View Full Version : Boil and Bubble

12-24-2009, 05:16 AM
Here's another tasty tale I just concocted! Enjoy!:

Lucy simply couldn’t believe how bad her luck had become these last few months. The beautiful British babe was simply dumbfounded, as she lay upon a four poster bed, chained by the neck to the wall. She was basically unable to move from the spot without strangling herself. You would think, she thought to herself, that a pretty lass like me with, she continued as she fondled her large, round breasts with her untethered hands, for what could very well be the last time, an equally pretty pair of melons would be able to catch a decent break! As these thoughts permated through her brain, she thought back to how she ended up this way…

First, some asshole had made off with her credit card and ran $16,000 on it. Then a month afterward, while she’d been on a photo shoot, the building in which she’d lived in for five years was burnt to the ground. When the Agency called her up—while she’d been shacking up with a friend—telling her of a men’s magazine in the U.S. that would be willing to pay her $15,000 for a simple shoot in the Rockies, she jumped at the chance to set things right as rain.

But, it seems her luck followed her to the Americas. When she stopped at a small Colorado town’s only gas station-- to ask for directions to the mountain lodge where the shoot would take place—some rat bastard made off with her rental car. For God’s Sake, what the Bleedin’ Hell! she fumed, what have I done lately to deserve this shit!!!
She felt like tearing the hair out of her head. But things got a little better when a handsome stranger offered a ride to his place to use his phone. She said to herself, as she contemplated sleeping with the attractive stranger as a way of “thanking” him, at last, things are starting to go my way!

That thought was still lodged in her pretty, dark haired little head when she entered the stranger’s home. Almost immediately after he’d open the door, the lushly fleshed little slut had her arms wrapped around him, her mouth eagerly seeking his out. Their tongues battled it out as they kissed, the stranger’s hands roughly caressing Lucy’s round bottom, moving up along her hips to finally wrap his fingers around her yielding still clothed breast flesh.
Lucy mewed in delight as her areloae swelled and her nipples hardened as her libido went through the roof. Her yellow chambray blouse didn’t stand a chance against the stranger’s eager hands as he tore it off her torso and roughly yanked at her bra, destroying the clasps and freeing her British boobage. His hands quickly found their places on Lucy’s teats, pulling and pushing them into and from her chest, kneading them as they were bread dough. The stranger took in the sights of Lucy’s eyes rolling back in head in pleasure as he mauled her melons, of her areolae puffing up and nipples hardening in arousal. They were practically begging to be suckled….and more.

He licked his lips saliaciously before diving into her cleavage, growling as his lips snared a scrumptious nipple. He slurped hungrily upon the summit of the sweet suck-em before he caught a turgid, tender breast bud with his front teeth and pulled; Lucy moaned in pleasure as he pulled his from her chest, stretching her teat to its full length, before releasing the mammary with a slurp. He watched hungrily as the mound bounced into its original shape before he unleashed the same torture upon its sister tit.

As he did so, the stranger could not recall the last time he had such a tasty tart in his clutches. Her flesh, so far, had a delectable flavor, one that, at once, was familiar yet unique: a hint of ham here, a touch of saltiness there. His mouth watered at the thoughts of how the rest of her would taste; he simply could not wait to get between her lush, firm thighs to sample the deliciousness that called itself her sexual essence. Pre cum oozed from the tip of his still clothed, turgid length as he contemplated the sweet flavor of her love honey.

As he hungrily suckled and squeezed the young centerfold’s bountiful bosoms, the sweet, tangy scent of her arousal hit his nostrils. During the treatment he gave her tits, Lucy had managed to have a small, but satisfactory orgasm. He, as usual, had been lost in his own little world as he aquianted himself with Lucy’s body; speaking of which, he now had the girl against the wall—to keep her from falling—running his tongue up and down her belly, slurping up the sweat that covered her skin, giving her knockers a rest after nearly 15 minutes of breast play, the hard buds at their summits sore from the suckling. A droplet of liquid oozed unseen from one nipple; it was creamy white in color. It stood as proof of the expert breast handling, which had coaxed a wee bit of lactation from the far from pregnant model.

