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Piggie Plumpkins encounters the Femcan Convent. Episode 15
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Piggie Plumpkins encounters the Femcan Convent. Episode 15

Piggie Plumpkins encounters the Femcan Convent.
Episode 15


Plumpkins’ plaintive blubbering and futile begging for mercy was interrupted only by his frantically screaming each time the satanic slicer swung down it’s singeing serrations--sawing sliver by sizzling sliver from his diminishing dong.

In contrast to his anguish , the convent’s entire sisterhood was ecstatic--swept up by religious rapture! They were transformed into a bevy of beatific beauties, all fervently reciting the refrain “Ave Saintress Severina…Ave Saintress Severina…Ave Saintress Severina…” an endlessly chanting queue of charmers, each awaiting her sacramental slice of Plumpkins.

But even for the devoted Daughters of Devourment, the profound pleasure produced by inflicting the Pendulectulum’s punishing penance upon Plumpkins couldn’t last forever… 

Finally, each congregation member had received her share of the sacrament, and Plumpkins no longer had any of his manhood left. The time had come when the pendulum blade must cease.

Per the most Holy Revelations of Saintress Severena, the penultimate Penectotine punishment of Plumpkins had been achieved--the time had now arrived at last for his succulent flesh to be devoured as final penance and earn him consummate salvation and his soul everlasting eternity within her Divine Dungeon!

“The Confessional Ceremony is completed!” Grand Inquisitrix Dominique declared with finality. She turned to The Head Sister Chef and said with satisfaction “Make all preparations for the Salvation Feast…”

All the alluring assemblage smacked their lips with epicurean anticipation and gave each other knowing smiles regarding the upcoming sumptuous repast as they filed out from the Inquisition Arena.
         
The Confessional Coven disentangled the disconsolate Plumpkins from the merciless clutches of the Penectotine and promptly remanded him into the kindly custody of the convent’s cook staff.

“Place Mr. Plumpkins into the Cookery Truss.” the Head Sister Chef happily instructed her minions.

They merrily peeled Plumpkins out of the punishment suit and zealously clamped the quivering naked meat of his body into the metal framework of the truss. It’s rigid bars held his limbs firmly in the position of being as if he were bent over crawling upon all fours.

The sturdier members of the culinary gang hefted the structure of the cooking contrivance onto their shoulders and ebulliently bustled him off to the awaiting Kitchenary. Plumpkins was ceaselessly pinched, poked and squeezed mercilessly as all of them marveled mouthwateringly at his tender juiciness…   

It took an special sort of sadist to be a member of the Daughters of Devourment kitchen crew. Not only did they possess all the ruthless cruelty of the Confessional Coven, but they also had a keen enthusiasm for transforming man flesh into tasty, fulsome, hearty meals and a gourmand’s exuberant passion for the consumption of same!

Upon arrival at the convent kitchen, the Cookery Truss imprisoning Plumpkins was hung at the center from a chain hoist trolley crane rolling along an extensive overhead track. It was complete with spurs leading to the separate cooking stations at each of the kitchen's extensive assortment of cruel culinary contraptions.

Meawhile, a cooking academy of novitiates, including all the bully girls, had eagerly filed in to closely observe the proceedings.

They were addressed by the Head Sister Chef. “It has long been a Daughters of Devourment tradition that every effort be made to keep a sinner alive during the entire cooking process and for as long as possible while he’s being devoured.” She gave the attendees a knowing smile. “This isn’t just for the entertainment value…”

A guffaw arose as the audience gave each other amused looks.

She continued “Saintress Severena, in her infinite wisdom, long ago determined that the more severe a sinner’s suffering, the more perfect his penance and sacred his salvation!”

The experienced nuns of the kitchen staff all sagely nodded their concurrence.

“And in fact…” the Head Sister Chef continued “our order of nuns has spent the past several centuries perfecting our procedures and techniques, until we can now claim with great pride--no sinner’s suffering has ever ended from his death occurring even one second before we permitted it!”

A great cheer arose from the gathering as Plumpkins dangled defenselessly above the savagely carnivorous congregation.

Plumpkins was then rolled by the gregarious galley gang over to hang above each cooking position, for a bird's eye view and a cheerfully provided complete description of it’s function. This was continued until the attending novitiates received a complete explanation of the entire cooking chamber of horrors. (As an added benefit, this also gave Plumpkins a sort of “refresher” course for his previous tour of the torture kitchen.) 

“And this is always the starting point for a successfully succulent salvation…” the Head Sister Chef had her minions halt Plumpkins over two narrow metal tubs of water at a roiling bubbling boil. “our Parboiling Trays.”                                                     

To be continued…
Fated to be Femcan fodder...

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