It had been a very bad winter. It had been freezing down in the village, and there was no fruit or fresh vegetables of any kind left. All they had was salted meats and tubers, a state of affairs that left Samantha, not accustomed to not getting her own way, very frustrated.
The manor house, up on its lonesome hill, was a perpetual temptation to the people in the town below.
The wealthy owners had gone south for the winter, migrating like the birds, and so the place was empty- except for the notoriously brutal servants, who didn’t take well to intrusions.
Samantha, however, wasn’t inclined to acquiesce to the same conditions her neighbors were, and one evening when the food was particularly loathsome at home she decided to set out and get what she deserved. Putting on her shabby work dress and taking a little metal crowbar she had stolen from the general store with just this adventure in mind, she prepared to break and enter.
She crossed the fence without difficulty, her lithe frame making easy work of the low ornamental wall at the edge of the property. A higher one, around the courtyard, presented some difficulty- but she managed to wriggle over it, at the cost of a few buttons off her dress.
Hopping the wall, she skittered across the lawn- wet but not snowy in these latter days of winter- and towards the golden glowing lights of the manor house. It looked so warm and inviting- this house had electric lights that worked even when the ground was wet, a luxury that Samantha often dreamed of. Her favorite daydream was endless fantasies about rich men coming and taking her away from her boring life in the countryside… and what they would make her do for the privilege of escape. She thrilled a little at the thought, and then angrily shoved her libido aside- she had to focus now.
There was a dark window just below ground level. Perfect, she thought, the scullery. She could hear voices in the dining room, but no one seemed to be in the pantry or in the kitchen.
The window wasn’t hard to jimmy. It wasn’t even properly locked, she discovered, the pin hopping easily free of its seating when she tapped it with the iron. She slipped the heavy pane up and then slipped silkily into the midnight-dark scullery.
It was everything she wanted. Hanging from the long copper ceiling rails were racks and racks of delicious spices- she breathed in deep the exotic scents. In the corner were bushel baskets of potatoes, peppers, celery, and carrots. And she was sure in those huge cupboards that lined the walls, she would find enough delicious bread- likely fresh-made by the live-in chef- and maybe even, treat of treats, chocolate.
She strode down the kitchen aisle, proud of her own daring. She had shown them- shown them all- that she, Samantha, wouldn’t put up with being mistreated. She reached into the basket where the fresh carrots waited and picked one out, lifted it to her mouth, and took a delicious, sensuous bite of the deliciously ripe vegetable.
She took two more steps, mentally preparing herself to steal the place blind, before something came up behind her and grabbed her.
“Thought you’d come in here and rob us blind, hmm?” A voice snarled in her ear. She saw a quick flash and felt cold metal against her throat, pressing up against her jugular, threatening her very life.
She thought she would wet herself. Instead she cleared her throat and said, in a hoarse gasp, “Please, sir…” She didn’t know what to say from there.
The figure behind her moved in closer. “A woman, hmm? Well, this isn’t a storefront, thieving slut. Shouldn’t you be at home with your brats on your tits?”
“No- please- I’m unmarried. I’m very young! I didn’t think-”
“You’re right you didn’t think!” The knife moved away from her throat. “Let’s get a look at you…”
A light switch flicked, and suddenly golden light flooded the room. Samantha was suddenly, keenly aware of how much trouble she was in.
The young man who’d caught her was lanky and tall, and his blue eyes devoured her slim figure with the appetite of one who has spent all winter in close quarters with a bunch of other men.
“Please…” she whispered, hoping he’d let her go, “I was hungry.”
“Hungry!” He grabbed the front of her dress and pulled it. The fabric held for a moment, then tore, revealing her pale nakedness for the whole world to see. She screamed, but he covered her mouth again, and using his free hand he pulled her bra off and cut her panties right off her trembling hips. “You don’t look hungry to me! You look just fine…” He leered, staring at her exposed body.
“Please stop! Don’t hurt me!” She tried casting herself on his mercy. It was a bad plan.
“Me? Hurt you? Never!” He acted the part, offended and upset. “Here.” He handed her the carrot she had been eating.
“How hungry were you?” He seemed genuinely concerned.
She must have charmed him with her body, she thought. Inside, she exulted. “So, so hungry… never anything worth eating, down in that village.”
“I bet…” He was still behind her, and now his hands were roaming, just a bit. “Well, are you still hungry?”
