#Pervember Joker: Spit-roasting

Today’s prompt was “branding” and that’s definitely not one of my kinks (nothing wrong with it between consenting adults of course, just doesn’t do anything for me) so I couldn’t really think of anything to write about it. Instead, I’m playing one of the jokers – something I have always wanted to experience and fantasise about frequently.

Spit-roasting, with its connotations of gluttony and primitivism; myself as nourishment and celebration, as sacrifice and utility.

A choice, perhaps; between the carnal and the alimentary….

CW: this story depicts not-quite-consensual sexual activity.


Their search hasn’t borne particularly impressive fruit. Adam and Sev had taken the houses along the left-hand side of the lake, Melissa the right. Their total haul; a tin of chickpeas, half a tube of tomato purée, a box of dry cat food and a wrinkled lime. Too many looters have been this way already, leaving no candles, batteries or blankets either.

Somewhere on the horizon, night is falling.

“There’s fuck-all there” says Adam in disgust, kicking dismissively at the chickpeas. “I knew we should have headed into town. There’s a convenience store two miles down the road, we could be having a barbecue by now”

Sev rolls his eyes. “Yeah, and that’ll be picked clean by now too. At least here we’ve got fresh water and firewood”

“Firewood’s no good without something to cook” mutters Adam and digs gloomy trenches in the earth with his stolen trainers.

“Chickpeas are full of protein” volunteers Melissa, as always the peacekeeper. “And with the tomato-”

Adam interrupts angrily “I don’t want fucking chickpeas! I’m sick of things in tins! I want chips! Steak! Onion rings! Fucking sticky toffee pudding!”

The other two groan in half-starved longing at the thought. Real food. It haunts their dreams at night and cramps their shrivelled stomachs by day. None of them have eaten a hot meal for months and the pickings are getting slimmer every day.

“Let’s build a fire anyway” suggests the ever-practical Sev. In the absence of any better ideas and lacking the will to complain any longer; they scatter to find firewood.

See builds a respectable fire. “My Boy Scout training” he grins as he sets the kindling alight. It’s amazing what a few months of total social breakdown will produce from memory; they’re all rediscovering skills they never thought they’d need.

It’s a comforting blaze but one that feeds the soul not the body. Adam is still sulking, convinced that if they’d only taken the left fork in the road, they’d be wallowing in Ginsters pasties by now. Used to his petulance, the other two maintain a tolerant silence as he keeps up a constant stream of “if only we’d” and “we should have”s. Eventually he falls quiet, staring into the crackling flames.

His expression has turned thoughtful.

“Mel” he says suddenly “how much do you weigh?”

She’s startled, offended and more than a little disturbed by the question. “Well, it’s not like I’ve been stepping on the scales every morning lately is it? What do you care anyway?”. She’s always been sensitive about her weight, a habit that has persisted even after the months of deprivation have taken their toll. The latest fad diet;, the Armageddon Eating Plan has become unexpectedly popular she thinks to herself with a wry twist of the mouth, not paying attention to the dangerous glint in Adam’s eye.

“Sev mate, how much d’ya reckon Mel weighs” he asks his friend, a current of deadly intent lurking beneath the light bantering tone. Sev frowns.

“That’s none of our business mate. Less than you, anyway”

Adam reaches forward and pinched the top of Melissa’s thigh through her torn cargo pants. “There’s gotta be a good few ounces of steak there”

Melissa starts to laugh in disbelief – then catches sight of his expression. Adam isn’t joking.

“Don’t be a dick, Adam” says Sev uncertainly. “Mel’s on the team. We can’t eat her, she’s our navigator

“Yeah well, she’s navigated us into a fucking dead end here” snarls Adam “so I reckon she owes us a meal now”.

Melissa opens her mouth to protest.

“Shut up” says Adam roughly. “You don’t get a say in this.” He stands, looming over her. A glint of firelight flashes from the switchblade in his hand. He turns to Sev.

“Look at that mate. Prime rump, juicy breast – we could have a decent meal for the first time in months. Aren’t you hungry? Fuck it, she’s more use to us as food than anything else”

By this time, Melissa is seriously alarmed. He’s serious. He’s seriously talking about eating her. She’s counted herself lucky to have been with Sev and Adam when it all went to shit, her childhood friends had formed a cosy little unit as they foraged and fought alongside each other. She’s not sure which is more upsetting, the idea of being cannibalised or the realisation that Adam, handsome Adam who she’s always had a crush on, is a selfish, sullen child at heart. A greedy child. A greedy, hungry, desperate man who wants to carve steaks from her flanks and eat them. She feels suddenly faint with horror.

