That’s what it was like – completely out of the blue. I was walking along, just taking a short walk home from the local convenience store, when out of nowhere, a man grabbed me. I was muffled, my arms were held tightly to me so I could barely struggle, and I could suddenly no longer see where we were going. Then I knew no more.
When I came to, there was a man before me. My arms were bound to my sides, my feet were bound together, and I was lying on a table completely naked. When I looked down, I could see I was hooked up to an IV drip of some kind. The man introduced himself as Rick. He was eyeing me speculatively, and he asked me my name.
“Tina,” I timidly replied.
“Tina,” he repeated slowly. “I’m about to prepare dinner, Tina. Tender breasts and thighs. I’m thinking I might prepare a rump roast as well. How do you feel about that?” He seemed eager for my response.
Hesitantly, I answered, “Well, I love chicken, but I don’t eat much red meat.”
“Ah. Well, fortunately, I do. You see,” and as he continued, he bound my mouth with a gag, “we’re not having chicken.” Then, to my horror, he lifted what appeared to be a medium sized bowl with a brush in it, and he began… oh God, that smell, I knew that smell!… he began basting me with a marinade! With the brush, he stroked my breasts, first one after another, and the scent of the tangy sweet dressing with which he basted me filled my nostrils, and it was almost enough to make me hungry. Then I recalled what dinner was going to be, and I tried to scream!
But Rick, he kept on brushing the marinade over my breasts. “My dear, do not fear, you will feel no pain,” he said, soothingly. “All will be well.” He then began circling my nipples with the soft yet prickly bristles in a way that first scared me, then I slowly began to find hypnotic, then rather stimulating. In my terror, I found a fascinating arousal in what he was doing, and I felt my nipples harden as he circled first one with his brush, then the other. Soon, he set the brush aside, and he began to use his hands to massage the marinade into my flesh. And I, having long ago stopped screaming, moaned in pleasure.
Rick’s eyes flew to me, and his eyes met mine in surprise, then he smiled. He proceeded to baste me with the marinade – I made a game of trying to guess the ingredients. It wasn’t a typical barbecue sauce, no, but there was a sweetness to it, something that made me feel its stickiness as it dribbled down my sides. When he flipped me over and began massaging my backside, he slipped a flinger into my pussy, and I believe he was shocked to feel me orgasm underneath his touch. Knowing that I was being prepared as a dish… somehow I’d lost my fear under his ministrations. And, maybe it was the hypnotic nature of his touch, perhaps the release from the orgasm, possibly something in the IV drip, but whatever it was, I once again lost consciousness….
Twelve hours later found me in bed, but Rick had set up a table so he might dine with me. Who would have thought, twenty-four hours prior, that I’d have been at a table with my captor, dining on my own tender breasts, served with a bit of my own young rump roast as well? Do I regret the loss of my body parts? Oh, Rick hasn’t taken them all, yet. And he’s right, I feel no pain, so long as I am hooked to my IV. He is delightful company. And he is a wonderful chef.