She couldn’t believe her luck. Was he going to cook for her? “Yes, very!”
He gently took the carrot from her hand. “Are you hungry enough to try eating the other way around?”
Suddenly she felt the blunt tip of the carrot probing someplace very naughty indeed. She jumped up into the air, trying to escape, but when she came down, she found him holding it there. The smooth vegetable slid slickly into her ass, and she was too horrified by the suddenness of his betrayal to even cry out.
He sensed her paralysis and took advantage. Grabbing her hair with his free hand, holding the carrot in her ass with the other, he dragged her out of the pantry, through the kitchen, and- horror of horrors- into the main dining room.
“Look what I found, everybody!’ He shouted as they entered, eliciting a howl of horror from Samantha. The room had probably five or ten young men, all clearly having just eaten, bored and probably a little drunk on cheap liquor from the town’s general store.
She was instantly the focus of all their attention.
“Bring out the large serving tray, won’t you, Emil?” His voice was silky smooth.
“Right away, sir!” said the youngest of the men, staring worshipfully at Samantha’s naked body. Her captor had to snap his fingers at him to get him going.
He returned and set the huge tray- big enough for a whole pig- on the table.
“Up you get!” her captor shouted, shoving- in a very uncomfortable way- Samantha onto the tray. “Still hungry? How about-” he reached into a serving bowl- “an apple?”
He pressed it into her mouth. She tried to cry out, now, at last, freed from the paralyzing horror of a few minutes before- but it was too late.
“What do you think, gents? A little undercooked?” He said, gesturing to her ass. “Well, I think I can give it a little- heat-” and with that he spanked her, his bare hand striking her ass, make her cry out into the apple and shaking the carrot within her in wonderful, horrible ways. Her whole body cried out with the shame of it… but she couldn’t stop pushing her ass up, presenting herself like a whore or a dog for the punishment.
He spanked her, and spanked her, and spanked her, till her ass was red as the apple in her mouth and until the carrot was a teasing penetration driving her mad.
Suddenly the punishment stopped.
“Wait! I think we’re forgotten something…”
A large man in the corner said, “I think the little dish needs some stuffing…”
Her captor grinned. “Just what I was thinking…”
He pulled his pants down, revealing a huge, pink, erect cock. Not the first Samantha had seen- but now, utterly terrifying, with no way to escape it.
“Stuffing it is…” He positioned himself behind her, lining his cock up with her poor virginal passage. She squealed and writhed as she felt the thick pulsing tip of his dick prodding her virgin cunt. He sighed and then pushed, pushed, pushed, and she felt herself opening up, felt the skin of her rosebud tighten around the carrot as he began to enter her. He reached around her and did something magic with the pink bud of her clit, and she cried out into the apple.
“God, she’s tight,” he gasped, as the audience cheered. “Must’ve been a virgin,” suggested one of the other men. He didn’t answer, just kept pushing- she felt his cock like a battering ram, reaching places inside her she had never felt before, even those few times late at night when she would open herself with her fingers, curiously probing the tight pink tunnel of her sex- even those few fumbling experiments with the boys around the parish. The feeling was too big to hold inside of her- pleasure and pain mixed and multiplied, the harsh feeling accompanied by waves of intense sexual heat emanating from her violated cunt.
He began to thrust rhythmically in and out of her. Curiously, the taste of the apple began to overwhelm her as it muffled her screams and cries and then, eventually, moans. She knew she would never eat one again without remembering this night.
He continued to thrust, faster and faster. His hand teased her clit wildly, driving her closer and closer to some kind of peak. She could feel her asshole tightening and clenching around the carrot, building and building-
Then suddenly he stopped, pulled out, and began to move away. She cried out into the apple. He slapped her ass, gently this time, and said, “hush, little dinner. It’s time for the rest of the preparation.”
She began to struggle but one of the other men grabbed her and, taking some twine from the pantry, tied her hands together between her legs, then tied her legs to the ornamental ribbing on each side of the tray. Now she couldn’t move even if she wanted to.
She finally managed to spit out the apple. “You bastards! Let me go!”
He called from the side room he had entered. “Find something to put in her mouth.”
