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Fiction / Piggie Plumpkins and the Femcan Coeds Episode 3
« Last post by morselman on January 18, 2021, 11:59:21 PM »
Piggie Plumpkins and the Femcan Coeds
By morselman

Episode 3…
At last an exhausted Plumpkins could muster only weary whimpers, miserable moans  and somber sobs--no matter how fiendishly the cruel coeds inflicted their torture implements upon him. Clearly, the floor show was over. The music muted and dancing declined.

But the merry Maenads were far from finished with Plumpkins. Many exchanged their musical instruments for ivy wreathed wooden clubs and pine cone topped thyrsus staffs. The bull head was yanked off him and his bonds were untied. Plumpkins slumped out of the chair into a pathetic heap.

The House Mother rolled him face up with a sandal clad foot and peered down into his tear reddened eyes. “Its time for the second act, piggie…” she said with a smirk. Turning to the gathered revelers she declared “Nothing tenderizes a longpig better than ‘The Death of Orpheus!’ eh ladies?”

One of the musicians tossed her lyre atop Plumpkins’ cowering form. The femcans then set upon Plumpkins with a raucous cheer, wielding their weapons with gusto! Hard wooden clubs struck shin, foot and forearm with loud cracks to leave aching black bruises. Thyrsus staffs whistled through the air like enormous riding crops to smite soft tissue, leaving stinging bright red welts.

The brutal onslaught roused Plumpkins from his stupor--but his frantic writhing and squirming were to no avail. These heartless harpies possessed highly superior athletic skills one and all--their aim was unerring, strength untiring and cruelty unrelenting!

Softball strengthened arms were swinging clubs and staffs to deliver precisely targeted blows. Soccer strengthened legs delivered crippling kicks and savage stomps at every opportunity. And all of it well choreographed so that no one’s malicious movements interfered with those of anyone else--a terrible
torrent of tormenting teamwork.               

The pummeling didn’t pause until Plumpkins was positively purple from nose to toes. Only then did the Sorority House Mother proclaim him properly prepared. “Now then, all that’s left is to allow his contusions to thoroughly swell up to their maximum throbbing tender tastiness!” She turned to the gathered crowd “And in the mean time…”

“The Festival of Lesbos!” the women all gleefully declared. Kline lounges, fluffy pillows, cushions and thick comforters were brought into the chamber and arranged around the barely conscious Plumpkins while the House Mother strummed a lyre and recited the poetry of Sappho.

All the coeds and Alumnae eagerly paired off and proceeded with a torrid lesbian orgy. They engaged in all manner of scissoring, tribading, cunnilingus, dildolatry and strap-onary. Their moans of orgasmic pleasure soon filled the air, ironically blending with Plumpkins’ agonized groaning and mewling misery.

Plumpkins took notice of the surrounding debauch, and despite his damaged condition, he became aroused. This caught the eye of the statuesque coed and she gave a wild howl of glee, pulling herself from the sorority sister she was scissoring to climb on top the startled Plumpkins. “Our piggie is feeling perky!”

But Plumpkins was in no shape to oblige--his genitals were a scorched and battered wreck! Far from deterring the coed, the mangled member made her evermore adamant that he participate. She grabbed and forced it inside, clamping down with all her strength--causing him to give an anguished yelp.

The pleading protestations from Plumpkins only encouraged the coed into vigorous gyrations, pulling and twisting evermore wildly as she crushed tighter and tighter with her powerful pussy. Her strong fingers dug into bruised shoulder flesh and her nails clawed at raw skin. She braced her robust thighs forcefully down onto his battered legs to gain leverage--tugging full strength on Plumpkins’ captive penis, harder and harder as if to tear it off! 

Plumpkins’ frantic bawling was matched by her maniacal laughter and taunts. All the commotion attracted the other sorority sisters, who left each others embrace to take up positions atop his limbs--their knees pressed deep into bruised hands, arms, calves and feet to pin him down. A debate then broke out about dibs on the next turn at rutting the helpless Plumpkins.     

The Alumnae were all greatly amused and gathered round to watch, nodding to each other indulgently. The House Mother said with a wry smile “Ah yes…few things are as much fun for young Maenads as having a final fling with their food--just before the feeding frenzy starts…”

General Discussion / Re: How do you want be cooked and by whom?
« Last post by piggymark on December 16, 2020, 06:34:14 PM »
Lead by a femcan to a chopping block  beheaded then spitroasted 
Fiction / Piggie Plumpkins and the Femcan Coeds Episode 2
« Last post by morselman on December 16, 2020, 03:11:26 AM »
Piggie Plumpkins and the Femcan Coeds
By morselman

Episode 2…

A nervous Plumpkins watched as countless sorority Alumnae arrived, filling the ever more crowded building. They ranged in age from recent college graduates at the very start of their careers, to mature and well established business women at the height of success. All were well groomed and attractive, with trim shapely builds that showed a continued adherence to the sorority’s strict culture of personal physical fitness.

But the sorority Alumnae’s admiration of fitness didn’t seem to apply toward piggies like Plumpkins. To the contrary, upon seeing his flabby, fat rolled nakedness they swooned as if he were Adonis himself! How they raved about the marshmallow tenderness of his feeble flesh and extolled the weakness of his puny muscles--no meat toughing strength in this piggie!

Helplessly strapped to the chair, the besieged Plumpkins endured with increasing concern and dismay being squeezed, grabbed and tweaked as if he were a fresh fruit being examined for ripeness. His despair rose as the salivating hostesses began zestfully testing his trembling fatness with excruciating nips and bites.

