Life favors the few in Elwood Mass­a­chus­etts, an upper crust com­mu­ni­ty num­ber­ing about thir­ty of the most pres­ti­gious homes in eas­tern Mass. 12 North Strand Street is the home of Ms. Susan Jef­ferey. The house it­self is a sprawl­ing Vic­tor­i­an com­pris­ed of four­teen rooms, two acres of land, gaze­bo, and three acres of man­i­cured lawns.

The house sits on the cor­ner of the court far enough to of­fer com­plete pri­va­cy from other homes in the neigh­bor­hood. It's a well wood­ed lot cov­er­ed by state­ly elm and maple trees. The back yard sec­tion (just off the upper deck) has a heat­ed swim­ming pool, Jacuz­zi soak tub and, in the grassy area, a large brick bar­be­cue (large enough to roast a small, thousand pound steer whole) sculp­tur­ed flower gardens line the shady brick walks lead­ing off to the wood­ed areas on the north side of the prop­erty.

Susan had taken her usual afternoon nap but just couldn't get to sleep. She finally sat straight up and, pushing the shoulder length blond hair out of her eyes, decided to give it up. About five thirty she went downstairs to fix some tea and brandy. Standing by her bedroom's full length mirror she slipped her nightgown over her five foot three inch petite frame. A little (well. almost half a year) over thirty-six, Susan was in good shape — a slender one hundred and twenty pound body, set off by her glowing blond hair, large expressive blue eyes, a shapely rear-end and round firm pouting breasts. Long, nicely tanned shapely legs completed the package.

Padding quietly down the plush carpet stairs. Susan turned the hall corner and switched on the kitchen light. Waiting a second for her eyes to adjust to the sudden glare she sat down at the polished oak kitchen table. What to do? In just about a week, Susan's Equinox Club would meet for their annual fall festival dinner.

The Equinox Club is a gourmet dining association founded over twenty years ago by Katherine Carson's (Elwood's leading society family) world traveled step-mother. The club's goal was to provide the ultimate dining experiences by not discriminating against cultural, political or environmental issues. Thus, many club meals over the years were prepared in a manner judged to be politically incorrect in society circles or contained foods socially or environmentally precluded, or outright protected by law. This year it was Susan's turn to host the dinner which would normally require seating at table over thirty women.

Susan jumped at the sound of the steam kettle's shrill whistle. Although the house was Victorian style, the builders had obviously prioritized the kitchen for both family socializing and more practical issues such as food storage, cooking and eating. It is a huge light, airy open room fully equipped to cook and serve (and clean-up afterwards) meals for a large number of people. The kitchen is outfitted with stainless steel professional appliances, a full walk-in freezer, professional six-burner gas range with attached triple sized oven and abundant counter space, plus two huge butcher block tables set just behind the cooking area.

Pouring the tea Susan indulged in one of her few vices (besides fine brandies) lighting a cigarette and inhaling deeply. She exhaled slowly — the cigarette relaxed her and helped her think. As a second generation Equinox member, she had many fond memories of bygone fall dinners — so many wonderful places and tastes stirred her memories. Exotic meals full of strange and mysterious foods, rich with flavor, seasonings and tastes unknown till that time.

There were even a time "special dinners" of human meat were used in China before the communist regime came to power. The stories were repeated to this day in hushed undertones about the wonderful experience of eating "long-pig", as they called human meat.

Raising the cigarette to her mouth again, Susan took another puff, remembering the elephant roasts, eagle egg soufflé and how she'd cried when they served the baby panda chops (three baby panda's cooked and carved alive on the spit) over ten years ago. Ten years ago ... a life time.

Since then her younger daughter (aged twenty-one) had grown up too fast. Clarise was an adventuresome child, ready to take on the world. Looking like a younger version of her mother she had flashing green eyes, blond hair a beautiful heart shaped mouth.

Wrapped up in Clarise's troubled marriage, Susan's own failed marriage was just a dim pain long filed away as no ones fault. Men! What are they good for anyway? Always wrapped in themselves, they seldom made life easier.

Angrily stubbing out her cigarette Susan poured a second cup of tea (that would be sure to keep her awake) and fantasized about a world without men in control. Snapping back to the problem at hand Susan's thoughts drifted back to the upcoming dinner. What to serve? She was sure panda's would not be available at the local meat market. Susan was aware the main course would have to be meat of some kind....

Slowly ... a wildly exciting idea began to form. Initially she discounted the thoughts as crazy. It couldn't be done now ... here ... but why not, if done carefully — Long-pig!

With a master degree in criminal law and an MBA in civil law Susan's technical mind began toying with the idea of cooking a whole male. As an accomplished gourmet cook, she was well aware of the difficulties involved roasting a large goose no less ... let's see thirty guests, one and a half to two pounds of choice cut meat each, discounting head, bones and internal organ weight, the male would have to have a pre-cooked weight of about one hundred and sixty pounds. Nervously she broke her own rule and lit a second cigarette.