She had a sudden premonition as to what he meant but before she could close her mouth, another of the men grabbed her by the hair and yanked her up. “She’s got good lips,” he said, undoing his fly. “I bet she takes to sucking cock like a duck to water. At least she better,” he growled, pulling out his full engorged purple cock. She looked at it in shock for a second, and then he shoved her face down onto it. He slipped into her mouth, filling her throat until she thought she would gag, and then pulled her hair back. He settled into a steady rhythm, fucking her mouth, controlling her movements with his brutal yanks on her hair. She moaned around his thick cock, humiliated beyond her ability to believe.
Finally, he began to gasp and twitch, and finally shot his hot sticky load into her mouth. Before she could spit it out, however, he grabbed the apple and shoved it back in her mouth. “Swallow, bitch,” he said, wiping the head of his cock against her cheek, leaving a thin trail of cum. She choked down his load, thick and warm and quite expansive- it had obviously been awhile.
Then suddenly she felt a totally alien cooling sensation on her raised ass and pussy, and then heard the unmistakable sound of a razor being sharpened. She screamed into the apple. The first man reached around and took it out of her mouth. “Yes?”
“What are you doing?!”
Suddenly she felt the cool edge of the razor against her labia. “Plucking you. This bird needs to be prepared for her roasting…”
She moaned. “Please don’t, please don’t, I won’t tell anyone what you did if you let me go right now. Please, I won’t tell anybody, you can trust me.”
SMACK! His right hand connected with her ass with shocking force. “Will you shut up and be an obedient slut, or do I have to get you another lolly to suck on?”
One of the men laughed and crudely gestured to his cock. She didn’t want that again, so she muttered, “I’ll be good.”
SMACK! “What will you be?”
“Ow! I’ll be good!”
SMACK! “NO! What will you be?” SMACK!
“OW! I’ll be an obedient slut!”
SMACK! “Good girl.”
He began to slowly shave her, cleaning her of all the fine red hair that around her pussy and asshole, carefully cleaning her utterly. He never scraped or nicked her fragile flesh, keeping her perfectly intact for the mealtime to come. No one had ever paid so thorough or talented attention to her hindquarters before, and she found herself shuddering with pleasure at every masterful pass of the razor.
When he was done, all that was left was a little ruddy triangle that pointed straight to her clit and the divide between her now almost dripping-wet lips. She was now just like the whores she had seen in those books of dirty postcards the preacher had once left in the confessional, just like the painted sluts that the bible had warned against… and the cool air against her sex was driving her wild.
She pushed her ass back and up. Now that her lower lips had had a taste of his cock, she wanted more.
He ground against her for a while, then pulled away. “Time to season you.”
“Nooo!” She pleaded, rocking back and forth on her tray.
“Hush,” he said. Then turning to another man: “Emil, fill her mouth.”
“NO-” but it was too late. Another man, tall and slender, had taken his place by her face. His cock was small and flaccid, and he was obviously drunk- the perfume he had put on after his recent shower couldn’t cover up the smell of whiskey. He tried fumblingly to put his limp cock into her now-receptive mouth (she knew by now that obedience was her best friend), but could do it. The other men jeered and laughed at him, until he cursed and said, “If the bitch can’t get me hard, by god, I’ll give her something else to work with.” Turning around and spreading his buttocks, he pointed to his rosebud. “Kiss, slut, or I’ll think of something worse.”
Horrified, she tried to pull back. This was the worst she could think of- until suddenly, she felt a slight pop and something slipped into her asshole. It was smooth and organic, and it burned and tormented her like fire, knocking open all the doors in her libido. She struggled and writhed, trying to somehow get it out of her, but to no avail.
“Feel that?” The first man whispered. “That’s ginger. I bet it feels crazy, hmm? Emil uses it sometimes when he can’t get it up to jack off, but I think your sweet tongue…” He slipped a finger, slick with oil, into her damp and newly shaven pussy- “can do better than this silly old root, don’t you?” His thumb made a single practiced pass over her clit- it felt amazing, until the corresponding contraction in her ass made the burning fever the ginger had brought on in her a dozen times worse.
She cautiously extended her tongue and flicked it gently against Emil’s ass. He gasped in pleasure and began to jerk himself off, feverishly. The first man gently pushed her forward with his fingers in her pussy until her mouth was pressed against him and she licked, kissed, and teased his rosebud unmercifully, knowing that her best chance to get this over quickly was to get him off quickly.
He began to gasp and jerk, and she could feel his prostate contracting as he gaspingly began to come. She smirked inwardly at her own ability while he moaned, and she could hear his come splattering into a little bowl set up on the table for the purpose.
