Milf Over Coals
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“Jenny! Wake up!” Amber’s booming, authoritative voice almost seemed like it would have shaken the whole house. “We’re going to be late for your uncle’s get-together!”
 
 
Jennifer groaned loudly. Loudly enough that she hoped her mother would be able to sense her frustration. “Coming moommmm…” She made sure to drag out the word “mom” as long as possible, to give it a bit of heft.
 
 
“Don’t you moooooommmm me. You know, uncle Byron asked me if I’d be willing to sell you for his little party. If I were you I’d show just a little bit more gratitude if you don’t want me to change my mind next time.”
 
 
Jenny took a deep breath, if only to silence herself from going any further in a way that she’d regret. The “old” lady was right. Until she’d finally graduated, and she still had a few months to go, she was legally her mother’s property. Truthfully she was already on thin ice, with the B average she’d maintained for much of her senior year.
 
 
Still more than a little groggy, the tomboy clumsily stumbled out of bed, over piles of unwashed dirty clothes that lined the floor, and finally out the door towards the bathroom. A bit of steam was usually a good pick-me-up for her. Once inside, Jenny simply brushed her teeth at the same time as she took her shower. Two birds with one stone, and she didn’t even have to wash the foam off her lips when she was done. Efficiency. That was the name of the game. The less time she spent cleaning, the more time she could spend browsing her socials when her mother inevitably dragged on getting ready, despite her whining about her daughter waking up late. Afterwards, all she needed was to quickly tie her dirty-blonde hair into a ponytail, pick a bra that still fit her growing D cups, and throw on her favorite fashionable jeans and pink tube top. In the end, she decided… not to go commando with the jeans, but she did spend more time than was reasonable considering it. It always felt… dangerous. Rebellious.
 
 
Sure enough, Amber remained in the master bedroom for another half hour after Jenny was done. The busty blonde milf had agonized over whether to go formally conservative, or teasingly modern for most of that time in fact. In the end, always eager to compete with her child, she’d landed on her own denims, and tight fitting, buttoned yellow blouse that might have left less to the imagination than Jenny’s shirt, if it didn’t hug her generous curves so perfectly.
 
 
Jenny blushed, trying to lose herself in her phone all the more at the sight. She’d always been jealous of her mother’s more generous bosom, and she’d always smothered the embarrassing attraction she’d felt for her these last few years. Not that Amber made it easy to do so.
 
 
“Ready then?” asked the woman, as though she hadn’t been the one to stall everything all this time.
 
 
“I guess… Please tell me we’re just gonna stick around for a little to be polite this time. I was gonna hang out with the girls tonight…”
 
 
“Don’t you start with any of that, young lady.” Amber’s tone took that sort of… matter-of-fact tone that she always weaponized when she was angry with Jennifer. “You know your uncle works super hard on these neighborhood gatherings, and I’ll be grilled with bananas before I let you ruin it all for him or for us. Now, if everything’s good, let’s get going. Your father said he’ll meet us there.”
 
 
Jenny simply groaned. “Yes mom…” In truth, the girl knew she was being overdramatic, and she knew her mother knew, too. When all was said and done, Jenny couldn't deny that she loved these barbecues. Uncle Byron was a wiz with food. The kind of cook that sort of spoiled all other meals for you after you ate of their table, because from then on, nothing else would taste even remotely as good by comparison.
 
 
—
 
 
The drive through the old neighborhood her uncle lived in was always an opportunity for Jenny to let her mind wander a little. To kind of… let everything fade away for a moment. The town’s trees were old enough that they towered over most of the suburban ranch style houses, giving the place a perpetually shady, sleepy vibe. It was the kind of place crazy cat ladies, regretful retirees, and pretentious emo teenagers having no experience with real hardship were expected to live. The town did have one claim to fame however, and that was her uncle’s much adored bimonthly barbecues. The man had been a prominent chef at Chez Dolcett years ago, and even after becoming a franchise owner and leaving the public kitchen, he found it difficult to keep his old profession behind. Jenny figured he just missed the public attention, which was why he made all of these things a sort of town event.
 