Her firm ass was now getting part of the treatment her tits had received, as the stranger massaged the warm flesh incased in a pair of blue denim. Again with a growl, he spun the girl around—smooshing her breasts deliciously against the wall—and yanked on both the material of her pants and the black satin of her g-string briefs. Drooling at the sight of Lucy’s bare ass, he literally began to kiss the young woman’s round behind, sucking and licking at the ripe flesh before scraping his teeth against her glutes, causing yet another climax for the Brit.

The stranger could not wait any longer; Lucy spun again, this time so that her lover could bury his face in her clean shaven crotch, snarling as he licked and sucked at the plump lips of her labia. His thumbs pulled them apart, revealing the petal soft folds of her snatch, each of said petals slathered in creamy, tangy, honey flavored girl cum; her plump little clitoris stood turgid like a solider standing to attention as the stranger’s teeth nibbled at the small button of horny woman meat.

The busty Brit graciously rewarded him with an abundant burst of cunt honey.The stranger lifted the libidinous lass in his arms, and carried her upstairs to his bedroom, one of his hands roaming to the woman’s plump ass flesh, kneading one cheek and then the other to the girl’s content. He stopped only once, when the British woman again offered her tit flesh to his hungry mouth. He did his best to smirk around the mouthful of lactating breast, his lips coaxing out the sweet, warm, creamy liquid being produced in the perky girl globes, the milk flowing out of them like dimunitive rivers. His mouth left Lucy’s mounds just as he arrived at his destination with an audible pop; her milk no longer came out in droplets, but dribbled copiously from the sucked nipples now.

Lucy buoyant body bounced as she was tossed onto the four poster bed in the middle of the room; her half lidded, lust filled eyes raked their sight upon the undressing stranger, licking her lips at the size of his thick, long, eager length. The tip of the stranger’s hard cock was moist with cum he struggled to contain as he explored Lucy’s luscious body. It twitched at the sight of the centerfold on the bed lying on her back, with her legs spread as wide as humanly possible, her pink wet love canal beckoning it to bury itself in her hot, wet, aromatic love hole.

Lucy’s host spared no time in laying his body atop hers, and, in one hard, quick, vicious thrust, buried himself entirely within the depths of the Brit’s dripping fuck tunnel. It was all he could do to keep himself from spilling his hot seed at that very moment, as Lucy’s vaginal muscles went to work milking his dick in the same fashion he had employed on her sore suck-ems. The friction, the feel of his cock pumping in and out the Brit’s hot pink cunnie, flesh of penis rubbing deliciously against flesh of moist cunt, was a pleasure that could only be vocalized in loud, animalistic grunts, from both the stranger and his gushing guest.

Orgasm after orgasm ultimately took its toll on poor Lucy, the woman’s mind hurled pell nell into unconsciousness with the last pussy melting climax. It was several hours later when the young woman finally awoke in her current condition, due to an uncomfortableness in her neck caused by the manacle placed around it. As she looked around the room for her lover-turn-kidnapper, she noticed several empty plastic bags and packages littered all around the place, In the middle of the mess of plastic was a white cutting board, stained green, orange and red. What the bloody…Lucy thought to herself as she continued to take in her surroundings, until something caught her eyes, and put a look of sheer terror into them.

There, upon the nightstand, was an invoice, with the Agency’s letterhead adorned at the top of it, which read:

Woman (Lucy); 22 years of age; British; 34F: $2,303,475.34
Cooking suggestions: Boiling, girl has perfect meat to fat ratio for use in soups/stew.

It was all she could do to keep herself from screaming when she saw the carving knife strewn atop the hideous piece of paper. The Agency she had trusted to help turn her life around, as she now tearfully put this morbid puzzle together, that other girls had trusted, was nothing but a front for white slavery. She began to sob as she furthered realized that sex—forced or not—was not even one of the recommended uses for the Agency’s victims.
Lucy was now full out bawling at the thought that this handsome stranger that was supposed to have been her knight in shining armor was going to literally treat her like a piece of meat, a piece of meat that would be nothing more than—if he followed the cooking suggestions—soup stock to flavor a wealth of broth, and that the flesh that would provide the robust flavor of said broth would be carved, and happily eaten.