Mentally she listed the problems:

  1. Where and how would you come by the male?
  2. Selectioncriteria:
    • Size (weight/height/skin color/age)
    • Body condition (fat/plump/thin/flabby)
    • Meat quality (smoker/drinker/exercise/eating habits)
  3. Howto get home?
  4. Restraintsand control (until cooked)?
  5. Caring (untilcooked):
    • Feeding (fattening)
    • Pre-stuffing
    • Marinating
    • Cleaning
  6. Cooking:
    • Method (oven/barbecue/pit)
    • Stuffing
    • Cook Time
    • Seasonings

Not to mention how one goes about oven roasting a whole male. What a fantastic idea! Imagining the presentation effect of a whole male, cooked to a golden brown, served up steaming hot on her large silver platter.

Susan imagined the roast set in the classic serving position (trussed like a turkey, arms tied to the legs, hands to feet, rump thrust upwards and forward inviting the carving knife) garnished with exotic fruits and vegetables — the classic apple stuffed in the mouth with celery stalks (leaves at the top) inserted in the rump.

First things first ... selection of the meat. Domesticated animals raised especially for human consumption were kept in a controlled environment ... not so for humans. What the person ate, vices (smoking, drinking) exercise regimen all would influence the flavor of the meat. It wasn't as easy as going to the supermarket and squeezing a roast or flirting with the butcher to get he best cut of meat.

She decided to get dressed in her most suggestive outfit and go to Lydia's. Lydia's was a local upper-end vegetarian restaurant. That way, Susan thought, she would have the opportunity to inspect the "roast" carefully, make sure he did not smoke or drink and was a strict vegetarian ... the optimum criteria in her mind for high quality human meat.

Susan dressed carefully for her "shopping trip", wearing a black low cut dress (showing as much cleavage as possible), three inch heals, her hair down around her shoulders and perhaps just a bit more make-up than usual, she was ready.

She arrived at around eight thirty and the restaurant was near empty. She was seated in the bar where she could look over the likely candidates. The two men at the end of the bar were perhaps in their early forties, so she ruled them out — doubly so the instant they lit cigars. One man just coming back from the men's room was obviously drunk — so he was out too. Disappointed, realizing it would take a little while longer than she had hoped, Susan kept nursing her drink, telling herself things would pick up the later in the evening.

Susan lit a cigarette and watched as a middle age man sat at the end of the bar. She followed him intently, overhearing him ordering a glass of white wine. A wine drinker ... perhaps ... preferable to hard liquor. Susan looked him up and down and guessed his weight to be around a hundred eighty pounds. He wasn't fat, but he was rather best described as perhaps "plump" ... good so far.

She couldn't help laughing to herself — here she was inspecting an unsuspecting man to be the main course of her dinner party. She couldn't help wondering what he would say if he knew she wasn't flirting with him ... she was just shopping for her dinner roast.

Catching his eye, Susan coyly reached for matches to light her cigarette. Taking the hint he came over,

Oh-oh thought Susan a smoker ... too bad he was looking so good.

Great! she thought.

Talking easily, Susan soon found out Larry was the perfect candidate — he met all the criteria. Now how to get him home and in the pantry?

Seated at table Susan was gratified to learn Larry was on a business trip. Since he was single and out of town, it would take some time before he was reported missing. Perfect, no inquiring family or friends in the state. The sleeping pills in Susan's purse were very strong ... they'd work.

Her plan was to flirt with Larry and interest him in a wild night in bed. Once home she would fix drinks ... a special one for Larry. When he awoke he would be secured in her pantry and ready for the necessary cruelties awaiting him.

Susan was half listening to the table talk, her mind was on getting Larry home. Staring at him she thought he was kind of cute ... not really good-looking but a pleasant man to look at. She couldn't help picturing him trussed up on her large Teflon coated roasting platter, legs trimmed like an oversized turkey, stuffing oozing out from between his legs as she basted him with his own rich drippings.

Driving in separate cars Susan made sure not to lose site of Larry's headlights — she didn't want to lose him now after investing the whole evening.

It would not do to have Larry's car at her home so she stopped at a local convenience store. Larry pulled in behind her. Walking over to his car she explained that nosy neighbors could start a gossip free-for-all if they saw his car parked out front and asked him if he would mind leaving his car there and driving the rest of the way in hers.

Larry understood perfectly and, locking his doors, climbed into Susan's car. Acting impulsively, Susan leaned over and gave Larry a deep kiss,

She couldn't help but notice the bulge in Larry's crotch showing through his pants. Musing to herself she thought about Larry's plan for her ... she was sure he had no idea where that "bulge" would actually end up in about a week.

Susan pulled into her drive just about midnight. They got out and walked up to the house. Larry looked around as Susan opened the door, then held it open for her as she went in, then he followed. Susan quickly drew the shades as Larry remove his coat and laid it over the chair.

Susan's daughter had been asleep for hours now. She turned on the stereo — soft Johnny Mathos music was perfect to start the evening. Ducking into the kitchen she checked the pantry. The pantry was a small 8.X.10 foot room off the kitchen. It had a heavy oak door and a small shuttered window facing the back yard. This past week Susan had installed a heavy chain contraption which was equipped with a professional pair of hand and leg cuffs she found at a local S&M 'Play Store" — possibly thinking about having long-pig subconsciously for weeks before the idea bubbled up to her consciousness.

The pantry also had a small drain in one corner and two hose bibs — hot and cold — perfect for what she had in mind. A traveling porta-potty, the kind used in campers, was stored in the cornor and now would come in handy for storing her prize for about a week.

Carrying a nice bottle of Chianti Susan returned to the living room and sat on the couch next to Larry. She poured some into a brandy sniffer and handed it to him.

