at me with a special gleam in her eyes. She leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I’m going to miss you, but...I knew you wanted this more than anything.” She gave me a gentle kiss on my cheek before bringing the cleaver down forcefully through my neck...