As her head thrashed around in sorrow, her eyes absorbed an even more terrible sight than the horrid invoice and knife. When the stranger brought her up into his bedroom to ravish her, she had barely noticed the wide open door of his bathroom—resplendent with both a shower stall and a small hot tub. She’d had brief thoughts of what it would be like to fuck in the small tub, the water bubbling around and about her body. Now, especially upon staring horrified at what was now happening, she knew that same hot tub was obiviously up here for more nefarious reasons; the stranger, still nude, was emptying bowls of chopped vegetables into the bubbling tub. She could see where the smears of colors on the cutting board had come from, as pieces of tomato, celery, carrot, and potato made their presences known as the water’s movements momentarily pushed them up to the surface.

Lucy’s breath hitched as their eyes finally met again, her blubbering increasing as he smiled wolfishly at her. He took a smaller bowl that sat next to the sink, one filled with a mixture of salt and spices, and emptied it into the tub. He bent down to pull a peeled potato and a carrot out of a bowl lying next to the tub and made his way to the main course. Despite being tethered to wall behind her, Lucy began to struggle frantically as he approached her. Her sobbing went up in volume as his hands began to roam her body again, but unlike before, none of his stroking now was remotely sexual. It was if he was feeling around her limbs, her belly, her teats, and judging their meat content. He pulled upon a drawer on the nightstand and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

The stranger had to press his knee against Lucy’s belly to limit her struggling as he pulled her hands behind her back and shackled them together with one pair of cuffs, and then dodged and ducked the young woman’s kicking legs until they were prisoners of the second pair of restraints. Though she’d contemplated anal sex once or twice, Lucy was not too fond of the carrot forced up her rectum; she liked the potato shoved into her quim even less.
He then reached around her neck and removed the chain from the manacle around it, lifting the squealing bimbo from the bed and carrying her to the bathroom. Not wanting to become anyone’s main course, Lucy begged and pleaded with all her might to be spared, knowing in the back of her mind it was no use; if she were in the stranger’s shoes, she wouldn’t just toss a couple million bucks out the window either.

And, at last, into the tub—into her doom—Lucy went. She was positioned with her neck restraint in front of a small chain connected to the inside of the hot tub, two inches beneath the churning water’s surface. The stranger reached into the water, and fastened the chain to the sobbing woman’s neck shackle; as a result her chin was resting on the water’s surface, the rest of her body partially submerged in the soon-to-be-soup. Tears leaked out of her eyes as she saw chunks of veggies bouncing against her plump pontoons, her thoughts thrust into a morbid direction—her breasts actually looked kind of appetizing peeking out from the water, a carrot slice balanced precariously on one sumptuous suck-em summit.

Before she could commence with another bout of begging and bawling, and apple was shoved in her mouth. He moved to a dial on the wall directly behind the tub, and fiddled with it until he set the temperature said tub would ultimately reach. Her eyes widened as the stranger pulled what looked a lid for an enormous pot. It’s a lid for a pot alright, Lucy realized tearfully, for the pot I’m boiling in right fucking now!! At one end of the lid was a half circle cut out of it; an opening that would keep her head above water, the edge of it pressing against her throat as it was placed atop a groove in the tub.

She looked at her captor balefully one last time as he smiled at her, his teeth pearly white, before fiddling with a timer on the shelf beneath the medicine cabinet, setting it for three hours, and walked out of the room, shutting the door.

Lucy was still struggling when the water began to boil twelve minutes later, the churning water inadvertently mixing her natural juices into the simmering broth, the essences of veggie and unwilling long-pig melding together, becoming one. She could only imagine what color her pink nipples and clitoris—exposed due to the girth of the potato shoved in her twat—were now—Red perhaps, she thought, on their way to becoming brown…when I’m done. The lid was serving its purposes: whatever was not simmering under the water’s surface, was being steamed to mouthwatering perfection, and poor Lucy’s head was for the most part, being preserved, for a purpose the cooking woman didn’t even want to begin to dwell on.

