Ashley Graham: Ham Dinner

 Here's one of many tasty stories I've written over the years!:

Ashley Graham: Ham Dinner

She tested the strength of the slightly rusted chain attached to the leather collar around her neck for the 12th time that morning, hoping that this would be the time when it finally gave out.

Tug. Grunt. Tug. Tug. Ughhh.

Nope, still holding on to her like it had a stake in her fate.

Ashley Graham plopped her thick, olive skinned, fleshy ass back on to the hay at the bottom of her cell, in the basement of Ryan St. Ryan's winter cabin, where she was doomed to spend the final two weeks of her life. Yeah, that Ryan St. Ryan. The action star had chatted the supermodel up at a charity auction. He'd seemed charming enough, Ashley remembered, like the kind of guy who'd stick his neck out for a pretty girl at the cost of his own well-being. They'd gone on few dates hence, where it seemed he'd lived up to that well-being jazz a hundred times over.

According to him, after she had woken up, chained spread eagle and nude on his bed, she was going to contribute to his well-being. He'd landed the lead role in some superhero pic and needed to bulk up his strong yet wiry frame quick. A high protein diet, he'd said, would do the trick—as he forced his tongue down Ashley's throat and worked his hands beneath the well-fed woman to lovingly stroke her broad, beefy back. He trailed open mouth kisses on both of her cheekbones, down her throat, and between her plump, heavy breasts—each kiss ending with a bit of suction, as if he were tasting her. It became harder and harder for Ashley to hold back moans of elation with each one.

He stared longingly at her rising and falling chest, the action causing her mammaries to jiggle enticingly. Glancing up at her to wink smugly, his hands quickly wrapped themselves around her jiggling boobage; his mouth soon followed, sucking the entirety of the summit of her left breast into his mouth, tongue rolling around her areolae and teeth testing the dexterity and texture of her hardened, dark coral nipple. Against her will, a low animalistic moan escaped Ashley's throat, arching her back instinctively to force more of her tit into Ryan's hungry mouth, wishing to God that her legs were free so that she could rub them together to ease her rising lust. His teeth were nipping away at the rest of the well suckled teat, testing the thickness of the fatty mound of female flesh. She was disappointed when he stopped laving attention upon her fully aroused boob, and a little weirded out when he looked her straight in the eyes and licked his lips.

"Let's see if the other one tastes as good," he drawled as he massaged the savory milk sack, right before diving—mouth fully opened—onto its sister. He mouthed the unsuspecting suck-em hungrily, mmm-ing every now and then, fully enjoying the flavor he was getting from the squirming young woman beneath him. Ashley could only close her eyes and enjoy the sensation his feasting was causing her, not noticing when his right hand headed downward towards her moist, shaven sex.

All at once he bit down on the dark pink nubbin atop her breast and plunged three fingers into her dripping twat, receiving a breathy yelp from the bucking babe. He dunked his fingers into her a few more times, drawing out a satisfied grunt with each thrust, and drew the sticky, lady cum drenched digits to his face. As Ashley watched him, transfixed, he brought them first to his nose, to enjoy the aroma of the pulsating plumper's sexual essence, and then stuck them into his mouth, closing his eyes to better savor the rich, tangy flavor of the nectar of her neither regions, moaning in satisfaction at her taste.

"I wonder," Ryan snarked, "if this stuff tastes better," smirking when Ashley began thrashing her head back and forth when he dropped his fingers down to her cunt once more and began playing with her engorged clit, "straight from the source?"

"P-please..." the supermodel begged, her entire frame burning with desire, managing to—despite her position—to raise her pelvis towards her captor, her twat slightly spasming, gooey pussy cream drooling out of her love tunnel.

"Please what, bitch?"

"Please..." she forced out of herself, "please...e-eat...eat me..."

"A little louder honey, I didn't quite hear..."

The need to cum ambushed the side of Ashley that was screaming to her that his man was taking her against her will and strangled it to death, even as the model herself screeched "FUCKING EAT ME!"

