The walk to the oiling pit was surreal in a way. The closer to death she came, the more alive she felt. The air caressing her skin, especially her nipples and bare pussy was sensual. Walking barefoot on the grass was an experience. It was like her toes had never walked on grass so soft.
The hand belonging to the woman leading her by her arm was hot and felt like silk. Her brain was in overdrive, from the recent orgasms, the drink she had, those staring at her with hunger and lust and the heat she could feel from the short distance away. The girl over her pit was writhing, back and forth, short movements, back and forth, fucking herself. Her ass clenched around the anal post, her pussy stretched around the spit, the sight weas driving her mad.
She stopped in front of the oiling area and hands took her hair gently from behind, slathering her dark locks with a wet substance. Unlike her adventures the night before, whatever this was did not make her hair harden like she thought it would.
Her hair was folded into a bun on top of her head and the hair on the back of her neck rose as this new area was exposed to the breeze.
She stepped into the oily wooden bath, pleasantly surprised to find the wood she would lay on was exceptionally smooth and polished. The oil made it gleam. She held the hands of one of the attendants and gently sat down on the hard floor.
Before she leaned back, she met eyes with Dominguez. He wasn’t smirking, or playful, or boastful. He was the same as many men in the tribe, completely nude below the neck and his cock she had enjoyed the night before was engorged. The look he gave her nearly caused her to let.
He wanted her. He wanted her in a way no person had every wanted her. She had many who wanted to fuck her. He wanted more. He wanted everything. There was an understanding in that moment. Lara’s death would not be some fleeting thing to amuse an enemy. She would be loved.
She leaned back onto the warm wood and closed her eyes. Four, maybe five sets of hands began oiling her body. She spread her legs a bit to allow them access to her pussy, not that it needed any lubrication.
She smiled as they worked on her. One set of hands was rubbing her breasts firmly. The rubs were not sensual as much as functional. She wasn’t being seen as a sex object right now. She was seen as meat and prepared as such.
The thought drove her wild. When the first oily fingers entered her pussy she came violently, sliding around the wooden floor.
No cheers were heard, celebrating her arousal or display. She opened her eyes briefly, but the warm, soothing hands made her relax once again and focus only on the feeling.
Her muscles had never been worked like this. It was the deepest massage she had ever had, yet it did not hurt. When the rubbing stopped, she reached up quickly and grabbed her nipples that were painfully hard from her breasts being rubbed. She pinched them harshly, causing herself to hiss in pleasure.
A few chuckles were heard, and she opened her eyes to see the women kneeling over her, looks of humor and sympathy on their faces.
Lara took the unspoken command and rolled over, resting her head on her arms under her chin.
She moaned as her back was rubbed. Soft, slim fingers caressed her ass, and a few slipped inside, stretching her out and preparing her for her securing post.
She had a few smaller orgasms she managed to hold herself still through, instead letting the warmth flush her body as she strained, only to have hands uncoil her muscles again.
It felt like she had been there an eternity, yet it was not long enough.
She was helped to a standing position only to find her legs were weak. The women held onto her, and she relied on them, stepping out of the tub slowly. She was able to stand when her feet touched the grass but still felt weak. She hadn’t been spitted yet but was already helpless.
Herbs were sprinkled on her and patted into her body, but she didn’t notice. Her eye was on the bench and the spit that would soon become one with her, a ride into the next adventure.
A sudden moment of panic seized her when she began walking towards her doom. She stopped for a moment and took a few deep breaths, appreciating that the attendants let her.
Once she had composed herself, she looked at the spit with new resolve. It was calling for her. Her pussy ached for it. She walked much more quickly and knelt in front of the raised area of the bench, putting her thighs flush with the wood and spreading her legs as much as possible.
She shivered when straps tightened her shins to the floor and her thighs to the wood.
A soft hand on the small of her back encouraged her to bend down. She smiled and did as directed, giving a last wink to her colleague, rival and the man who knew her better than she knew herself.
She was pleased that he was stroking himself with no modesty, as were many of the men. Many of the women were touching themselves as well.
Lara’s breasts pushed down onto the polished platform. It was warm from its previous occupant. She felt the strap go over the small of her back, then one over her shoulders. Her arms were pulled behind her and tied together at her wrists and elbows.
A woman titled her head up and the Y frame was adjusted to keep her head in line. A strap kept her head in place, eyes forward, not an extremely comfortable position but one she would spend the rest of her life in no matter how short it would be.
Lara tried to look around. She knew intellectually it was impossible in her situation but the reality of it was shocking. She had been bound before but never like this.
All Lara could do was move her ass side to the side a bit and press it back an inch or so.
She had never been immobilized so completely in her life.
The idea was thrilling. Lara had always considered herself a free person. Now she understood what ultimate freedom truly was. Freedom was giving up all control. It was a shame it took her to this extreme to understand but she was grateful regardless.
She gasped when the cool tip of the spit touched her pussy and slid between her labia, brushing up against her clit.
An electric buzz ran through her body, but her sole point of focus was on the spot where metal met skin. It slowly intruded into her then stopped.
It retreated then entered again, deeper.
He slowly fucked her, and she clenched with everything she had, working around it, and welcoming her lover.
As she moaned louder, her body being overran by sensation, the spit went deeper and deeper, touching her cervix. Her clit was hard and on fire, driving her crazy.
“Do it!” Lara yelled.
She felt a pinch and shuddered as the spit flowed through her body. It didn’t hurt after the initial piercing. It was a strange, wonderful sensation. Somehow this wonderful chef was doing it, running her through while not causing her an extreme amount of pain. Her mind flashed to the first time she had sex, the feeling of being penetrated, but this was so much more.
The feeling was too strong. She was owned, she was meat, her destiny was truly out of her hands, and it felt so good. This was always her fate. An orgasm rocked her just as the spit entered her throat. She watched with wide eyes as it emerged from her mouth and kept emerging.
She panicked for a brief moment when she couldn’t breathe, but then those holes must have been lined up. She could breathe comfortably. She would not suffocate. Lara wanted this moment to stretch for eternity.
She stiffened when the anal post was inserted but once it was deep in her, she enjoyed the feeling. The pole in her pussy and the anal post were close and as she flexed; she felt each one as a different but enjoyable sensation.
Her legs were raised and tied with twine to the spit. The straps were released, and her arms were stretched and secured.
Then she was lifted. That was a new sensation in itself. The rocking and how every step her carriers made vibrated through her body.
Her jaw ached slightly and the metal on her tongue tasted a bit bitter but that was insignificant to everything else.
The heat hit her like an unexpected orgasm. Though she knew it was coming, being laid over the fire was blinding at first.
Yet she did not feel the need to scream. It wasn’t unbearable. She quickly became used to it and her body relaxed. She used her hands and ankles to rock her body back and forth on the spit, scratching the itch that wouldn’t seem to go away. Her entire focus was on her pussy. Her entire goal was to have as many orgasms as possible before she drifted off and became food.
She kept her movements going even when her world turned upside down as she began to rotate.
Lara wasn’t sure how long she lasted. She instinctively knew that her end was near. The next orgasm would kill her.
The drink she had been given never stopped working. She could feel how hot her body was but felt no pain. She smelt herself cooking. The fragrant oil and spices on her blocked out the smell of the coals. She was delicious. She smelt delicious.
She could no longer make out people. They were all fuzzy shapes, but she knew they were there. She knew they would enjoy her. Dominguez would enjoy her.
Her entire life she had searched for the ultimate high, searched for her meaning.
She had always been meant to be food.
The thought gave her one last orgasm and as the feeling left her body she succumbed to darkness.
The End