 
The girl was snapped away from her thoughts when she felt her mother’s van slow down, rolling up on the cul de sac where everything was going to go down. Already, there were three other cars lined up on the curb, one of them her dad’s, and at least five families total milling about on the lawn. It didn’t take much searching before she was able to pick out her father from the hungry crowd. The man’s drab office attire stood out like a sore thumb amongst all the casual summerwear preferred by just about everyone else. He was the easiest way to look busy at these boring social functions. It was a lot simpler to break the ice with one’s own parent, and she was still a bit grumpy with her mother for waking her up a bit early.
 
 
“Hey dad. How’s everything going?” Jenny did her best to put on a mild smile as she approached.
 
 
“Oh hi baby girl. We’re just waiting for your uncle to kick everything off with the evening’s pig. Seems there was a bit of a hiccup getting everything going, and your uncle was a bit worried for a bit that he’d have to cancel the evening.”
 
 
“So… the meat didn’t get sorted out beforehand?”
 
 
“Well… it was supposed to have been, but I guess your aunt Dixie forgot to go pick it up, and you know how persnickety these places are about reserved meat. Seems the poor girl got sold off to a bunch of frat boys instead this morning. Don’t worry though, Uncle Byron was able to work something new out at the last minute.”
 
 
“That’s good at least.” Jenny sighed in a way that only an angsty teenager could. The food was the only thing she really liked about these soirees. Hanging out around a bunch of people she barely knew was not her usual idea of a good time.
 
 
Or… so she thought at least. Just as Jenny had begun to resign herself to an afternoon of bland political or sporty conversation, an all too familiar redhead, with her spiked, medium length do, made herself quite visible in the crowd that elswise consisted of plain, conservative styles.
 
 
“Oh my gawd! Jenny?” Agatha's boisterous voice cut through the pleasant murmer of the crowd like a laser-sword through water. “I thought you'd be out of this town by the time I got back!” The twenty-one year old leapt through the air towards Jenny with the grace of a track-and-field draft, though she'd sworn in emails that she was majoring in IT.
 
 
Jenny always appreciated how her cousin had a habit of hugging her tightly into her considerable bust, and this time was no exception. In fact, Agatha almost seemed to be trying to drown Jenny in her tatas. Not that Jenny complained. In the entire time the two had known each other, Jenny considered the girl one of the most beautiful things on the planet. Dixie's daughter had, in addition to inheriting her mother's love for attention, also picked up her nearly perfect proportions. Jenny had started going to highschool during Agatha's senior year, and though the two cousins had never been close before that, one year had been long enough for them to develop a close, almost sisterly bond. In Jenny’s case, she even wanted… a little more out of it, though she’d never mentioned such to Agatha. Come to think of it, the day the older girl left out of state to go to college was the day that Jenny's attitude began to sour. Just like that, now that the danger duo was back together, Jenny felt like a thick fog of apathy was lifting from her.
 
 
“I thought you still had another year before you got your bachelor's degree!” Jenny squealed.
 
 
“And I thought you'd be moping at home, based on what your mom told me.” replied Agatha, playfully. “But naw. Gotta love pre-existing credit. Still waiting for the graduation ceremony, but that's a ways off. Looking forward to the food?”
 
 
Jenny nodded. “I guess we're having mystery meat. Something about your mom forgetting to pick it up?”
 
 
Agatha smiled. An unusually impish smile that also carried with it a hint of lasciviousness. “Well, it's not a mystery to me. Dad told me what he's doing. I'm… super excited actually~”
 
 
Jenny tilted her head. Much like herself, Agatha adored girlmeat. Still, Jenny had never known her to get this… excited, over things before.
 
 
—
 
 
By and large, the party seemed to go on without a hitch. Now that the little discrepancy was taken care of, and this had become common knowledge to everyone present, they went about socializing and partying with full confidence that the main event was coming soon. More importantly, Jenny could enjoy herself with someone who moved at her speed. It was fairly common knowledge that Byron occasionally liked to spice things up with a bit of drama, so the added wait kept the air electric, and exciting.
 
 
It was easy to tell when the crowd thought something might be happening. There was a sudden wave of silence, as everyone quickly glanced over towards the front door. When it proved to be a false alarm, the volume would pick up again, and everyone would continue with their conversation.
 