Ryan's smile turned wolfish—that was exactly what he wanted to hear. Leaving the supermodel weeping with wanton need and shame, he popped over to the mini-fridge on the left side of his bed and pulled out a container of Miracle Whip. "Wh-what the fuck are you d-doing..." Ashley managed to groan out around her desperate mewling, even as Ryan pulled a plastic spatula out from his dresser.

"I," he said, as he opened up the container of sandwich condiment, "am going," sticking the culinary tool into the tangy cream, "to do exactly," getting a healthy glob out of the jar, "what you told me to do." Ashley screamed in a shock induced orgasm as he slapped the ice cold mayo covered spatula on to her sweltering snatch, the action sending every fleshy part of her, from saliva soaked teat to sweat covered thigh wobbling like an ocean wave. She looked up at him, her expression caught between utter disgust—she was never a fan of mayonnaise—and please-God-don't-stop-now. The charming young man hungrily snarled, "Gonna start with a nice Bacon Sandwich," as he moved down between the woman's thick, trembling thighs, "and, you should know, a sandwich just isn't a sandwich without the tangy zip of Miracle Whip."

Gripping her plentiful hips in a death-like grip, opening his jaws as wide as he could, drool dripping from the corners of his mouth, he dove right into Ashley's creamy crotch, teeth biting down onto her most sensitive flesh, as his tongue began thrusting into the wet, sticky folds of her vagina at the same time.

Ashley screamed with orgasm after orgasm in the span of a few moments, weeping in elation as Ryan feasted on her squirting snatch, her love honey splashing against the mayo on her mons, the combined creams mixing together into a flavor at once unique and utterly delicious. When he had sucked all of it off her quivering quim, he dunked the spatula into the jar again, and—with a Cheshire Cat grin—rammed the cold cream covered instrument deep into the girl's molten maiden-head. The breath was taken right out of the supermodel's lungs, her eyes rolling in the back of her head as thrust the spatula into her over and over, twirling it around and stretching out the walls of her pulsating pussy before yanking it out and mouthing her slit once more, not stopping until he'd sucked out as much of the bouncing beauty's fuck frosting as he could. As Ashley came down from her spatula-screw induced high, she was greeted by the sight of Ryan attacking it like a lollypop, slurping down the cream that it was drenched in.

"Mmmm...as tasty as that was, I don't want to fill up on the appetizer," Ryan moaned as he threw the spatula across the room, "and it's time to start fixing the main course." Grabbing Ashley's sweat covered face and pulling towards him, he brought his as close as he could to hers. She could smell the mix of mayo and cunt in his breath, "And do you know what the main course is tonight?."

"N-nnnn…" the quivery chubette couldn't even concentrate enough to form a single two letter word.

"Honey Roasted Ham," his smile almost demonic, "Honey...Roasted...Ham. A La...Ashley Graham," grabbing her haunches and squeezing them, testing their resilience.

"Wh-what? Are you f-fucking serious?" Ashley finally managing to screw her face up into something resembling incredulous disgust.

Before she could utter another syllable, Ryan's hand came across her face, slapping her hard enough to make her nose bleed, "I'm going to eat you, you fucking corn-fed whore!"

"Noooo…" the woman wept...

"Fuck yes!" he snarled as Ashley looked up at him in terror, "I am going to truss you up like a Butterball turkey, 'cause you definitely got the breasts for it," squeezing her helpless hooters hard enough to make his captive wince in pain, "stick you in a pan, cover all this meat with honey," running his hand up and down her frightened frame, "stick cloves into you," poking her thighs roughly, as Ashley's eyes widened in utter horror, "pop you in a goddamned oven, cook you and fucking eat every fucking morsel of meat on your fat fucking body," and added looking her straight in the eye, "while you are still FUCKING ALIVE!!"

"You—you're crazy! You can't eat me! I'm not a piece of meat, you sick fuck!"

"You remember this, you dumb whore," he screamed back, imitating the need in her voice from an hour and a half before, "'Uhh..uhhh..uhh….'," imitating her while she was on the cusp of orgasm, "'P-please...Please FUCKING EAT MEEEE!!'" The fearful filly shut her eyes in humiliation—she had really sounded like that, begging for her rapist to go down on her, "You said I could—YOU BEGGED ME TO! So guess what, I am! Every. Fucking. Fatty. Shred. Of. YOU!!"

