Ahead, on one side of the path, she saw an array of roasting pits, several of them occupied. As she drew closer she stopped to admire the scene. There...was something about a girl roasting on a spit that made her pussy tingle. It was wickedly exciting to imagine being on a spit like that. Behind the roasting pits there was a barbecue area with enough seating for several hundred, with many of the tables occupied, and carving tables where chefs were already busy serving a line of very hungry. All over my belly were the words, “Whore”, “slut”, “skank”, and “slave”. Then, he had drawn an arrow pointing down to my cunt and written, “Master’s cunt”. On both of my thighs he had written, “Master’s fucktoy”. I should have been insulted by these words, but instead, I felt my pussy dripping fluid out onto the bed. There was a growing pool of my juice underneath my thighs. I tightened my muscles, trying to keep from showing Master how turned on I was. But he knew. Of course he. More

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