 
Jenny however, had a more reliable indicator than anyone else. It had been anywhere from half an hour to an hour since she'd arrived, and Agatha had boastfully mentioned on several occasions that she'd have to head in to help her dad with the… final preparations. Jenny could always read her like a book. The growing excitement on the college girl's face was practically a completion meter.
 
 
Sure enough, once Agatha was certain that nobody was listening in, she leaned in to conspiratorially whisper into her friends ear. “Think it's just about time. You ready for a real treat?”
 
 
Jenny simply bit her lip and nodded. With that, before another word could be spoken, she was darting through the crowd and into the house, like a woman on a mission. It was only then that Jenny's imagination really started to go wild. It wasn't… Agatha, who'd be the piece-de-resistance, was it? No, of course not. The girl was a predator through and through. She wouldn't be this excited about it all, if that was the case. Right?
 
 
The girl's mind continued to wander in curiosity while she waited. In fact it was picking up speed with more and more outlandish theories about who the mystery feast could be while she waited. As much as she begrudgingly had to admit she did enjoy these little hoorahs, not having someone to talk to made time pass agonizingly slowly once again. Not to mention that the suspense of it all was killing her.
 
 
Finally, there was another cloud of hushedness that settled over the crowd. This time, there were three distinct silhouettes visible through the window. Two standing upright, and one unmistakable horizontal between them. The poor bitch was already skewered, it seemed. Normally Byron preferred the theatrics of spearing girls in public, but it got old pretty quickly if they were noisy and overly resistant. One time he'd made it about halfway through, before the pig stood up and tried running. Jenny couldn't help but hear Benny Hill music in her head, as the doomed girl led everyone on a merry chase.
 
 
Just then, the door rapidly swung open, with an overproud looking Agatha holding the front end of the pole, walking pretentiously forward with the gait of some sort of honor guard. This gave Jenny a bit of a chuckle, but that quickly faded away, at the sight of the blonde, karen-haircutted, busty sow that was bouncing on the pole behind her.
 
 
“Oh. My. God.” Jenny's jaw hit the floor. “Aunt Dixie?!”
 
 
The skewered woman’s eyes darted to stare pleadingly at Jenny. Even tightly bound to the pole as she was, she managed more than a few good, wobbling bounces, hoping to gain the attention of someone… Anyone who might be sympathetic to her plight. If nothing else, now Jenny knew how a replacement had been found so easily. She couldn’t help but marvel all the same. Uncle Byron must have been pretty miffed to go through with this.
 
 
Aunt Dixie was the textbook definition of a trophy wife. Uncle Byron had married her with every intent to show off his means. The well bred southern belle somehow always managed to look like she’d walked right off of a fashion runway, but one often doubted if she was even capable anything more than preening and watching television. Even as she neared forty, she continued to turn heads with ease, and it was no secret that she reveled in the attention of young men in particular. She and Agatha had never quite gotten along, even in the best of times, and that explained the girl’s eagerness about everything, Jenny mused.
 
The crowd parted like a biblical sea as the poor animal was paraded around the yard like a legendary fisherman’s catch. No amount of muffled whimpering or doe-eyed begging swayed anyone in the crowd. Truthfully, every woman knew perfectly well how useless it was to try, but there, in the often literal heat of it all, what else was there to do? Apologize? Try to reason with the cook? The fact that their lips were almost occupied with a stainless steel rod left that out of the question.
 
 
Agatha was hamming every second of the show. Fluttering her eyes and bobbing up and down as if she were in a circus act. Most in the crowd wouldn't notice, but Jenny certainly did. She'd known the girl never was very close with her mother, but she'd never imagined just how much of a treat roasting the bitch would be to her.
 
 
Dixie seemed painfully aware of this fact as well. Every moment her eyes weren't locked with some mocking partygoer, they would stare ashamedly at her daughter's backside. Was she feeling guilt? Fear that Agatha might be particularly sadistic? Perhaps… discovering something about herself far too late?
 
 
The crowd went quiet as the duo approached the well used pair of supports in the center of the yard, which stood at either end of a moderately deep pit, filled with charcoal. This only brought Dixie's pathetic, bouncing struggles and desperate whimpers all the more to light. It seemed, even the attention whore could have too much attention. Every motion she made rippled through her perfectly curvy body, in particular sending her dangling melons bobbing like a pair of overstuffed pillows.
 