Smiling, Larry took the sniffer and swirled it around then sniffed. He smiled again, then took a sip, tasting the wine,

He took a good swig, swishing it in his mouth, then swallowed.

Leaning back on the couch she deliberately allowed her skirt to raise up high on her thighs. Larry's view of "leg" along with the wine helped overcome any self-restraint he might have had and he leaned over and kissed Susan lightly on the lips.

Susan responded with a deep kiss and placed Larry's hand on her breast. Sighing softly, she began to slowly move his hand down her body. Larry responded by grabbing her arms and twisting her around and laying her down across the couch.

Raising up, Larry began to unbutton his shirt he attempted to whisper in her ear. Suddenly the room began turning and his speech became slurred,

And he passed out on the couch. Susan checked Larry's responses,

Nothing.... Larry was out cold ... time to go to work.

Dragging him into the pantry on the highly polished floors was easier than she had thought it would be. Carefully she pulled and twisted and and stretched his arms and legs, snapping the hand and leg cuffs on him before he awoke. He was all twisted around and would surely be cramped when he did wake up, but for now he was peacefully oblivious to everything.

Susan started pulling off his clothes, getting a good look at her prize. She slid his shirt off his back to reveal shoulders which were firm and meaty. Larry's body appeared to have a good balance between muscle and fat — better than too much lean — the meat would be well marbled ... perfect for roasting. Susan got up and went to the kitchen for a butcher knife ... to cut the clothes off before the man ... the long-pig came to.

It was harder to cut through the new fabric than she thought it would be ... like everything, she mused. But soon the shirt was in several pieces and she went back to denuding her prey. She undid his belt and slipped it out of the loops, snapping it and imagining giving that firm male flesh some decorative stripes just for the fun of it ... but it would be wasted on an unconscious male, she decided, so she went back to the work at hand.

Susan undid the snap and pulled the zipper down and started slithering his pants down his hips, over his well rounded rump. She admired Larry's firm well rounded rump sure to be a prime cut at Sunday's dinner. His loins were plump and tender and promised to be a choice cut as well. She ran her hand over his glutes, shivering, feeling her nipples tighten as she imagined carving through the meat ... just wishing she could butcher him alive instead of cooking him whole. Oh well, maybe some other time.

Susan cut through the thin suit fabric — again more difficult than she imagined it would be. She finally figured out slitting through the seams was quickest, but still she didn't have the experience to do it easily.

Once the pants were off Susan played with Larry's underwear — tiny yellow jockey's ... the kind you'd expect to see on a nineteen year old super taut swimmer but not on anyone older. Susan ran her fingers lightly over the tight-packed fabric, sliding her fingers over it, shivering, half trembling.

She then grabbed the knife again and smirked, sliding her fingers over the smooth, cold stainless steel, licking her finger and sliding it along the super-sharp cutting edge. She grinned to herself and slipped the blade under the one inch wide waistband and twisted the blade to the side, sliding it ever so slightly ... letting the tight band cut itself through.

The tingle-tightness in her tits spread down to her belly-button and through her belly to her guts and churned inside her tight female parts as she grabbed the other side of the waistband and held it so she could cut through it. She shook her shoulders and squeezed her breasts together as her fingers trembled.

She lightly fondled the less-taut but even more full fabric, letting it slip over the prize inside. She slid the smooth nylon off Larry's cock and slid her finger tips lightly over the soft, rubbery cock-head, musing at how small it was when not "on the hunt" ... how insignificant ... especially for something that caused so much trouble.

Larry's cock was not as large as Susan had imagined it would be ... nowhere near as large as she had hoped for ... but pan-fried in garlic and butter, stuffed with a sharp cheddar cheese ... it would produce a tasty appetizer.

All in all, she was pleased with her selection — she had chosen a healthy, well fed male that would cook up tender and juicy ... she took the opportunity to slide her body across his, pressing her hard nipples hard into his hard male flesh, running her lips lightly over his fine beard stubble, letting the stiff-cut hairs tickle her lips before finding his and pressing them hard against his, breathing in his slow breath, heavy with alcohol. She ran her fingers through his hair and fondled his unconscious body, shivering with the delightful knowledge that he was now destined to be turned into meat ... nothing more than that. She had reduced a man to a farm animal and soon would be butchering him ... it.

It was the most sexually stimulating thing ever ... not a fantasy, reality. It would almost make up for the bad experiences she'd always had with men ... the only good thing that ever came of men in her life were her two daughters. After several minutes raping her prey, Susan pushed herself up, off him. She looked down at the still peacefully passed out male and grinned. Now it was to the pre-stuffing arrangements.

For the next several days Larry's body must be "cleaned" inside and out. His diet up until butchering would only consist of pound cake and brandy. Susan would force feed Larry as much of this food as he could take. Soon this diet would "purge" Larry's system and help give the meat a good flavor. The brandy would be necessary to keep Larry comfortably drunk so he would be easier to control and in his intoxicated state prevent him from realizing his final fate.

Near the end Susan would inject the brandy directly into Larry's bloodstream. By checking his stool, Susan would be aware of that time Larry's intestinal track was completely purged of his former intake and ready for further preparation. In a way Larry was a living marinade until he was to be butchered and roasted. Saturday morning Susan would begin the hair removal in preparation for roasting.

