Piggie Plumpkins at FemcanCon 2020
By morselman
Episode 5…
Plumpkins dangled helplessly from the BBQ cart's chain hoists, hooked to each end of the CBT chair holding him prisoner. His hands, feet and waist were still securely fastened to the chair’s framework, keeping Plumpkins just as helplessly trapped as when his genitals were methodically destroyed by the previous two femcans. The chair was ingeniously designed not only for genital torture, but also to facilitate the implacable and irresistible impaling of a desperately and frantically struggling victim onto the BBQ cart’s spit rod.
The security femcan, the fiendishly brilliant and highly skilled creator of both the BBQ cart and the CBT chair, was provided with complete and effortless control of her victim's position. She tilted him to horizontal and adjusted the dangling chair's height and angle relative to the cart's spit rod perfectly by minute adjustment of the chain hoists with the merest taps of her finger tips on a hand held remote control.
With a self-satisfied nod, the security femcan put the control down and proceeded to remove the hefty spit rod from it's mount. She carefully disassembled the meat forks from the shaft, setting them aside until needed. Walking behind him, she flipped down a hinged section of the seat bottom to expose Plumpkins helpless anus, as the watching crowd stirred with anticipation.
A mirror was mounted strategically on the forward end of the cart to provide the victim a full view of all the preparations occurring behind him. The security femcan noticed Plumpkins watching her activities in the mirror with a look of despair and dread on his quivering tear streaked face. She gave him a mischievous wink, and with a pleased smirk grasped the spit rod firmly. Then, hefting it like a javelin, placed it’s tip right up into his butt hole.
The crowd wildly cheered "SPIT HIM--SPIT HIM--SPIT HIM!!!"
"This is my very FAVORITE MOST PART piggie!!!" the security femcan said with relish. Putting all the weight and strength of her sturdy black body into the effort, she began to ever so slowly and ever so steadily thrust the rod into Plumpkins, twisting and turning it as she went. The femcans all the while continuing to chant "SPIT HIM--SPIT HIM--SPIT HIM!!!"
"NOOOOOOO--WHOOOAAAGGHHH--HOOOHOOOHOOOHOO--WAAAAAAGHH!!!" Plumpkins howled at the very top of his lungs! His entire body wildly gyrated and writhed helplessly against the unyielding bonds of the pitiless chair--his feet and hands flailed in their straps spasmodically like the wings of a wounded bird. And still the jubilant audience called out "SPIT HIM--SPIT HIM--SPIT HIM!!!"
"IN WE GO PIGGIE!!!" the security femcan gleefully declared as the rod reached the half way point. Deeper and deeper she relentlessly pushed, until the chair swung up high--straining hard against the chains. She huffed from effort amid her chuckles of cruel amusement.
Finally the spit began it's journey up his esophagus. At the critical point, the security femcan reached over and grabbed Plumpkins' hair to tilt his head to the proper angle. With a final thrust home she rammed the rod up and out his throat--finally silencing his screams! The crowd ecstatically danced about, high-fiving each other in utter delight--as if their favorite team had just won a championship!
The security femcan set her hands on her wide hips with smug satisfaction as sweat sheened the cleavage of her colossal breasts and the ebony cheeks of her voluminous buttocks, exposed by her assless skirt. "Now that's what I call a properly pegged piggie!" she announced, to the great amusement of all the gathered femcans.
After catching her breath, she picked up a u-shaped meat fork that was bent at right angles with a center hole for mounting and slid it onto the rod's aft end until both points touched Plumpkins' rump cheeks. With a grunted firm push she buried them deep into his flesh as he choked out a muffled yell. The femcan tightened the fork into position on the shaft just behind his anus with a set-screw. She repeated the action on the forward end of the rod, this time burying the points deep into his shoulders with the center hole of the fork secured on the shaft right in front of his mouth.
She then began to dismantle the imprisoning chair. First, the legs of the chair were unpinned and allowed to rotate back until Plumpkins' ankles were level with the aft section of the spit rod. A straight meat fork was slid onto the rod until it was positioned proximate to the ankles and secured. Each ankle was unstrapped from the chair leg in turn and forced by the femcan’s overwhelming strength against all of Plumpkin’s vain struggling onto the corresponding side of the meat fork until it's point projected through, holding the leg securely.