By this time, Sev has cottoned on as well. For a second, he too eyes her speculatively, then frowns. “Mate, this is Mel. We’ve known her for twenty years. She’s one of us. We like her. We’ve got her back and she’s got ours. I’m not gonna cut her up just because you don’t like chickpeas, for fuck’s sake!” Until the last few words, his tone is calm, rational, persuasive. As he realises how few of his words are getting through, his tone rises, finishing the sentence on a yell.

Adam isn’t listening. He’s gathering tall sticks, measuring them with his hands, propping then up together by the fire

He’s making a spit roast.

Melissa finds her voice. “Adam, you can’t cook for shit. You’d waste any meat you got off me and you know it. Now eat the damn chickpeas or shut up!” She casts a desperate glance at Sev don’t let him do this “Have some water, you’ll feel better.”

He’s ignoring her, building his contraption with single-minded determination. “Give us a hand here mate”

Sev shakes his head, but he’s known Adam for long enough to realise when his obstinance has become impenetrable. Dissuasion is impossible at this point. There’s only diversion left.

“Have you thought though” he begins lazily, leaning back on his arms “that Mel here has more going for her than a few meals would warrant?”

She glares at him, what the fuck are you doing? He winks at her behind Adam’s back.

“I mean, look at her. She’s tasty in a better way than you’re thinking”

While reason cannot divert Adam’s attention from his empty stomach; lust is an infinitely more powerful distraction. He’s listening.

“I mean, you were right about the juicy breast, eh? She’s got great tits. Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed” Sev is warming to his theme now, his tone lascivious. “And those legs – not bad at all. Lovely skin.” To illustrate his point, he reaches out and traces his fingers lightly down Melissa’s bare arm, causing her to shiver. From fear? The unexpected warmth of his hand on her skin? Or from….another reason entirely? She doesn’t know. She should know. But right now, between Adam’s grisly threats and Sev’s gently exploring fingers, nothing is making sense at all. He’s reached the nape of her neck, always her most sensitive spot. She can’t think.

Adam is surveying them with a thoughtful expression as Sev’s hand wanders down Melissa’s spine and up under her hoodie. Despite the circumstances, it’s been so long since she’s been touched like this, she can feel herself responding. She turns her face towards Sev and notices, for the first time, that in his expression is more than old-school-mate affection. Her heart skips a beat. If it were just him and her here by the lake, she’d move in for a kiss. But Adam is watching.

Ever since she’s known these two, she’s considered Adam the desirable one. Sev, with his pleasant-but-average looks, his quiet manner and his placid personality was never the subject of her teenage wank-fantasies, has never been anything more than a friend. Until now. Now he’s declaring himself to save her life. Melissa isn’t quite sure whether this is ridiculous or achingly romantic.

During her musings, she hasn’t noticed Adam moving closer to herself and Sev. “So.” he says briskly “come on then Mel. If I can’t eat you, then I’l settle for fucking you” and with that he unzips his trousers. “Suck my cock.”

Sev rolls his eyes. “You’re such a fucking prince” he mutters, and cups Melissa’s elbow with one hand, easing her gently up onto her knees. “It was the only way I could think of to save you” he whispers to her. “I’m sorry”. He places his hand on the back of her head, guiding it towards Adam’s rapidly-swelling cock, stroking her hair tenderly.

“Uhhhh” groans Adam as her warm wet mouth encloses the length of his shaft. “Oh yeah”

Under other circumstances, she’d be enjoying herself. As it is, Melissa directs her focus entirely towards Adam’s maximum enjoyment, swirling her tongue over the taut head and around the sensitive rim of his dick, pursing her lips and sucking him deeply into her mouth. As he stiffens further between her jaws and reaches down to grab her hair, she finds she is enjoying herself. It’s been so long.

Sev is kneeling behind her; still stroking her, rubbing her shoulders. She reaches one hand behind her and encounters his hip, claws him closer until his breath stirs the hair at the back of her neck and his long, lean body is pressed against her. His hands are creeping downwards, skimming her hips, cupping her buttocks, reaching forwards.