By now it was well past three in the morning, and Susan was dead tired. Tomorrow morning early she would tell Clarise about her plan and measure her reaction. She was sure Clarise would be supportive and eager to help with the dinner preparations. Susan dragged herself up the steps, leaned her head on her bedroom door for a minute or more before turning the handle, then half fell into the room, stumbling forward. It was all she could do to stand by her bed long enough to unzip and unbutton and drop her clothes to the floor before she plopped onto te bed, pleased with her night's work.

She awoke early and went straight to the pantry. Larry was curled in a fetal position sleeping heavily. She knelt down and poked at him to be sure he was still under. Then she untied one shoe then the other and slipped his shoes then socks off. Now he was as naked as the day he was born ... except for all that hair.

She went back into the kitchen and came back with his first serving of pound cake and a water glass full of brandy. She poked harder, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him, grabbing his hair and pulling his head back and pulling his eyes open with her thumbs till he started to rouse,

Larry's eyes started to twitch, then startled. He stirred and then groaned. His eyes were still unfocussed and his voice raspy, but he was coming to.

With a pang of remorse, Susan's voice became hard,

Larry almost choked on the brandy coughing and sputtering. Susan was prepared for having to "influence" Larry's behavior during the few days of marinating. Armed with a cattle prod she applied it to Larry's leg ... instantly his legs shot out straight as the high voltage slammed into his body.

Raising the glass to his lips he drank almost half in one swallow. Susan waited for the brandy to have the desired result. In about fifteen minutes, Larry showed signs of getting heavily drunk. Removing the brandy Susan forced as much pound cake into Larry as possible.

Susan continued Larry's pre-stuffing four times each day. On the fourth day Susan had to impose a tight gag as Larry had became very loud and aggressive. It was just as well — tomorrow Larry would meet his destiny. Still, he had to be made tractable. She cattle-prodded him in the balls and ass and kidneys — however he squirmed he couldn't protect his whole body — until he was panting and limp-weak. Susan pulled the gag down and held his head back by the hair and poured brandy down his gullet. He couldn't resist and swallowed more than a pint in quick order.

Susan made sure Larry was dead drunk and totally non-resistive before she started shaving his body hair. It took the better part of an hour and, like everything else so far, it was more difficult than she had anticipated. Dead to the world as he was, she had to hold his arms up to shave under them, hold his legs apart, roll him over, hold his butt-cheeks apart, wiping away the baby-ooze from his ass-hole during the shaving.

By the time she was satisfied, all she had left Larry was his eyebrows and lashes and hair on his head where a young boy has hair. Other than that, she left Larry bald as a baby. It was kind of sad — this was Larry's last day as a man, tomorrow he would be just meat, ready to be cooked for the pleasure of people he never met.


The next morning Susan was having coffee with Clarise.

Clarise sniggered, sipping her morning coffee.

She sniggered again, and snorted,

They both laughed and decided to finish breakfast and start to work. As Susan was finishing her morning cigarette Clarise peeked in on Larry.

She chortled and turned around. Susan told her daughter it would be better if they just wore jeans and an apron and nothing else so they stripped off everything and pulled on jeans and aprons, helping each other, fondling each other — Susan first, cupping her daughter's breasts and kissing them. As her daughter ran her fingers through her mother's hair, Susan rubbed her cheeks across her daughters full, firm breasts, feeling a tingle as the nipples swelled and poked her in the cheek. She moved her mouth over her daughter's left breast and kissed it, sucking lightly, tonguing the hard, erect nipple nib within the swollen areola then slowly sucked on them, harder and harder, nursing on them as her daughter breathed hard, running her hands all over her mother's naked back, pulling her mother's face hard to her breast, clawing at her mother's back, both gasping hard till each felt that delicious warmth radiating through their guts, between their thighs, panting, Calise pulling her mother's head up off her breast and locking her lips to her own. Susan responded and both sucked at each other's face until their passions were sated and they were nearly exhausted — passion-exhausted but more alert and ready than ever.

Susan nodded her head toward the pantry and they both straightened each other's aprons and went in, still breathing hard. By now Larry was half sitting up but still very drunk. Susan squatted down in front of Larry and slapped him to get his attention.

Clarise got down on her knees and swayed her breasts in his face, pulling his face into cleft between the pillows, twisting her shoulders back and forth, sliding her nipples over his stubbly cheeks and teasingly across his lips. Then she grabbed his hair and jerked his head back and slapped his face, then backhanded it.

Larry's resistance and sense of self had been well broken and he broke down and cried like a little baby, tears filling his soft cow-eyes, dripping down both sides of his reddening nose. She laughed at him and taunted, grabbing his hair and jerking his head back, forcing his mouth open, grabbing his head with her thighs and forcing his nose into her cunt, sliding it back and forth, using his nose as a small dildo, rubbing her swelled clit against it, sniggering,

Susan put her hand on her daughter's shoulder,

Clarise squeezed Larry's head between her thighs till he started shaking and struggling, twisting hard, struggling for breath. Then she suddenly released him and he sagged to the floor, gasping for breath, crying all the more. He kept blubbering,

He didn't really understand yet, but Susan talked to him like he did,

After a few more minutes, Larry stopped struggling and wrinkled his brow,

Susan smiled at his beginning to realize what she had in store for him. She stroked his hair then ran her finger over his cheek, wiping a tear from his eye, lightly stroking his sand-paper stubbly cheek, then reaching down to his still meaty pectoral, softer, more tender with middle-age, grabbing it, squeezing it, clawing her fingernails under the jut and digging in, pretending to get ready to rip it off like a harpy, sniggering,

Finally Larry understood. His face crinkled in desperate mental agony, his mouth agape in a silent scream.