He needed to go on a specialized diet. It began to click now, the conversation, the seemingly normal conversation she had with him before the night went to Hell like a bat out of it.

A high protein pork diet.

In this case, a high protein HUMAN pork diet.

HER pork, in fact.

This motherfucker was really going to do it. He was going to cook and eat her.

She hoped she heard him wrong, but knew deep down inside she hadn't—cook and eat her ALIVE.

Ashley Graham knew then...she was never leaving this house.

Not alive.

Not whole.

How could she, with pieces of her digesting...

Oh, God...

As the supermodel lay before him, a hunger of a different sort took ahold of Ryan. He’d lapped at Ashley’s dripping cooch like a kitten, the feel of that pussy twitching around his tongue…

Mmmm…just the thought of her vaginal muscles massaging it brought a smile to his face.

It also made him hard as a rock.

And here lay nearly six feet, 190 pounds of Grade A Woman. With a rich, thick ass and those chubby 38D-cup tits. And those lips--they were made for sucking dick. Hell, he’d be an idiot not to use her to her full extent. By tonight, he would never have another chance, not with fatty, juicy slabs of her still living flesh on his dinner plate.

As if their minds were somehow connected, the same thought smashed through Ashley’s near broken mind. Unlike the countless dumb animals butchered for their meat, she knew exactly what was in store for her...an idea at the least. Meat, Ashely thought, this asshole only wanted my meat. Definitely a far from pleasant thought to share, but it was done so nonetheless. While it left her future murderer with a raging, twelve inch long boner, she could only react in disgusted rage. “You’re already going to torture me to death, motherfucker! Don’t you dare put your dick in…”

Again, Ryan’s palm found Ashley’s cheek, the left one this time, leaving both sides a bright red. Despite her position, the supermodel refused to lower her eyes, glaring as if daring him to do it again. Anger caused her to swallow in deep, long breaths—making her well suckled boobs bounce and jiggle with the motion. The woman wept, but it was tears of rage and frustration that leaked copiously from her eyes. Her breaths were also causing her plump belly to undulate mouthwateringly. Everything her body did only seemed to egg the Hollywood pretty boy on. Ashley couldn't stand it; the silence was driving her nuts. Whatever answer she expected Ryan to give, his body did for him, as a glob of precum formed at the plump pink head of his swollen, sweaty cock.

For a long moment, captive and captor dueled with the intensity of their eyes, hers brown, his blue.

Ryan could stand it no longer and jumped up upon the bed. Using one hand to hold her still and the other to spread her Miracle Whip and Ham scented quim wide open, he looked at Ashley one more time, licked his lips, winked and—with all the force he could muster—rammed half of his turgid length into the plush, pretty plumper.

Her screams, Ashley admitted to herself now, chained in the basement, a week later, awaiting the tragic end of her life…were not entirely in protest or pain.

Her body, she remembered, was not in full agreement with her tortured mind, as she began buck her hips upward, her bare pelvis smashing into Ryan’s dirty blonde pubes, slowly and deliberately until all of Ryan St. Ryan’s dick was fully buried to the hilt in Ashley Graham’s love-sauce covered love tunnel. The muscles of her soaking wet vaginal walls worked the thick, heavy dick within them with reckless abandon, coaxing more and more cum up from his testicles to the shaft of his dick, where it drooled out of the fat mushroom head as he rode her.

Their moans were a twisted concert. He filled the bedroom with horny grunts, as he enjoyed the slippery, satiny feel of his entree's tight cunt, pulling on his length like it was trying to devour it, sighing as it sucked a little more spunk out of his glistening, gushing glans. In return, she squealed--well--like a distressed piglet, not knowing whether or not to enjoy the final and admittedly most fantastic fuck of her life or let the horror of what the man screwing her planned on doing to her body while there was still breath in her lungs afterward. Ryan mouthed Ashley's breasts whenever the opportunity presented itself, as Ashley savored the feel of his plump, fulsome balls slapping against her ass with every pump.