She began to feel cool hands moving slickly over her thighs and upper legs, towards her buttocks. The first man had begun massaging olive oil into her skin, paying equal attention to her every inch, slathering her exposed body with the slick oil. He started with her pussy, rubbing it into her labia gently and pausing only briefly to tease her clit, then massaging her opening tenderly with first one, then two, then three- three!- probing fingers, opening her completely. He had warmed the oil to something like blood temperature and the pleasurable warmth in her deep places- she could feel the slick stuff all the way to the entrance of her womb- was drawing out of her a lust she had never thought even possible. He gently kissed her rosebud, then slowly removed the ginger plug- drawing a gasp of reluctant relief from her tormented body- and began to work the oil into her ass, inside and out, thoroughly coating her rear entrance with the sweet-smelling ointment until she felt so thoroughly open that she would submit to anything, any pleasure, no matter how depraved.
And now she was submitting. She thrust her hips, her pouty labia and her spread pink ass towards him, the first man, the ringleader, begging, daring, demanding that he take her helpless cunt and fuck her until she couldn’t bear it anymore. She wanted him inside her, wanted him to take her, wanted to feel his hot cum spill into her depths. She had never seen this side of herself before- but now it was out, and it wanted to be fed.
Cruelly, he replaced the ginger plug with a much larger rubber one, stretching her asshole almost to the point of pain. Then he began to massage the oil down her stomach and into her breasts. He had taking off his shirt to keep from getting oil on it and she could feel his hard chest and stomach gently sliding along her lubricated back. She moved as much as she could, grinding her exposed pussy against him, trying to get a reaction. She could feel his rock-hard cock through his pants, bumping up against her, she even fantasized that she could feel a drop of wet fluid at its tip.
His masterful hands kneaded the flesh of her breasts, turning it and teasing it and working the oil into every inch of her pale perfect skin, turning it ever so slightly golden and shimmery. She really did look every inch a roast, she thought.
Al of a sudden someone placed a dish in front of her, half full of an uncomfortably familiar white substance. “Cream for the cat,” a voice said, full of laughter.
She found her voice. “No! That’s disgusting!”
Emil carelessly grabbed her head and forced down towards it. “Either lap it up, every drop, or I’ll mop it up with your hair. Sluts like you should know what to do with cum.”
The first man slapped her ass from behind. “And you are a slut, aren’t you?”
She knew better than to complain. “Yes sir, I am a slut.”
She knew right away she’d done the wrong thing. “Shouldn’t your mouth be full of something, slut?”
She quickly lowered her face and began lapping up the thick salty cum. But suddenly a searing pain across her ass made her cry out. She looked back to see the first man holding a riding crop, of the very best Spanish leather, and grinning wickedly. “Gotta heat up our supper,” he said, and then sent the strap hissing savagely through the air to crack against her exposed right buttock agonizingly.
She gulped the cum- CRACK- as quickly as she could- CRACK- getting it on her cheeks, chin,- CRACK- all over her lips and nose,- CRACK- humiliating herself utterly -CRACK- to speed things along- CRACK- that agonizing rod came down and- CRACK- punished her insolence again.
“Do I have to start on your pussy now?” The first man threatened, tapping the tongue of the crop against her freshly shaven mound.
“Nooo!!!” she howled, almost in tears.
“She finished it all, boss. She really did. Gulped it like a pro.”
She heard the crop clatter to the floor. “Well good then.”
Then she heard a belt buckle fall. “Looks like it’s time for dinner, then…”
She felt him slip the plug out of her ass, then felt his thick, hard, familiar cock sliding deep into her pussy. A virgin only hours before and she was impaled again on his thick shaft, but as she opened her mouth to cry out at the intensity of the pleasure and pain she found another cock already inside it, prodding the back of her throat, demanding she pleasure its owner. Desperately she taught herself to deepthroat, swallowing the long but slender cock, taking it as deep as she could to leave herself a little room to breathe. Meanwhile she could feel the ringleader slowly, with each thrust, working himself into her cunt, her tight walls gripping him as he slowly filled her deeper and deeper, her own naturally juices mingling with the thick coating of olive oil he had given her to make his penetration an easy, slick pleasure instead of the piercing ordeal it had been earlier. She moaned around the cock in her mouth and ground back against him, and in exchange he growled low, placing his hands on her hips and beginning a slow steady rhythm that on each stroke sent his balls slapping against her clit and drove her steadily wilder.
