Her Last Resort

Chapter 5: En Brochette

There's nothing like a metal pole running through your body from cunt to mouth to put things in perspective. With her fate sealed, physically and irrevocably, her inhibitions and fear of death melted away. She didn't care any more that she was naked on a public stage. She didn't care any more that her audience was planning to eat her. She was still a little worried that the Matron had sugar-coated what it would be like to be cooked alive over a fire, but she was way past any ability to mitigate the situation so she decided not to think about it. Whatever they were going to do to her, they would do.

The spit was turning faster, now, moving through her body faster. She watched the bloody ridges on it's surface going past her nose, an inch away from her eyes. It was about all she could see, now. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feelings at the other end of her body. Intense, electric feelings! The speeded up shaft was doing egregiously delicious things to her super-sensitized G-spots! A new seismic wave was building rapidly! She focused on it. Helped it grow. Urged it on! Why not? She remembered reading somewhere that the last resort of the defeated is to surrender and make the best deal you can.

The irony of the word did not escape her. She'd been a party girl, addicted to the twin lures of full-throttle sex with unabashedly macho men and blackjack tables in noisy gambling resorts. Kevin — strong, commanding, handsome — had baited the hook and she had snapped it up like a hungry trout. Now she was a trophy on a stick. He had lured her to her last resort. She had gambled and lost.

Time to make the best of it! She let it come! The wave swept up through her! Took her breath away! Stiffened her body with electric fire! She trembled and vibrated on her spit, rolling her hips, fucking the shaft, feeling its new slipperyness in her cunt as her girl juices poured out. No sound issued from her demolished vocal cords, but her lips made indecent sucking movements on the hard steel.

As she drifted down from the peak of her orgasm, she felt hands removing the cuffs and straps that had been holding her rigidly in place. She felt the metal board behind her lifted out and removed. Her arms were pulled severely behind her, hands on the opposite elbow and wired together, forearm to forearm. It pulled her shoulders back and forced her breasts out. She remembered how reluctant she'd been just a day earlier to bare her nipples and pussy at the nude beach. How ridiculous such modesty seemed now! The wires bit into her arms and really began to hurt. She whimpered a little. But someone painted the afflicted area with a cold substance and in a moment the pain was gone. Apparently the Matron was being honest with her. This was really going to be painless.

A fist worked its way under her bottom and took a grip on the spit. Someone said, “Okay boys, up she goes,” and she felt herself move. They were lifting her out of the machine that had impaled her, the fist in her crotch keeping her from sliding down the spit while it was still vertical. She couldn't see much since she was unable to move her head at all and the spit obscured most of her vision, but as the spit was lowered to horizontal she caught sight of a trestle, like a small saw-horse. She saw the end of the spit beyond her mouth dropped into a notch in the trestle and all movement came to a stop. She guessed there was an identical trestle at the other end.

Her body was impaled on the spit, but her legs hung down, her toes touching the stage floor. She found she could lift them a little, but it caused burning pain elsewhere in her body so she quickly desisted. There was a clanking of metal and vibrations in the spit. They were doing something to it but she couldn't tell what. She felt a familiar hand caressing her shoulder

“Now you just relax, dear,” the Matron said. “All they're doing now is attaching a little crossbar to the spit so they can wire your legs to it. That will hold you in place so you'll turn with the spit and roast nice and even.”

Even as she said it, hands lifted her legs and stretched them out along the spit. She felt the “little bar” against the back of her knees and the wire being wrapped around them, snugging them tightly and painfully to the spit and bar. More wire cinched her ankles to the spit. A moment later the unseen brush painted numbness into her knees and ankles. Once again she was pain free.

She felt the Matron doing something with her hair. Wrapping it into a bun and pinning it in place.

“Honey, they're gonna carry you down into the crowd, now, so everyone can get a good look at how beautiful you are and maybe run their hands over that silky young skin of yours before we baste it. So you just relax and enjoy yourself. If you feel yourself coming, you just go ahead and come! You've earned it. And don't you feel embarrassed about it, either. These are good folks and they like to see you having a good time. I'll bet my daughter had at least twenty orgasms while they were parading her around. I could see her humping that pole and dripping pussy juice the whole time. So you just go right to it, dear.”