Adam pushes her off, not wanting too soon a finish to this scene. “Your turn mate” he nods to Sev, sauntering around behind Melissa’s back and clapping his friend on the shoulder. “Have some of that”.

She can see the agony of indecision in Sev’s eyes when he stands in front of her. Lust warring against all the things that make him a better man than Adam. She loves him in that moment. She wants him. Fingers scrabbling eagerly at his belt buckle, drawing down his zip, reaching inside to pull the glorious length of him into the open air – somehow in this moment, she has forgotten their desperate situation, the danger around them, the threats that Sev’s suggestion had diverted. There’s only the hard cock in her mouth, strong hands pulling at her clothes, pushing apart her thighs, grabbing greedily at her breasts beneath the hoodie. Their heavy breathing, hers, his, his. The rustle of clothing. They are pressed together, the three of them and suddenly it feels like the best thing that’s happened to any of them since the riots began.

Melissa is undoing her jeans. Pulling back from Sev long enough to yank her hoodie off over her head, then diving back for more as Adam unbuttons her trousers and shoves them to her knees. The cool night air against her bare skin causes her to gasp; Sev moans as her throat works against his cock.

She stands up, kicks off her shoes and trousers and kneels naked on the lake shore.

“Come on then boys” she burlesques, laughing. “Come and get it'”

They tear off their own clothes, fall upon her like feral dogs on a rabbit. Adam spreads her labia with one hand, thrusts two fingers inside her with the other. She’s already slick with arousal, unable to stop herself from clenching her cunt as he fucks her roughly with his hand. No finesse, no consideration; he ignores her clit entirely jabbing his fingers deep into her. Something about this is disturbingly hot; the way this man who, a moment ago was planning to kill her in cold blood, is now so intimately close. She thrusts back against his fingers and moans through her mouthful of Sev.

Sev watches the expression of abandonment cross Melissa’s face with a mixture of fierce lust and bitter regret. He didn’t want it to be like this; always imagined their first time together as being slow, tender. Loving. But her teeth scraping against his swollen dick, her pale skin in the firelight, these are more compelling than any might-have-been-fantasy encounter. He can see Adam moving in, grabs Melissa’s hair to keep her head down and thrusts harder into her mouth to keep her attention occupied. As she feels Adam slide his thick cock inside her – god, she’s wet – she pictures herself seen from the outside; back arched, fucked at both ends by hungry, desperate men. They’re ignoring each other, each working to his own rhythm; Adam’s frenzied and rough, Sev’s firm and leisurely.

Adam slows down – not wanting to come first, guesses Sev correctly. He’s on the edge himself, but something years-old and competitive between them won’t let him be the first to surrender. Melissa is having none of it. Bucking her hips, she refuses to allow Adam’s change of pace. It’s become a competition between them, between the three of them; a battle of wills and desires. The night is silent but for their gasping breaths, the slap of flesh on flesh.

A fire is gathering in Melissa, a bigger, hotter blaze than the pyre on which she was to be sacrificed, familiar and far more welcome. She’s rubbing her clit now, hard pressure in fast circles as her orgasm builds. Adam feels her cunt clench around him, his eyes widening. Sev feels the vibration of her moans through her lips and throat, his balls tightning in response.

Melissa comes with a long drawn out half-yell, half-moan; squirming, drooling, shuddering. Filled and plundered, used and gratified, saved and sacrificed; this is the best she’s felt in years. The twitching, throbbing of her cunt is too much for Adam; he loses control, exploding with what feels like the force of a firehose.

Melissa is looking up into Sev’s face. “Mmmff” is all she can manage but the message is clear come in my mouth – and Sev allows himself release at last.

Adam dresses without a word to either of them, stretches out on the earth and snoring before their heart rates have returned to normal. Sev and Melissa cuddle before the fire, their eyelids growing heavy. When Sev’s breathing is hoarse and heavy enough to indicate sleep, Melissa gently disentagles herself from him and slips over to Adam. His switchblade is right there in his pocket where he’d tucked it earlier. She and Sev have become a unit, an unspoken bond between them. Adam is a liability, a threat.

Steak, she thinks.

And smiles to herself in the darkness.

6 thoughts on “#Pervember Joker: Spit-roasting

  1. Hot Damn, I loved this story! When I saw the title I got very excited, and then when they started building a fire and talk of eating I thought this might be a cooking blog… But, you did not disappoint, writing some hot realistic cock-stroking sex. Extra points for clever dialog.

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