“Time to get you roasting, Mr Piggy!” Mollie grinned as she and Lydia approached the pole where Carl was tied. “Looking forward to it?”

“Damn straight!” Carl grinned as they untied his arms, instinctively stretching them out and flexing his fingers to restore the blood-flow, temporarily at least. “Watching Selena… well, if I wasn’t in a good mood before!”

“Glad to hear it!” Mollie laughed. “Several of the ladies have already asked if they can take a turn at basting you so I don’t think you’re going to be short of attention!”

“How long before I’m, you know, ready to serve?” asked Carl, shaking his newly-freed feet and allowing his hands to be tied behind his back again but with damp cooking twine this time rather than a modern cable-tie.

“About three hours.” Mollie explained. “We’ll get you cooking, then we’re all going to get in the pot for an hour, then it will be time to serve Lydia up and by the time she’s finished, you and the stew should be ready to eat!”

“Sounds perfect!” Carl smiled, happy to see that quite a few of the guests had noticed what was going on and were starting to gather by the roasting pit and wooden spitting bench. “You know,” he turned to Lydia, “I’ve got a lot of respect for you! What you’re doing is pretty hard-core!”

“It’s not gonna be the most comfortable experience of my life!” the pretty blonde admitted. “But then I don’t think you’re about to have your most relaxing experience either! And at least this way I get to watch people enjoying my meat and get to see what everyone chooses!”

“Good point!” Carl chuckled. Once again, Mrs O’Sullivan and her immediate family were front and centre of the audience while now included virtually all the guests with the exception of some of the boys who had decided that continuing to whip Selena, whose body was now criss-crossed all over with raised pink lines and even bleeding a little across her belly and thighs, was more fun. Given that she kept begging them not to stop, it was a fair assumption that she agreed!

Guided by the two women, since with was difficult with his hands tied behind his back, Carl lowered himself onto the spitting bench. His skewered manhood felt squashed under his own weight and he felt the metal hook that pierced his belly-button did into him but it was uncomfortable rather than painful. Tolerable at least. While the roasting pit and its supports had a rustic look, the spit itself was still steel. Single-use wooden spits did exist and usually at the end of the meal, what remained of the skewered carcass would be placed upright in the middle of a small bonfire and burned but these required more specialist skill to use and could not, by their nature, be as sharp as the steel or carbon alternatives so SB catering tended to stick to the tried and tested steel option.

Once in position, Carl was strapped down with his chin in a cup to keep his head facing forwards and his legs wide apart to give access to his single spit-hole. The spit itself, of course, was very well oiled but, to make things easier both for herself and for Carl, Mollie scooped some soft butter with her fingers and massaged it into and around his anus. Once he was as prepared as he could be, Doug handed her the spit and, with the gathered audience watching and calling out words of support and encouragement, many of them filming, she inserted the tip and began to push.

There was no doubt that spitting a man was harder than spitting a girl. Girls had the advantage of a primary spit-hole that was at least designed as an entrance. In fact, Mollie had met plenty of younger girls who did not realise that their vaginas had any other purpose and thought the fact that it felt nice to touch them and slip things inside was just nature’s way of making spitting more enjoyable! In fact, “spit-hole” was such a common euphemism that it had become pretty much the standard non-scientific term. Boys have willies, girls have spit-holes! Still, less than ideal as it was, boys and men did have a hole that a spit could be forced through and Carl’s seemed more willing than some to accept the sharp steel intruder.

“I’d warn you about the point of no return,” Mollie teased lightly as seven or eight inches of the spit disappeared within him, “but in your case we passed that a few hours ago!”

“Yup! My fate was sealed when you put a stick through my hot-dog!” Carl managed to grin despite the discomfort. “And these people here look like they’re hungry for boy-meat so just keep doing what you gotta do!” Spitting a man or boy did not have the same clear stages as with a girl but still Mollie felt it start to move more easily once it was well into his body cavity, pushing organs aside rather than having to break its way through, until it reached the back of his throat.

“This is it!” Mollie declared, feeling the resistance increase again as the tip of the spit reached the back of Carl’s throat and its presence was confirmed by his involuntary cough. “Cameras at the ready! Here we go!” She increased the pressure and pushed hard, feeling his throat give way and, seconds later, the spit erupted out between his teeth, to the obvious delight of the cheering and applauding audience! Now all the remained was to secure him to the spit. Mollie fitted the T-bar between his elbows and locked it to the spit but, since he was heavier than Timmy, she did not want to rely on that alone to keep him turning with the spit so took two U-shaped securing forks and slid them onto either end of the spit. The sharp tips of the prongs pierced the flesh either side of his neck, pushing into the space between his shoulder-blades and collar-bone while the one at the back deeply pierced his muscular buttocks. “There!” Mollie declared, giving him a playful slap on the backside. “Now there’s no way you’ll slip around on the spit!” To keep up with the rustic aesthetic, she used more of the cooking twine to secure Carl’s ankles to the spit, once she had pulled off his boots and socks of course, then removed his hat and monocle which he had managed to keep in through the whole spitting process and which she promised to put back on when he was ready to serve, and finally Carl was ready to go over the coals!

To be continued...