Similarly she secured his wrists by unpinning the seat arms and rotating them until they were level with the forward section of the rod and a straight meat fork slid into proper position and stuck through his wrists. The entire procedure using the chair was ingeniously contrived to make any and all resistance on the victim's part completely futile--the security femcan had done her design work extremely well.
With Plumpkins’ limbs thus ruthlessly secured, the femcan's next step was to retract the hoist arms, setting the spit rod back into position and re-installing it onto the cart’s drive mechanism. Finally she unhooked the hoist chains, and finished dismantling the chair by pulling the remaining pins that secured it together and cleared it’s sections from the spit rod.
Addressing the fascinated crowd, the security femcan took on the manner of an infomercial announcer. “Next step in this piggie’s preparation gonna be a thorough tenderisation. For this I’m puttin’ my cart into ‘whip-tisserie’ mode…”
She engaged the drive, setting the wretched Plumpkins rolling. From the side of the cart she selected a fearsomely enormous rattan cane, flailing it about in the air with terrifying whooshes to perfect her swing.
Taking a position alongside the cart, making sure that Plumpkins had an excellent view of her in the mirror, she cast him a sadistic smile and proceeded to vigorously apply her weapon to his hapless flesh.
Again and again the whistling cane struck her rotating victim’s exposed body--each impact point carefully selected for maximum effect as it rolled helplessly into range. The audience absolutely loved it--rowdily cheering as the security femcan energetically put the entirety of her formidable strength into each ferocious stroke! Plumpkins’ could only whimper in tearful woe.
After he was bruised purple from tip of his nose to end of his toes, the security femcan finally stopped and admired her handiwork. “Excellent!” she exclaimed. “Now I’m gonna apply the ‘Scorin’ Scourge’ in preparation for the bastin’ sauce!” She selected a monstrous “Cat o’ Nine Tails” with multiple metal spikes woven into the length of each strand from the side of the cart and said with an exultant chortling grin “I also made this myself piggie…”
“NOPH--NOPH--NOOOOOPH!!!” Plumpkins pleaded despite the rotating spit rod projecting from his mouth. The security femcan chuckled with great amusement and proceeded to thrash him with full high sweeps of her arm, putting all of her ample weight into it! Soon his skin was a crosshatch of bleeding red stripes--but the femcan wasn’t satisfied until every single inch of Plumpkins was oozing blood.
The security femcan then reached under the cart and brought out a pail of dark liquid with a long brush resting inside. She showed it to the crowd. “My ‘Secret Sauce’--featurin’ Ghost peppers, lime juice, onion, garlic and various other spices and seasonin’s in a salt brine.” They laughed uproariously and eagerly awaited Plumpkins’ reaction to it’s application.
She applied it with long strokes of the broad brush. Plumpkins’ eyes bulged in surprise--the sauce was absolutely excruciating as it seeped into his wounds! He writhed like a wounded snake on the spit rod in spite of the meat forks holding him fast! The femcans went wild, hooting and whistling as if watching a stripper! The security femcan cackled with glee “I just LOVE watchin’ a piggie ‘pole dancin’ on my spit rod!”
She then turned on the cart’s heating elements, one below his top half--from chest up, and one beneath his lower half--from his rump down. His belly was spared from being cooked to both prolong his life while being cooked and to prevent his offal from tainting his flavor. The red hot glow penetrated deep with a relentless and extremely painful heat that soon put the stinging of the sauce to shame. Plumpkins began to frantically struggle vainly in mindless panic like a wild animal caught in the jaws of a metal trap. His arms and legs wiggled uselessly against the meat forks securely pinning them.
The security femcan roared with laughter “Like I told you before--you ain’t goin’ NOWHERE piggie!”
She put her hands on her hips, leaned back with tears of merriment streaming down her cheeks and let out a hearty belly laugh. The audience rose from their seats and gave a standing ovation--absolutely ecstatic with the spectacle of seeing a suffering piggie struggling while being roasted alive!
Poor Plumpkins was completely astonished by the security femcan’s spectacular sadism. There seemed to be no limit to her mean streak towards piggies--and Plumpkins had somehow foolishly allowed himself to stumble helplessly into her heartlessly cruel clutches...
End of Episode 5...