He twisted his head back and forth, eyes squeezed tight, tears streaming down his cheeks. Susan stroked his hair, combing her fingers through his hair, there-there'ing like a mother talking to her young son,

Larry just slumped, stunned. Susan held a glass of brandy to his lips and he sipped and swallowed, then gulped as fast as she could tilt it into his mouth.

Larry slumped to the floor, and lay there inert, like a sleeping cat — deceptively peaceful. Susan talked to her daughter like he wasn't there — maybe he wasn't ... in his head.

Both women laughed. Susan reached for her lighter when Clarise asked,

Susan snickered at her pun.

She pointed to Larry's cock,

Susan coated her hands in cooking oil and began to manually manipulate Larry's cock. Despite his being nearly unconscious, Larry's body roused some and within a minute or two his member reacted instinctively and started getting hard.

Susan stretched a think rubber band, the kind that holds stalks of broccoli together; she carefully fingered Larry's throbbing hard cock into the band and coaxed it all the way down the shaft then had to stretch it even more to pull one then the other ball through. She then let it snap tight, startling Larry back to semi-lucid consciousness. Susan then slipped a string noose around Larry's cock-and-balls neck and pulled it tight as she could pull it — even tighter than the rubber band. Cock-and-balls-neck flesh bulged between the two strangulaters. Larry's cock was so thick and full of blood the veins bulged, the muscular wrapping round the cock showed through the thin, slippery-looking skin. The head was flared and bright purple, so full of blood the piss slit was flared open wide enough to shove a pencil eraser down it.

Clarise was bug-eyed with delighted fascination as she watched intently her mother reaching for a sharp paring knife and lightly drawing the sharp blade around the bulge of flesh between the tight-noosed string and the equally strangulating rubber band round the neck of Larry's cock and balls.

Larry startled all the way awake, reacting violently, straining against his bonds, as Susan traced the line she had just made, pushing the blade deep into his flesh, half cutting through the meat and cords and things. Mother and daughter tittered as they waited for Larry's struggles to weaken him, sniggering at how the hard cock and tight, fatty hard-boiled eggs bounced back and forth even looser and freer than they would have if they weren't already half cut off.

Gradually Larry's struggles became weaker and Susan grabbed the half-separated cock and balls, stretched them, put the blade in place, then jerk, cleanly separating Larry's cock and balls from his body as he screamed and whimpered like a fresh hickory-whupped little boy.

Susan brought the still hot, blood-filled hard meat to the sink and carefully washed it in cold water.

Mother and daughter laughed.

By now Larry was limp with despair and resignation. There was no fight left in him. He didn't even lift his head when the women came back into the small pantry.

Clarise helped her mother noose Larry's ankles and pull the rope snug. Larry didn't even wriggle or raise his head, but he did open his eyes and look up just past his bushy eyebrows to the two women. His mouth crinkled a little and tears dripped down on both sides of his nose into his slack-jawed slightly open mouth.

The two women started pulling the rope taut. Still no reaction. But soon as they pulled his ankles off the floor along with his lower legs, Larry started to whimper softly. Mother and daughter completely ignored him and kept pulling hand over fist, putting all their weight into hefting more and more off the floor.

By the time his butt was all the way off the floor and his back was starting to lift off, Larry breathed in deeply then sighed a long, moanful sigh. The two women totally ignored him and kept pulling him higher and higher, lifting his back all the way off the floor, his shoulders, his arms twisting side to side limply, his head lolling.

By the time his feet were pulled all the way up to the ceiling and his hands were slowly swinging free of the floor, Susan took hold of a large carving knife and leaned forward and grabbed Larry's hair and pulled his head and neck forward.

He looked at her with those soft, sad cow eyes of his, now even softer with tears. His lips were quivering but he wasn't trying to say anything. He closed his eyes as Susan said,

She put the knife to his throat and was about to slice when her daughter grabbed her hand and said,

Susan wasn't sure what Clarise was up to, but she was happy her daughter had her own desires to abuse males ... it is so much fun, she thought to herself. She let go of Larry's hair and stepped back, giving her daughter room. Clarise unzipped her jeans and pulled them down. Then she stepped out of them and to the male, his face a little lower than her crotch height. She spread her thighs and reached down for the male's head and pulled it forward and up between her thighs, then forced his face into her crotch, squeezing her thighs together and holding his nose in her pussy.

Despite his resignation, Larry's body didn't want to die, didn't want to suffocate and he began to thrash. That just made Clarise excited and she clamped her thighs together all the more. Larry's desperate sucking and blowing through his nose and mouth tickled her sensitive female parts, making her shudder, squeezing her nipples achy-tight as she twisted her shoulders back and forth, jerking to make her breasts dance.

Susan was getting excited and stepped to the side and pulled her daughter's face to hers and planted her lips on her daughters'. They kissed passionately as Clarise squeezed even tighter. Then as her mother frenched her, Clarise let go a morning's worth of piss right into Larry's nostrils.