A good thirty five minutes later both of them were dripping in sweat, battling to see whose dam would break first. At long last, the stud couldn't hold his seed back anymore, and with one final thrust and a heady roar, his testicles released their nectar, the hot head of his dick spewing rope after rope of his sexual essence, splurting and splashing inside the plus-sized model, giving a final satisfied moan as he finished painting the inside of Ashley's birth canal white with his rich, gooey semen. Ashley smirked for a moment--both from the fact that one of the world's sexiest men had cum before her and that the sperm leaking out from her slit tickled her sensitive, well-squeezed butt cheeks--before she followed suit, thrashing her pretty head to and fro, breasts flopping with rapturous joy, and throatily screaming in pleasure as her cunt drenched the penis within her with warm, tangy juice.

"Ohhhh...poor baby," Ashley purred, running her pink tongue over her thick, swollen lips, "you couldn't keep all that...nice, hot..cuuuummm..in you anymore, huh? W-went and came all inside...of meee."


Ryan laughed. "Maybe so, bitch...but the next time I cum inside a girl," leaning down to whisper in her ear--the cruelty oozing from his sex-roughened voice, "some of the protein innit…," simultaneously squeezing a ripe breast and thumbing the still diamond hard nipple upon it, "is gonna come from 'ere," and grabbing a slippery ass cheek before sliding his hand between the half-moons, savoring the feel of her glutes sandwiching him, "and here..."

Ashley growled, her face scrunched up in disgust as her assailant ran his hands all over her body, his cock hardening up again. Loosening first the rope that tied her right hand to the headboard, then the rope around her right ankle--after over a half hour of violent sex, Ashley could barely move either one of them, let alone try and claw or kick her rapist--and retying them to the opposite sides, he nudged the model onto hers. Despite her inner revulsion, she moaned as he laved her sweat drenched spine with his tongue, gathering up the salt released through her pores, savoring each tongue-full. Ryan took pride in getting one more orgasm out of his future meal when he lavished the same treatment on her mountainous backside, alternating each lick with a harsh love bite, committing the flavor of her raw derriere to memory. Ashley didn't notice the slight wooshing sound coming from behind her butt until she felt something cool and sweet smelling wetting it.

The wetting INBETWEEN the chunky cheeks of her colossal caboose drew her full attention.

She'd had an inkling of what was in store for her now. It morphed into a sinking feeling when she saw the spray can of Coconut Oil fly over her, land on the bed in front of her, and then roll off of it. That feeling was soon replaced with a big hint--a real big, throbbing, moist and drooling hint--nudging itself betwixt the succulent spheres of her supple seat.

"No, no, no, NO, NO, NOOO!!!," Ashley squealed as she felt Ryan's moist glans pressing against her sphincter.

"FUCK YES, YOU FUCKING PIG!," He belted in response, an iron grip around her waist and right thigh, as he bucked into her butt over and over, the girl screaming in response--this time, the ratio of pain and pleasure was firmly tilted toward the former--her bunghole finally up and quit its battle to remain puckered as he managed to cram a good four inches of his manhood up Ashley's blushing ass, getting another fifth of a foot of himself into her crack with every other hump. Knowing that it was Ashley Graham's ass that was being forced against its will to swallow his monster of a cock pushed him over the edge, his cum coating her colon with every strangled spew, filling the room with his joyful, erotic howls.

Not that Ashley heard or felt his further defilement of her. The pain of having something so big rammed up where it shouldn't have gone overtook all her senses. She was fully unconscious when he finally began struggling to pull himself out of her...

*******************************************************************

The pain of her anal rape is what finally dragged her back into the land of the living several hours later, finding herself in Ryan St. Ryan's basement, laying on a bed of straw, tethered by her neck to the wall with a dog chain, a small trough full of animal feed at her side, waiting for the final day of what was--at least up until that point--a pretty good life.

"You're a big gal, Ash," Ryan had chuckled, "but you need to be a bit bigger. After all, I want your fat ass to baste itself," he continued, with a beatific smile on his face, as he wrestled her to the ground when she refused to eat. It always ended the same way every day, for a fucking week; hog-tying her limbs behind her, with one hand pulling her mouth wide open, the other shoving handful after handful of pig feed and molasses down her throat as she bucked, wriggled, and screamed in shame and protest.