When some particularly fervent “inspectors” ruthlessly tested the mouthwatering texture of his nipples between their pitiless teeth, Plumpkins let out a yelping howl at the top of his lungs and struggled frantically against his bonds, producing startled laughter from the gathered femcans.

The Sorority House Mother nodded her head with satisfaction. “Quite a set of lungs on our young piggie--a perfect candidate for the Brazen Bull!”

The gathered femcans agreed with delight, and tittered with anticipation. The statuesque coed enthusiastically scampered off and returned with a cart laden with a sinister collection of devices. Atop them all was a large bronze helmet-mask fashioned as a bellowing bull’s head.     

She held it up before Plumpkins and displayed it proudly as she explained “This ingenious little toy is inspired by the legend of the Brazen Bull. In ancient Greece, there was a torture device fashioned from bronze in the shape of a bull. The victim was placed inside and a fire was lit below to heat it, roasting him alive. Air passages inside the bull’s head transformed the screams and cries of the victim into sounds that made it seem the bull was singing.”

Several coeds stepped forward to assist her as she forced it upon Plumpkins’ vigorously resisting head. They inserted a choking cluster of hard brass tubes inside his cheeks, scraping roughly against tongue and teeth. The tubes fed into chambers inside the helmet-mask’s snout porting through the nostrils and mouth. The hellish contraption was fastened securely with broad leather straps, to ride heavily upon his sagging shoulders. Eye slits allowed Plumpkins to see out, and allowed the crowd of snickering femcans to see in and savor his look of panicked alarm.         

The statuesque coed beamed at Plumpkins and continued her explanation “Of course, fire ordinances prevent us from having any such blazes indoors--so we have to do a bit of improvising…” She gave him a mischievous wink and produced an electric hair curling wand and hair straightening flat iron set from the cart. “Fortunately, the task of maintaining our classical hair styles provides us with just what’s needed!”

A hair straightening iron resembling a large pair of tongs was displayed before him. The coed powered it up and plucked out one of her hairs. She touched it to the heated surfaces, producing wisps of smoke from the strand. “This is full hot--400 degrees Fahrenheit!” She pursed her lips, tisking with mock concern. “That would cause a third degree burn, much much too hot for now.” She dialed the temperature down. “I think a first degree burn will be quite sufficient for starters…”

Plumpkins burst out with bloodcurdling howls and screams as the smirking femcan ruthlessly clamped the wicked device down hard onto the glans of his penis, squishing her hypersensitive target flat with a sizzle!

The brazen helmet-mask transformed his anguished cries into melodious bellows, producing a roar of approval from the group. It took a full five minutes for their hoots and laughter to die down.

“Excellent timbre!” the Sorority House Mother exclaimed. “Gather your instruments, ladies--let’s provide some musical accompaniment to our singing bull’s performance!”

The sorority sisters quickly produced a collection of lyres, lutes, pan flutes, twin piped aulos, castanets, frame drums and tambourines. Soon a soothing tune floated in the air, tenderly blending with Plumpkins’ wails of agony as they delicately danced about him with artful whirls and flourishes.

Those femcans tending directly to Plumpkins were quite expert at applying the hot curling irons to his most sensitive of places--a thin 3/8” barreled one slid perfectly into the urethra, and a thicker 1 3/4” barreled one fit nicely up the anus. The various sizes of tong-like straightening irons were each well suited for clamping upon nipples and testicles, in addition to the shaft and glans of the penis.

The temperature settings of the irons were ever-so-slowly, ever-so-incrementally, ever-so-inexorably increased between each application by the implacable tormentresses--a technique to ensure gradually inflicting the absolute maximum escalation of suffering possible.

Plumpkins’ frantic gyrations and futile struggles soon caught the attention of the frolicking musicians, who found them to be an inspiration that equaled his outcries--they soon began mimicking and mocking him with new emulative dance moves.   

The mood of the celebrants had grown quite sprightly from enthusiastic imbibing of a potent Greek wine served in twin handled kantharos and kylix drinking cups. The House Mother was pouring liberally from an ornate amphora. With a sly wink, she told the attendees “Nothing whets a Maenad’s appetite quite like some refreshing wine…”
Photoshop / South Pacific Barbecue ....
« Last post by ozarkdude on December 15, 2020, 12:54:37 PM »
A typical longpig barbecue at the island of Vanuatu ....!!
Photoshop / Midnight Cookout
« Last post by ozarkdude on December 06, 2020, 09:41:37 PM »
 Cooking some delicious meat tonight !
Photoshop / The Femcan Society
« Last post by ozarkdude on November 25, 2020, 04:10:46 PM »
Every Sunday the Femcan Society of America meets and celebrate with a roasted longpig ..!!
uhmm looks delicious and succulent !
Photoshop / Longpig for lunch....!
« Last post by ozarkdude on November 22, 2020, 03:08:42 AM »
South Pacific cannibals roasting a longpig for lunch !
Photoshop / Tarzan and Jane
« Last post by ozarkdude on November 12, 2020, 01:33:17 AM »
Apparently Jane ignored the fact that Tarzan is a cannibal...!
Photoshop / Succulent Dinner
« Last post by ozarkdude on November 10, 2020, 10:44:40 PM »
Cannibals in the deep jungles of Africa having a delicious and succulent longpig for dinner tonight !
Bon appetit !
Photoshop / Longpig for Dinner
« Last post by ozarkdude on November 07, 2020, 07:45:12 AM »
Cannibals in the deep jungles of Africa just captured a longpig for dinner !!
uhmmm looks succulent and delicious !

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