He gagged and snorted and sputtered, taking Clarise from one orgasm to another, higher and higher, ecstatic beyond her ability to imagine — far beyond any ability to describe.

It was a good five, maybe ten minutes before Clarise started coming down and opened her thighs, letting the smothered-to-unconsciousness male's head drop. He was still breathing, but barely, bubbles frothing out his nostrils though he was breathing through his slack-jawed mouth.

Susan was much pleased with her daughter and handed her the knife, giving her the honors. She took hold of the handle with one hand, grabbed Larry's hair with the other and pulled his head and neck forward. Then she lined the blade up with his left ear and casually pressed down as she pulled it across his throat, cutting deep enough to draw blood.

Then she stopped. She paused for a minute or more, then looked to her mother and said,

Clarise put her finger to her mouth, lowered her face a little, looked up to her mother like a little girl with a very mischievous thought, then said,

Susan grinned happily, then said,

Clarise stepped out and brought a large plastic wash-tub back into the pantry,

Susan said,

and left and came back in with a couple old shower curtains, spread them out under the hanging-by-the-ankles male then put the wash-tub under Larry's hanging hands, pulling it mostly forward so the guts would fall out into the tub. She then picked up the knife and handed it to her daughter, grinning, anxiously waiting, her lips trembling with excitement, squeezing her arms together, pressing her breasts together so her hard nipples pointed out like pointing fingers.

Clarise took the knife in hand and ran it up and down Larry's belly ... even though he wasn't cut like a body-builder, hanging like he was upside down, his belly muscles were much more defined with a well defined zipper line down the middle from where his cock and balls had hung all the way to the depression between his two breasts.

The blade tickled a thin line — a blood string ... with tiny blood-pearls growing all up and down the belly. Larry was moaning, starting to rouse again — groggy, befuddled, addled, but conscious, if only barely sensate.

Clarise knelt so she could grab his face and pull it up some so he could look up past her breasts to her face. She grinned at him. She then spread her legs and straddled his head again and held his face into her cunt and pissed into his nose again, laughing.

She said,

Susan nodded and her daughter continued,

Susan pondered then said,

Clarise was more determined,

Susan thought a minute, then said,

With that, Clarise had her mother help her move the tub, lower Larry to the floor, tie his wrists to the pulley-rope, then pull him back up, his fingers just inches from the ceiling. They tied his ankles to the sides and put the plastic wash tub under Larry's ass, already dripping baby-shit green slime. Clarise drew her finger across it, brought it to her nose and sniffed.

Clarise grinned wide at the prospect of doing it again, nodding,

She went out to the garage then came back with the hose. She screwed it into the cold water sill cock then held the hose end up against Larry's jaw and neck, marking it about where it would be if the expansion-bulb was about heart-height. Then as her mother held Larry's mouth open, she started forcing the hose down his throat — forcing Larry to swallow the bulb, not allowing him to gag it out. She fed it down to the mark and held the hose tight and told her mother to turn on the water,

Susan turned it on as quick as she could and Clarise had to hold on tight to keep the hose from backing up before the bulb filled in and locked itself in place, then she loosened her grip and then let loose entirely.

Larry struggled as his belly quickly blew up like a taut wine-skin, then the fullness bloated toward the right, then back and forth across his belly, blowing up his whole belly like he had swallowed a whole watermelon — like he was pregnant — then suddenly a gush of water started spraying out his ass — a messy spray at first, then a steadier stream, quickly filling the washtub with brown-green baby-shit half-digested pound cake, then turned clear.

Larry was snorting and trying to scream, his eyes were peeled back like a frightened horse's eyes. His struggles were held in check by his stretch-ropes and his screams were muffled by the hose in his throat — he could barely breathe, much less scream.

Susan turned the water off. It kept gushing and spilling over the sides. There was a mess but it was mostly washing down the drain so the two decided to dump the wash tub and get it out of the way. They turned on the water again and moved Larry's lower torso around, aiming the spray to wash the slosh down the drain.

Then Susan unscrewed the hose and screwed it on the hot water bib and as Clarise held the hose again, she turned it on full. Larry thrashed all the harder as his guts were suddenly scalded, throwing his head back and forth so hard Clarise had to grab his hair to keep him from snapping his neck. She danced around to keep from being splashed too much by the warm but no longer scalding water gushing from the male's ass-hole.

After five, maybe ten minutes of scalding hot water cooking his guts, Larry was fought out. Susan turned off the water and after a few minutes, Larry's ballooned guts were almost back to normal. Mother and daughter now pulled the hose out and let their long-pig hang by his wrists, head lolling only half-conscious as they went in to prepare for the cooking.

They pulled out celery and herbs and cornbread stuffing mix and started boiling the water to pre-cook that before stuffing. They then cut some yams and mixed them with a couple cans of diced pineapple. And then chopped some fresh cranberries and sprinkled saccharine and aspartame on the cranberries then mixed them with frozen French-cut string beans. They mixed the stuffing spices and chopped celery then mixed in the corn bread, making about three gallons for stuffing.

They got out the seven foot roasting pan and set it on the twelve-foot long chopping block center island, then went back into the pantry and hosed Larry off, washing off all the sprayed baby-shit that had gotten on him during the clean out. Larry was almost beyond knowing what was going on, but not quite. He tried but couldn't resist as they lowered him and dragged him into the kitchen and flopped him up onto the long roasting pan.