She became aware that all the other men were stroking their cocks as they watched her, the centerpiece, being devoured by the voracious sexual appetite of the men on either side of her. She found a rhythm- rocking back against the cock in her pussy when the man in her mouth moved forward, then reversing the motion to keep from being speared too deep. She had never even imagined there could be depravity like this, two cocks pumping in and out of her body, her slutty self being pumped full of stranger’s dicks, taking it all…
The man behind her pulled out. She moaned in disappointment, until she felt his slick cockhead being pressed against the last virginity they had so far left her. “You feel that, whore? I’m going to take your ass cherry. I’m going to fuck your sweet rosebud until I come in you, and he’s gonna come in your throat, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” She cried out around the cock in her mouth, earning her hair a savage yank, but there was nothing she could do- between his tender ministrations earlier, and her own traitor pussy which had slicked his cock so well, when he spread her buttocks and began to push against her tight pink lubricated asshole there was she could do nothing to stop him.
The pressure of his dick opened her slowly, and though she tried to flee it he began to slowly fill her back entrance. He moaned repeatedly in overwhelming pleasure, caressing her hips now where he had been jerking them earlier, reach one hand down to idle diddle her clit. That same terrible feedback cycle- his torturous teasing of her clit made her rear passage tighten, and then the incredible feedback from that made her clit more sensitive. He was so in tune with her body that after a few strokes of his cock in her ass his fingers on her clit were light as a feather, but each one set off a shockwave in her body that amplified and fed on itself over and over again. The man in her mouth was almost forgotten as her whole body focused on the unholy penetration, the filthy indulgence she had never thought to fall prey to except in her wildest fantasies.
The man in her mouth began to cry out and thrust harder, precum filling her mouth with a salty-sweet flavor of hot cum. The first man was getting very close too- he had leaned down and she could feel his hot breath on her back, smelling like the oil he had coated her in, and his relentless penetration had slowed to an occasional twitch as he enjoyed her own internal throbbing.
Finally, nearly simultaneously, they came, filling her mouth and ass with hot seed. They paused for a moment, then pulled out, leaving her open and exhausted, gasping for breath, still unsatisfied and furious.
The first man pulled a knife and rapidly cut her bonds, then turned her over so she was on her back.. “Run now, if you can!” He said, laughing at her utter exhaustion, the weakness that had overcome her.
Much as she wanted to, she couldn’t move, even as the other men closed in, still masturbating. One by one they shot their loads on her- across her breasts, over her stomach, one on her feet for no reason she could figure out, across her face and cheeks… she was bathed in it. She closed her eyes and shuddered in horror- and something else- until it was over.
The men left. The room darkened. She was left alone with her shame.
Not much later, as she fitfully dozed, she felt a coarse rubbing on her body. When she opened her eyes she could see the form of the first man, still naked. He was rubbing a wet handkerchief over her body, cleaning the sticky dried cum from her skin methodically and evenly, making her clean again.
She tried to say something but he put a finger to his lips, then to hers.
When she was finally, totally clean, he lifted her and carried her to the master bedroom and laid her down on the sumptuous blankets. Putting her horizontally on the bed with her legs at the edge, he knelt before her pussy.
“Funny, you know, after all that work-” he kissed her aching clit, drawing an inadvertent moan from her- “It ends up being dinner for one.”
He began to make slow love to her with his tongue, running it all the way from her soaked rosebud to her clit, kissing her thighs, teasing her endlessly, his tongue a light and flickering presence that drove her endlessly wild over and over again. Finally, slipping a finger gently into her tender rosebud, he let her rise up and up- her voice rising like an opera singer’s- until she cried out and came, and came, and came, every event of that night culminating in a pinnacle of pleasure that drew her to the edge of her ability to feel.
The next morning they rose early, before the rest of the lazy men stirred to wakefulness, and he walked her to the gate. He gave her a kiss on the lips- the only one she had gotten in this whole ordeal, she realized suddenly, with a certain horror- and wrapped her in a beautiful blanket to replace her ruined dress and underclothes.
Then he slapped her on the ass and sent her on her way. She walked a little in the slush, and then remembering what she had come for, she turned and shouted, “Don’t I even get a little food, you bastard?”
The door opened. He tossed something out, winked, and slammed the door again.
She looked down. It was a carrot.