Again, the asshole came down the stairs, fought the Amazon-sized woman to a standstill and hog-tied her. She waited for him to stuff more pig feed down her gullet. He looked the girl over, felt the extra heft her food rations had added on to her already ample frame. He backed the girl up into a corner and propped her up on her knees. Again, she waited to be assailed again with hog chow.


The silence within the stall was broken with the sound of the zipper of Ryan's pants being yanked down. Ashley closed her eyes and looked away. He had fucked her in both her pussy and her ass; still she wept, despite the fact that she should have been expecting this.

What she wasn't expecting was the sound of something being squirted out, the ripe sour scent of mustard, and Ryan moaning softly. When she finally opened her eyes, she was assailed by a morbid, and yet morbidly mouthwatering sight: Ryan's fully engored, plump, pink dick, his pubes shaved clean. And with a zigzag of yellow mustard starting at the base of his package and ending with a droplet of the condiment nestled in the yawning mouth of his glans.

A bit of yellow, of course, mixed with a small glob of white mayonnaise--the kind that could only be produced by the balls of a horny, well endowed beefcake.

"Do you really want me to force it down?," Ryan growled softly as Ashley remained transfixed at the sight.

Oddly enough, even after all she'd been through, this is what finally broke her--the sight of her rapist's dick made up like a twisted impersonation of an Oscar Meyer Weiner.

"No," was all Ashley said, before opening her mouth wide and taking in half of a French's iced hard-on, slurping on the trembling, salty living flesh being pressed into the roof of her mouth with her tongue, her eyes rolling back in her head, lovingly taking in all of Ryan's rich, sweet-sour flavor.


"If you b-bite...Oh gawwwdd, yeah-ssss...bite me, you f-fucking cow, I'll...uhhhhh..."

"Not gonna bite youuu…," Ashley released his throbbing cock from her mouth. "T-Told you...told you to eat meeee…"

"Ahhhhhh-uhhh-hahhhh..." Ryan couldn't even form words as the supermodel lapped at the head of his dick like a Blow Pop, nipping at it and smirking at the man who had broken her and would put her back together as his dinner flinching every time.

"Y-you can...eat meee..but," Ashley looked up at him pleading, then back down at his cock, on the verge of bursting, "...want...want more...of you...," staring longingly at his length, then popped her head back up at him, "With Mayo..."

She got his plump peener slathered with Miracle Whip, wolfing down the mix of mayonnaise and man-naise when he came down her throat, howling at the pleasure.

Ashley gave him the most sincere, beautiful smile she could muster. And then asked for thirds.

This time she wanted ketchup.

And mustard again, this time on his balls, which she hungrily slurped and even bit, bit hard enough to leave a mark.

Whap, across the face with a swift right hand and a moment of silence.

"Sorry." And Ashley returned to her "meal."

Finally, finally she had her fill of Ryan's sucked dry sausage, the man leaning against a pillar, trying to catch his breath.

"Are...are you still going to eat me alive," the fulsome brunette inquired.

"A good...g-good girl like you?," Ryan's smile was sweet. Not sinister sweet, just sweet. He dropped down to his knees in front of the fully ravaged and ravished Ashley Graham. "No, honey...," he whispered, a hand disappearing behind his back. Ashley closed her eyes, smiled, a single tear of joy leaving a watery trail down her cheek.

There was a deep sharp pain in her forehead, wincing from the impact made her shut her eyes harder. It was something, something sharp, like a knife...

Ryan looked down at one of the most beautiful women in the world, as blood dripped from her forehead, dripped around the glowing emerald pin that had been forced into it, and into her brain.

"...not alive."

*******************************************************************

Ryan had said that she would be an important part of his diet, and he meant it. It wasn't long afterward that the cabin was soon filled with the delicious scent of cooking pork. Even from within the thick door of the commercial sized oven, you could hear the meat resting in the deep pan popping and sizzling, as hot little rivers of molten fat fought their way out of the tightening, crisping, browning an breaking skin of the beheaded corpse of what used to be a supermodel.