They rolled him over onto his belly, turning his head to the side, then pulled his butt up, pulling his knees up under him and wrapping his floppy-arms around the back of his knees. And tied them in place so his body wouldn't sag — at least not that way — it could fall over but not sag.

With his butt high, it was easy for the two women to start stuffing the well-cleaned out guts. As Susan pried the cheeks apart, Clarise took a handful of the cranberry-string-bean mix and shoved it in as far as she could — up to her elbow. Then another handful, and another and another. After several dozen handsful, Larry was moaning again — again semi-conscious.

Mother and daughter traded places for more stuffing. It was a lot slower and more difficult than they had bargained for but after about an hour, mother and daughter had stuffed their long-pig's lower guts full and were using a meat-grinder masher to pack in more and more. Somehow they were able to get everything in, including all three gallons of corn-bread stuffing.

Then they untied Larry's wrists and let his body slowly sag flat on the platter, still belly down. Clarise got out all the ice she could and packed Larry's head with ice, wrapping ice in a towel and putting it around his head to hold the ice together. Then the two women slid the huge commercial oven's slide-in tray out and hefted the well-stuffed male and platter onto the tray. Then they slid Larry into the oven. Susan wiped tears from his soft cow-eyes before closing the door, sniggering at him.

They turned on the oven low — about 200F. As Larry moaned mother and daughter again made passionate love with each other, feeling each other to orgasm several times before opening the oven and pulling the tray out to baste their long-pig with spiced basting butter. They'd do this for several hours so his back cooked real good and tender before flipping him over and raising the temperature to 350 later that night, letting him roast for a few hours before turning the temperature back down to 200 to keep the meat warm and tender till the women came, finishing the cooking slowly so it would be fall-off-the-bone tender and succulent.

Then they got ready for the special lunch they had cut his cock and balls off for earlier. But first mother and daughter sat down to share cigarettes and coffee.

Clarise carefully pulled the testicles out and washed them and placed them on the cutting board. Using a very sharp paring knife she carefully removed the attached blood vessels and tubes until all that was left was the meat. Using her very sharp butcher's knife she sliced the testicles into thin wafers. She then placed the meat in a bread-crumb batter coating them thoroughly.

Larry's cock had not shrunk at all because the blood was trapped inside — there was only a small amount of blood and that was mixed with the lemon juice. Rinsing the cock one last time, Susan took her cake decorator and filled it with a creamy, sharp cheddar cheese.

Susan placed the nozzle in the tip of the cock and forced into it as much cheese as she could into the piss-tube. Then she stretched the rubber band holding the blood inside, letting most ooze out. She then cleaned out the syringe and filled it with creamy brie, clamping the rubber-band over the flesh pulled over the syringe so the cheese stayed inside. She had to fill the tube a couple times more to pump the cock up hard and full, but it would be worth the effort, she knew.

Susan pulled the tube out while squeezing in as much brie as she could, letting the rubber band squeeze the end closed so just about nothing oozed out. Next she sliced some onions and garlic thin, asking,

Using a meat tong Susan carefully laid the stuffed cock in the pan. The hot butter sizzled as the meat began to cook. She sprinkled the meat with onions and garlic. Soon the aroma of fresh cooking meat filled the kitchen.

Susan carefully turned the meat to make sure it was cooking evenly.

When there was enough cooking juices from Larry's cock, Susan began placing the breaded sliced testicles in the hot spitting gravy.

Mother and daughter opened the oven and pulled Larry out. While Susan basted his legs and thighs, feet and ankles, butt and loins, arms and shoulders, Clarise got out more ice and packed Larry's head, checking to see if there was any life left in his eyes. He looked at her and winced as much as his near-cooked muscles would allow. Clarise grinned, cupped her hands under her naked breasts, holding them up, sniggering, pinching the nipples, holding them up and trying to lick them, then wagged them in front of his face. She then wiped tears out of his eyes then mother and daughter shoved their gelded long-pig back in to roast more.

Susan went back to check on the sauteing cock, using a fork to pierce the cock, checking for doneness. There was no blood at all — the meat was cooked through. Clarise threw together a small luncheon salad for two and set the table. Susan drained the cooking grease from the pan and placed half the patties on each plate. Picking up the carving knife she measured the cock in half and with a quick slice parted it cleanly in two.

Susan slid Clarise's portion on her plate. The cock had cooked perfectly — the blood in the muscle had congealed around the outer meat perfectly. The brie was soft and oozy, almost like cum. The cheddar cheese was also soft and oozy. Susan made a mental note to reverse the cheeses next time — the white brie would look like real cut oozing out the piss-tube.

Susan sliced off a piece of the cock and forked it into her mouth. Rolling her eyes, mouth full she looked at Clarise and said,

Clarise was chewing and nodded in agreement,

Susan snorted her agreement as she savored the meat and cheese in her mouth. Too busy eating, table talk was sparse until mother and daughter had eaten their fill.

Dawdling over their coffee and cigarettes Susan said,

The two women just sat there. Clarise said,

Several minutes passed while they just sat there looking at each other, grinning, patting their bellies, twisting a little, starting to get up then not. Finally Susan got up and Clarise followed.

