Next the girl’s ankles were strapped into place, a little further than shoulder-width apart. With one young woman standing behind the frame which, they noticed, had a cross-bar just below the level of the girl’s shoulders rather than across the end of the two side-bars to which her wrists were fixed, the young man who had been responsible for her oiling undid a clip on the side and, instead of folding forward like a conventional roasting frame, the frame folded backwards, bending the young girl back at the waist by almost ninety degrees.

“Wow she’s pretty flexible!” Samantha gave a low whistle. “Maybe that’s why she got picked to test this out?”

“I can curl my back to make a bridge!” Ella announced a little defensively, glancing over her shoulder as if contemplating proving her claim right then and there before wisely concluding that there was not enough room.

“So can I!” Samantha shrugged. “Or I could anyway, not tried in a while, but that is something else!”

“Hey, do you think they’d let me borrow that?” a man stood behind them asked his wife with a chuckle. “Could sort me right out!”

“Maybe,” she teased him in response, “or you may never walk properly again!”

“Speaking of never walking properly again…” Samantha whispered to her friends as the couple behind them laughed together. The young man now had hold of the spit and was lining it up with the opening which now presented itself. Still standing behind the frame, looking down now into the girl’s excited and nervous face, the young woman took hold of her hair and pulled her head back to provide a straight path for the spit, forcing the curl’s neck to curve almost as much as her spine and bringing the back of her head parallel to her rump.

With the woman keeping a strong grip on the girl’s hair and the other extremities still strapped securely in place, the man inserted the tip of the spit and began to push, gently rotating it as he did so in an attempt to make its through the young girl’s lovely young body smoother. The audience who had mostly been chattering quietly and laughing together as they enjoyed the show now fell silent, watching the shiny metal pole disappear deeper and deeper into beautiful young girl whose impressive body would soon be roasting for their entertainment and delectation. The young woman muttered some words of encouragement and stroked her face with her free hand as the girl began to splutter, small flecks of blood coming from her mouth and helping Samantha realise why the kitchen staff wore black, before the spit emerged from her mouth and the woman was able to let go of her hair, confident in the stiff pole’s ability to hold her head in place on its own.

“What about the stabilising rod?” Caroline asked to nobody in particular, noticing that unlike when a girl was bent forward whether over a bar, bench or frame, this girl’s secondary spit-hole was not so readily accessible.

“I don’t think they’ll be using one of those today!” Samantha remarked in awe and the young man picked up two U-shaped metal pieces from the cart beside him, one almost twice as wide as the other. With the girl still strapped in place and her head bench backwards, he lifted the lower half of the frame so that she was now laying flat on her back, supported primarily by the metal rod through her body which kept her from slumping between the cross-beams. Both implements, the ends of which were sharp like a kebab skewer, both had rings in the middle a little wider than the spit and a small thumb-key to look them in place. The man took the smaller one and fed it over the back of the spit then slid it up towards the girl but instead of the thinner rod that would normally be inserted into the spit-roaster’s anus, the prongs of this stabiliser were pushed deep into her meaty buttocks before being locked into position. The meat-girl squirmed and tried to moan as these thin but viscously sharp spikes were pushed in but the spit muffled the sound.

“Wow this really is different!” Caroline observed, watching wide-eyed as the man took the wider of the two implements round to the other end of the spit, taking some sort of cap out of his pocket which he put over the sharp end to avoid accidents. All three girls, as well as several of the other watchers and even the girl in the stew pot instinctively crossed their arms over their chests to cover their shoulders with their hands and the man pushed the second stabiliser on and forced the prongs through the skin of her shoulders into the boneless void either side of her neck. Somehow, the thought of having this done was far more cringe-inducing among the audience, provoking far more automatic sympathy than the idea of being impaled pussy to mouth by a thick metal spit! With the girl now fully stabilised, the man released her wrists and ankles and fixed them instead to the spit with the conventional cuffs the girls were used to seeing in spitting videos from Sidney’s.

“That was quite something, huh?” Samantha exclaimed as they watched the girl lifted off the frame, which was then wheeled away by other assistants, and locked into the spit mounts where she immediately began to turn over the artificial coals.

“Do you think it will catch on?” Caroline asked, sounding almost as if she had a vested interest. “Do you think they’re going to start doing them all like that?”

“Well I guess if Ella gets her way, you’ll find out!” Samantha teased before lining up with the rest of the audience to get their first portion of the roasted girls that were finally ready to share.


To be continued...