Caitlyn felt the spit move and rolled her eyes up to see the meaty hand of a guard picking up the front end of the spit. The shaft had been cleaned of her blood and gleamed in the sun. She felt the Matron's hand give her bottom a friendly slap as the floor began moving beneath the spit. The motion of the spit immediately triggered shivery blasts of pleasure from her clit and vagina as the shaft teased the sensitive flesh. Yesterday's Caitlyn would have been horrified at the idea of having orgasms and dripping pussy juice in the midst of a crowd, but then yesterday's Caitlyn wore tiny strips of cloth to hide her now very public nipples and vulva. Yesterday' Caitlyn confined all her sexual activity to private rooms, but today she was meat on a skewer and had already delivered a spectacular public orgasm or two. So what did she care? What dignity was there left to preserve? She gave in to her body's demand and began a soft undulation on the spit that caused an instant explosion of pleasure! Then another. And another. The combined movement of the spit as the men carried it along and her own bodily squirming brought on a cascade of orgasms that blotted out all the embarrassment of yesterday's Caitlyn.

She thought about the porn movies her various boy friends had shown her to heat her up for their own ambitions. How could those actresses strip naked and fuck in front of a camera crew in a film that thousands would see, she had wondered? Now look at her. She heard a group of musicians playing guitars and rhythm instruments and singing. She heard laughter and loud chattering voices. The sounds made her come! She felt a sea of hands sliding over her body, competing for possession of her tits, fingering her labia, stroking her arms and legs, grasping her feet. She caught sight of little girls, their small hands patting her face and hair, brushing the tips of her nipples, looking adoringly into her eyes, dreaming of being in her place one day. Every touch made her body come harder, longer, sizzling her to the soul, flinging her into far galaxies of ecstacy. She wanted it to go on and on and on forever.

But it didn't.

It got better.

They had placed her spit on trestles again, but not up on stage. She was near the roasting pits. She could smell the aroma of roasting meat. A heavenly fragrance like grilled ribs. Slightly sweet. One or both of the other girls, no doubt, roasting whole in a timed sequence a little ahead of Caitlyn to spread out the availability of freshly cooked meat.

Multiple hands began massaging an oily substance into her skin. All of her, from her face to the soles of her feet and toes. Again waves of ecstatic pleasure swept through her, leaping to screaming peaks whenever a finger flicked across the tip of a nipple or touched the hair-trigger lips around her clit, or especially the clit itself. They turned her slowly as they worked in the buttery oil, making good natured remarks about the tremors racking her body and the delicate flavor of the juices she produced with each successive orgasm and which they collected in a drip pan and sipped. The fat head cook, whose hands were not covered with basting oil, periodically ran a middle finger between her vaginal wall and the spit to scoop out a taste for himself. When they had finished basting her, they wrapped the golden bun of her hair in aluminum foil and pinned it in place.

The Matron's face appeared next to hers. “It's time now for you to be cooked, dear. Now don't you be scared. That oil they rubbed into you will take care of the pain. I've been watching you and you've had some real good honkin' orgasms. The boys have been drinking up your juices while they've been feeling you all over and every one of them's in love with you. They gave me a taste, too. You can tell what a girl's gonna taste like by the quality of her pussy juice, and honey, you are A number one first class meat! These folks are in for a real treat tonight! That young girl Alissa who's already cooking, she's gonna be some tasty, too. But you're the best. And you're the feature attraction! So have fun and give ‘em a good show, dear. I gotta go now, so they can put you over the fire. They're on a strict schedule. Just relax, and let those big O's roll. Buh bye, sweetheart.”

She was gone.

Caitlyn saw that her spit was being lifted again. She was face down but could see not much more than the ground directly below her on either side of the thick shaft. Her body seemed curiously detached. Then she realized it was because she could barely feel the movement of the spit. Now she could see the roasting pit, a bracket on both ends to hold the spit. Now she was hovering over it, low flames licking the surface of red hot coals. The heat forced her to close her eyes. She felt something change and squinted to see what it was. She was rotating. Except for her eyes the fire didn't hurt at all, and if she closed her eyes while face down that wasn't too bad either. She felt terribly warm, hotter than she'd ever been in her life, but her skin was not searing as is should have been. Or at least she couldn't feel it, if it was.

The extreme heat did have an unexpected effect. It set off a tremendous sexual charge from her clit that brought on a monumental orgasm. The sensation drove every other thought out of her mind. She was only aware of the battering waves of ecstacy that electrified her from the roots of her hair to her toenails. Nothing else mattered! Nothing else came close to mattering. Nothing else even existed! Nothing!! Nothing!!!