They checked on Larry again, repacked his head with ice, poked the thighs and glutes to see how they were cooking and decided to let him roast for a few hours before checking on him again. He'd no doubt be dead, but Larry was already so far gone that he was probably not feeling anything now — just some kind of fog in his head.

Clarise then cleared the table and, yawning, followed her mother upstairs. Pretty much exhausted from their labors, the two women plopped into bed together, wrapping their arms round each other, kissing like the lovers they had become, then slowly passing out.

After a couple hours they got up and went down and started working on final preparations. They pulled Larry out to find he was indeed dead — or too far gone to know what was going on now.

The two women put on oven mitts and turned Larry over onto his back, putting his hands under his head so the thinner meat wouldn't overcook. They tented Larry's head with aluminum foil and basted his underarms and arms and pecs and belly and thighs and legs. They tented Larry's feet so those would not over cook, then turned the oven up to 350F and went about chopping and mixing and setting things aside in the refrigerator.

After everything was prepared for the morrow, they turned the oven down to 200F again and pulled the long-pig out and basted it again. They tented the whole body so the skin wouldn't burn overnight. Susan pried Larry's mouth open and stuffed in an apple.

After another pack of cigarettes and a large pot of coffee, the two women went up to retire early. Instead of sleeping in separate rooms like they always had before, Clarise slept in her mother's bed and they cuddled and nuzzled all through the night.

Susan was up and dressed at six in the morning. She checked on the meat to be sure it wasn't cooking too fast. When Clarise got up and came down, the two women turned the long-pig over to roast some more on his belly — about seven hours at 250F, basting it every thirty minutes or so.

Between bastings, they made up a thick glaze of chunky apple sauce and cinnamon and basted Larry's shoulders and back and rump and thighs for hours as the glaze turned to hard candy which only cracked a little while they turned the carcass over for the final stage of cooking at about three in the afternoon — 350F for three hours, glazed every ten minutes now, then turned down to 200F for the last two hours.

They cooked what they had prepared the day before and had more than enough for thirty-plus ravenous women ... they hoped.

Around seven mother and daughter began dressing for dinner. Although not a formal affair it was a special occasion. Susan settled on a low cut black cocktail dress which complimented her shapely figure. Clarise chose a green pant suit outfit with a matching silk blouse. Both women wore heels and some jewelry appropriate for an informal occasion.

Susan nervously lit a cigarette waiting for the arrival of the her first guests. She planned to start the evening with wine and hors d'oeuvres and begin serving dinner at eight. Clarise came into the dining room, walking over to her mother, she said,

She took the cigarette and began smoking.

Just then the door bell rang and Susan jumped to greet three of the guests. In just a few minutes the house was filled with women milling about, sampling the hors d'oeuvres and sipping wine. Several women drifted into the kitchen enticed by the aroma of the night's roast.

By this time the roast was fully cooked. The top portions of the meat closest to the heating element had turned a dark, crispy brown while the lower portions were only a bit less cooked and lighter in color — it was hard to tell with the hard glaze. A few places the crust had cracked and the deep brown cooked meat showed through. Over stuffing had forced some of the dressing out of Larry's ass, mixing with the cooking juices that puddled on the roasting platter.

Carefully, the two women pulled the sliding tray out, got it balanced on the center island, and started pulling the platter off. It was a little more than awkward so Susan called Clarise in. A couple other women came with her and all five pulled on oven mitts and dragged the platter off the sliding tray and onto the chopping block table.

Other women came in and soon everyone had to see Larry before he was carved.

Clarise spooned out the cooked potatoes and carrots arranging them around the roast. Susan forced a large leafy carrot where Larry's cock would have been and Karen placed parsley sprigs behind the ears. A fresh apple replaced the cooked one and two cherry halves were tooth-picked over Larry's closed eyes.

After three-quarters hour of gawking and touching and talking, the women were all ready for dinner. Several helped move the platter onto a large serving cart, then Susan tinged her empty wine glass to get their attention, then called on the Rev. Deborah Wallace to say grace. The pastor had everyone go into the living room where she thanked God for their dinner and prayed for God's blessing on them.

That formality over with, Susan announced,

Clarise rolled in the serving cart. The presentation was magnificent — the whole cooked roast was spectacular. All the women clapped as they moved closer to inspect their dinner entree again — for one last time as a whole glazed long-pig.

Midst the clapping the guests were saying,

Standing behind the serving cart Susan cut open Larry's belly, exposing the stuffed large intestines and cut them into two-inch slices. She then started carving breast and love handles and thighs. The women lined up and Susan greeted each one asking which cut of meat she preferred,

Terry Sanders a tall, strikingly pretty brunette started whispering intensely to Karen. Suddenly both women broke out laughing.

Terry spoke first,

Both women laughed hard and long.

Susan shoved the knife into the as-of-yet-uncut glute pressed to the platter and sliced through it, pulling out a good three pound chunk out from under and slid it onto Terry's plate.

As the women kept coming, Susan continued to slice of thick, juicy cuts of meat as she chatted with her girlfriends. In less then an hour all the women were busily eating their dinners, praising the roast and the whole dinner in general. As the last guest was served she sliced a tender shoulder steak for herself and carved off two meaty ribs for Clarise.

And so it went the rest of the evening as friends asked for recipes and praised the dinner. By eleven most of the guests had begun to say good night as Clarise and Terry began clearing the dishes.

grilled human male pec-steak, skin on, with French Fries