The carcass had been spitted up through her ass, with the rod emerging from what was once her throat, and rested in the pan, a half foot in the air. Ashley's plump-yet-well-toned belly had been split open, revealing the rich fat covered abdominal muscle that contained all that keeps any man or woman walking and talking; the girl was gutted out completely, her innards replaced by Gramma Peterson's special recipe of cornbread and turkey breast stuffing. A "bird" stuffed with bird--the thought had brought Ryan to his knees laughing. His co-stars were right, he did have a peculiar sense of humor, he continued to chuckle to himself as he took a long strand of twine and sewed the beefy brunette's bacon-y belly back together.

Ryan was unable to decide how to pose Ashley, once he'd began prepping her. Her hands and feet were removed, the formers would be pan-fried as the star attraction of some very tasty lady finger sandwiches; as with all pigs, Ashley's trotters would be pickled, like her actual porcine "brethren." He had kept one promise to the murdered maiden; he'd stabbed holes into her thick thighs, arms, and ass and filled them with cloves. The girl's request for mustard during her last meal had given her chef a truly bizarre idea. A quick jaunt to the grocery store at the foot of the mountain had provided him enough mustard to rub all over the butchered beauty's body, to give an extra bit of spice to her flesh.

An hour search yielded a long spit. Long enough, and strong enough, to hold Ashley's beefy body above a drip pan. Ryan had decided it would be easier this way to collect her drippings and pour off any extra fat that oozed from her porky pores. A bit of seasoning with paprika, salt, pepper and thyme finished the first part of his dinner plans, and--with a bit of effort--he got the panful of juicy, jaunty girlmeat into the pre-heated oven. His nose was soon regaled with the rich scent of good ole French's Yellow. Ryan turned on the oven light to the heavenly sight of wafts of steam rising from Ashley's tender torso and thighs, the mustard doing its duty. The cannibal smiled at the condiment covered cutie dripping melting fat and mustard. Both of them boiled on her skin quickly, forcing the yellow sauce's tangy zip and Ashley's own natural flavor back deep into her skin and muscle.

He already had the honey and brown sugar melted when it was time to glaze her. He turned her on the spit, making sure the sweet sticky stuff coated every nourishing nook and crispy cranny. Her heavy frame had undergone an amazing transformation; her olive skin turned into a deep dark caramel brown, her dusky pink nipples and the opening of her vagina had turned dark and crispy in the heat. He chuckled--her pussy lips had indeed turned into crispy-on-the-outside, chewy-inside bacon. Fat oozed from the clove punctures in her body, and from her young fat tits. Ryan thanked God that he had gotten to the oven in time from setting the table to ram a needle through her nipples, so the fat within her breasts could escape and add a nice sweetness to her rib-meat. During the last hour, he nudged the honey baked harlot aside, enough to give him room to pop in a few loaves of bread.

It was hard work, and he was sure he'd lost a few pounds while getting the main course ready. But it was more than worth it to see all that Honey Roasted Graham, still oozing juice, even after he'd taken a blow torch to the carcass to caramelize the glaze, locking Ashley's pink, juicy meat in a human pork flavored candy shell. She'd been like heaven to fuck, and she was just as heavenly to carve. He started at her ass, slicing the thick, dripping left cheek into slippery, savory slabs, all the way until he hit bone. He turned the front of her torso skyward, and sliced away both of her baked-yet-boiled-from-the-inside-out breasts. He returned to her bottom for two more things; where the flesh of her left thigh met her ass--or rather, where it used to be--and carved away two thick, pink on the inside ham steaks from the heavy haunch. A ladle full of homemade mashed potatoes, dripping in rich brown Ashley gravy, was lovingly dolloped onto two waiting plates, soon followed by a thick slice of fresh baked bread, a few slices of ass, a ham steak, and a tender titty.

Ryan, despite the impatient look on his dinner guest's face, couldn't help himself. Turning Ashley around again, he traced the crispy lips of her cunt tenderly.