Before her spirit departed the world of the living ten minutes after that, she got a good, long whiff of the soup she was becoming, the aromas of spices, of chunky vegetables, of sweet, fatty pork finding their way to her nostrils. Damn….I’m going to taste good was the final thought that drifted into the dying woman’s head as she officially became tender, boiling meat, her hazel eyes rolling back in her head as she did so. Beneath the lid, as Lucy had surmised in her head, her cream colored skin did indeed become pinker, and ultimately hit a bright, boiled lobster red hue, her nipples and clit teetering on the border of red and mahogany.

A sharp DING! echoed in the spacious bathroom, signaling that it was time for Lucy to take center stage, only in a way she never would have fathomed, or enjoyed, or willingly wanted…

The stranger was dressed in nothing more than a pair of boxers, his hair—once ruffled from the hours of sex he had partaken in before—as he approached the long table he had set alongside his bed; fresh sheets adorned it now, the ones on it before—rich with the cunty aroma of the womanflesh he had purchased from the Agency—were in an air-locked plastic bag, being kept along with the clothes the Brit had worn, as a morbid souvenir. He took in the sight of Lucy’s beautiful body, licking his lips hungrily. In his eyes—though he had only known her for the span of seven hours—she had never looked so lovely.

Upon a long, deep, oval shaped platter, lay Lucy; she was on her back, her lush form partially submerged in a lagoon of the broth whose unique flavor she contributed to, vegetables floated next to her. Her skin was red, stretched tight against the soft pink meat within that had grown plump during her stay in the makeshift crock pot. Her breasts lay soft and plump upon her chest, nipples a dusky brownish red. He pulled out a sharpened, two prong fork, and thrust it into her left teat, above her areolae, and watched as a small stream of clear juice ran from the wound. He lifted the fork to his mouth, and sucked at the tip; so far, of all the girls he had feasted upon, Lucy had now taken top spot as one of the most delicious, and he had yet to eat a mouthful of her meat.

The same mahogany color had overtaken the pink of her clitoris, as well as the pussy lips that still gripped the potato; upon discovering that the potato had grown too soft to be removed in its entirety—both from the boiling water and the woman’s final orgasmic spasms—he merely pushed the portion of the veggie that hadn’t been nestled in her hot hole all the way in with a wooden spoon. As a lark, he began to thrust the implement in and out of Lucy’s womb, occasionally spinning the spoon around in her twat. By the time he was done, her swollen boiled labia were surrounding a wealth of mashed potatoes, her still turgid clit peeking out of the flavorful, cream-yellow fluff.

The stranger had teased himself long enough; the carving knife he had used to dice the vegetables in the soup now found itself at the base of Lucy’s plump boob. He began sawing off one of the most prized portions of the Brit’s busty, boiled body, separating the hunk of breast meat from the rest of the woman’s chest, and placed it in his bowl of soup, the tit sinking to the bottom, forcing the liquid to rise and cover most of it. Only the chunks of tomato and carrot and her still turgid nipple pierced the surface of the dirty brown colored broth.

Hungry for his first taste of the girl’s poached mammary, he thrust his fork into the moist flesh, pulling a juicy chunk away from the very center of the meat, and brought it to his mouth. The flavor of the section of breast flesh around her areolae was rich and fatty, her nipple was slightly different in texture and taste, but still delicious. His tongue played against the meat in his mouth, savouring the mix of flavors, the sweet soup it had been soaked in, before bring his molars down upon it, chewing it gently, enjoying every gush of juice each bite induced in the flesh. His fork dove back into the bowl again and again, enjoying the rich, flavorful boobie meat, sucking on the sweet flesh before chewing it into oblivion.

Upon devouring the entirety of Lucy’s luscious left breast, he lifted the bowl to his lips, and guzzled the broth it flavored; small streams of soup dripped from the sides as he sloppily slurped up every drop. As he wiped his mouth with his wrist, he eyed the British bimbo’s body, contemplating his next helping. Should I go for another plump, juicy titty he thought to himself, or, maybe as he licked his lips, I can get into some of that sweet, hammy good stuff she calls…heh heh…called her thigh…

He returned to the woman’s boiled carcass, and pressed the knife into a thickly fleshed thigh, where the lush muscle of that prized portion of her woman meat acquainted itself with the flesh of her ass and carved around it. With a lengthwise thrust from that gash, he was able to free the firm mass of Yorkshire ham from the bone; the meat incased within the reddened skin was pink-on-the-verge-of-white, the knife made short work of slicing it into thick, plump, juicy slabs.

A wicked idea crossed the stranger’s mind as he plopped one thick slab of girl ham into his bowl. Using the wooden spoon to dig out a heaping load of cunt juice flavored mashed potatoes from Lucy’s moist, red quim, he smeared it upon his slice of thigh copiously, and placed another slap atop it. With a smile, he decided he would not use utensils for this course; gripping the potato-on-longpig ham sandwich, he brought it to his mouth, and buried his jaws as far into the parody of a grinder as he could. Even though the slices of thigh looked like they could’ve come from an actual pig, the flavor of the meat begged to differ. It was unique, almost as if it were screaming I am Lucy meat! Hear me squelch…under your TEETH!! It was not as tender as the meat of her breast, but it was sumptuous, scrumptious, de-fucking-licious nonetheless. It was not long before the combined might of his hunger and powerful molars made short work of the oddball hoagie.

Happily, the stranger still found his hunger far from sated, even after all the flesh he had devoured, and that he still had room for “dessert.” This time, it was not the wooden spoon that dove into the potato-and-girl-spunk concoction between her thigh and de-meated femur, and this time, as he lifted his fork to his lips, there was a strip of meat-former labia alongside the clump of uniquely flavored mashed potato. Again, though like the breast and thigh meat he had earlier came from the same body, the flavor and texture was again different; it’s firmness was inbetween that of her breast and thigh, the flavor was, naturally, sweeter. Tossing the fork far from him after enjoying the mouthful of tater and pussy meat, he buried his face between her legs, hungrily slurping up mashed spuds and tearing away cuntflesh as he did feasted on the most tender, most choice cut of Lucy’s body, until her clitoris was all that was left. The final pinch of twat meat was nibbled away from the nearly stripped remains of her vagina.

A soft, white, silk sheet was placed upon her remains; once his stomach was settled, he’d prepare the rest of her for the fridge. He lay upon his bed and pulled out the catalog the Agency had sent him a few months ago, the very book where he had first “met” Lucy, the latest of his beautiful, and delicious, “dinner dates.” He thumbed through it, admiring the topless—and at times completely nude—pictures of the women within it, as he pulled a slice of Lucy-ham from under the sheet and began to snack on it. An image promptly caught his eye, a young woman with light brown hair, bright eyes, and a charming smile.

His eyes quickly sought out her best feature: a luscious pair of upturned, 36E breasts, the summits dominated by a puffy pink arealoe, and slightly darker pink nipples. Her name was Keeley. And like the girl under the white sheet next to his bed—with a missing left teat, half her right thigh cut into five slabs of ham, and devoid of a pussy—she was British. And she was still available for sale. As soon as he put the rest of Lucy into cold storage, and sent her head to his friend the taxidermist—so that it could join the heads of the five other women he’d eaten since he became one of the Agency’s most-prized customers—he’d put in his order for the boiled girl’s sister-by-nationality. Maybe he’d try baking this one as he looked at her picture in the catalog; her plump melons seemed to beg for it.
A contented smile filled the stranger’s face as he settled in for a quick nap as he chuckled to nobody in particular:

God Bless Britain, they sure got pretty girls o’er there…

It was interrupted for a moment or so, by a loud, aromatic belch…

Tasty too.

12-24-2009, 06:43 AM
mmmm this tasty british model wouldnt happen to be lucy pinder now would it? awesome story, hope to see a continuation.

12-25-2009, 04:35 AM
Yes, yes it would! As you can see, she was one hell of an inspiration!! Maybe I'll do something else in the same vein after the holidays! Till then, Bon Appetit!!

Lunix Shadow
12-27-2009, 09:16 PM
Awesome story, thanks!

05-23-2014, 03:00 PM
Bumping to reintroduce this story to those who liked it, and to get others to sample its deliciousness, lol!