And then he slathered them with Miracle Whip, opened his mouth as wide as he could, and dove between the brunette's baked thighs. As his head rose up, he ripped away the thick, chewy meat of Ashley Graham's juicy gash, teeth tearing the melting mayo covered maidenhead into chunks small enough for him to swallow.

"Are you done being a fucking pig, Ry?," Ashley Graham glared from across the table, the emerald in her forehead glowing with her glowering, harping away at her host with a mouthful of her own ass.

"I don't know Ash--do you want to be cooked alive...Bitch?," an answering red glow coming from his forehead.

"It would be a nice change of pace, asshole. You keep telling me you're going to do it,"--she feasted on her own breast now--"but you never do."

Ryan's expression softened. "You do know that's an act, right Eloi..."

"Real fucked up act," Ashley's complaint was stopped by a loud belch and a spoonful of mashed potatoes and her own gravy, "Sprigun."

The two lovers snarked back and forth, the argument getting more and more heated until Ryan St. Ryan shoved the roast Ashley to the ground, grabbed the Ashley Graham who was still alive by her hair, threw her into the pan filled with her fat and natural juices, slathered enough of it onto bouncing right breast and bit.

Bit into it until his top and bottom molars met in the middle and yanked away a hunk of hooter.

Ashley screamed, in equal parts pain AND pleasure, as she and Ryan wrestled around in her own drippings; as he ate her alive for the--well, she long ago lost count--that is, she screamed as she orgasmed with each and every bite.

A Thanksgiving tradition between a supermodel and an actor who nearly got to be a superhero...on the big screen, ripping each other's clothes off in a twisted ritual they had partaken in countless times before, in a bunker a quarter mile under the Hollywood sign.

Fucking, sucking, and eating one another--as Ashley managed to knock Ryan to the ground, place his right teste in a deathly tight grip, and bit it off of him; the mix of slightly crunchy and chewy--like a boiled, bologna flavored egg with the shell still on. A kick to her face, and the girl answered by wrapping her mouth around the head of her unlikely lover's plump cock, and closed her jaws like a steal trap.

Fucking. Sucking.

Snarling like rabid animals.

And eating one another.

One way, they discovered years ago, to relieve the boredom of being alive when pretty much everyone else wasn't.

To escape the horror and heartache of losing everything and everyone they ever fucking loved.

The only way their broken minds knew how to express the love they had for one another.

In a putrid, festering nuclear nightmare that used to be the western United States, in an even worse nightmare that used to be the world itself.

All because a mentally retarded reality star shoved his hand down on a shiny red button when he was told he didn't get to be President anymore.

And a cabal of five terrorists followed answered back with an act of cruelty and utter stupidity of their own.

As Ryan bit down on her gushing, LIVING, twat, a thought passed through the minds of both predator and prey.

Though, it was only Ashley who voiced it out loud, between screams of crippling pain and joyous rapture:

"Thank God for Magic!!"


*******************************************************************

This is but a small part of an illuminating history--

--of the battle between the forces of Technology and Magic.

Without preamble, the world exploded with a hundred flaming fireballs.

It began with a bomb, set off by six terrorists.

One of which was the "leader" of the Free World...

And it was now, that they returned...

Elves and Dwarves and Fairies and Ogres and Trolls...

...The Daughters and Sons of their Chosen Champions...

...And other creatures of what had once been considered Fantasy and Fiction...

THE true ancestors of man.

And how they sent out many an emissary, years and years and years before.

Not to stop the terror that befell the planet.

For there was no possible way to save it.

But to seek out those among man who were worthy of a very wonderful gift.


Those who truly deserved to live.

Those were destined to save what was left of it.

Sometimes...those gifts fell into the wrong hands...

...or like the Amazonion Eloi Ashley and the Spriggan Ryan--

...hands who did not know how to use them...yet.

More often than not, they didn't.

This warped little love story is but one of very, very many.

Of how they thrived and suffered. And suffered and thrived.


Of how the True Ancestors of Man and their Champions, the Children of Elliolah and Spyrgianne reclaimed the world...

...that was rightfully, and always, theirs...

….

I'm dead serious...Why the Fuck are you laughing?!