 
This… was a guilty pleasure many men and women shared. Watching the panic rise in a meatgirl as they realized this was it. For all her moaning and groaning back at home, Jenny particularly loved to take note of the little details. The way Aunt Dixie's eyes widened… The way her pupils dilated, and she futilely twisted her body in the direction opposite the pit. Seeing the first of a woman's final moments like this… It was intoxicating.
 
 
Jenny’s next words flew out of her mouth before she could even process what she was saying.”U-uncle Byron? Do you need some…”
 
“Help?” The man smiled warmly as he finished her sentence for her. “You know… as a matter of fact, I think I could. Once Missy and I get this sow turning, why don’t you and her ensure she stays moist and seasoned hmm?”
 
 
Agatha rolled her eyes, though she didn’t stop smiling in the slightest herself. “Missy” had always been his nickname for her, ever since she was a toddler. It always felt… like he still saw her as that little girl, rather than the post grad student she was now. Still… in her own way she loved it. It was his sign that he still loved her. Apparently more than he loved her mother, it seemed.
 
“Mmmgh!” Dixie let out a deeply vitriolic grunt at being called nothing more than a pig, though she quickly deflated.
 
 
Jenny could see the pole bow slightly downward as the woman sighed pathetically immediately afterwards, perfectly mirroring the last of the woman’s pride collapsing. Something tickled at her nether regions at the thought, but for the moment, she had to restrain herself. Part of the enjoyment was coming from the superior feeling she had to this piece of meat. Showing her own weakness would ruin everything.
 
 
“So…” Byron gave his now ex wife a hearty slap on the rear, pulling an indignant, muffled squeal from the woman. “First things first. “Let’s keep her basted. I left a jug of oil and herb mix just at the foot of the pit here.” With that, he grabbed the mentioned container, and proceeded to dribble a generous amount of its contents onto his hand. “Bitch was wet all her life. I don’t see any reason to stop now.”
 
 
The crowd erupted into mocking laughter at that. If Aunt Dixie wasn’t sure if she could feel any more humiliated before, she was now.
 
 
Uncle Byron then proceeded to slather the aromatic mixture onto Dixie’s well rounded backside, being sure to squeeze and taunt as he went. The man was clearly fed up with the woman, and made no attempts to spare her feelings. “Now, obviously, once the fire gets going, you’re gonna use those stainless steel brushes over there.” He nodded towards a nearby table, on which a plethora of utensils were resting. “For now though… Knock yourselves out girls. Just uh… You know. Good etiquette and all that. Wash your hands first.”
 
 
—
 
 
The sound of running water wasn’t quite enough to drown out the sounds of the party outside, but it was distant enough to allow Jennifer and Agatha to speak privately for the first time since… the reveal. Jenny had a mountain of questions, and Agatha had a valley of answers. The two would perfectly level each other out, that is… until they were missed. Both had a very visual example of what shirking duties looked like, just outside the window, squirming over a pit like the helpless trapped animal she was.
 
 
“I can’t believe we’re really gonna eat your mom!” Jenny was the first to mention the elephant in the room, though Agatha was more than willing to talk about it.
 
 
“I know right?!” Agatha threw her hands into the air, slinging soapy water everywhere as she did so. “I had no idea till just before you got here, and you know what? I’m super stoked!” She looked outside, smirking as the doomed woman entered another bout of wild bouncing.
 
 
The sow didn’t need to have a clear line of sight to know she was being inspected from afar by a bunch of horny teens across the road. Knowing her, she’d probably teased them with her body for years, letting them know they could look, but not touch. In some ways, it wasn’t all that different now then, was it?
 
 
Agatha finished drying off her hands, then folded them under her breasts. “You wanna know the best part? I heard the bitch talking about getting me over a fire a while ago over the phone. She didn’t think I heard her but her obnoxious voice carries more than she thinks, I guess. Err… more than she thought. She won’t be using it anymore.”
 
 
Jenny snickered, then polished off her own hygiene routine. “I know you’ve probably dreamt about this sort of thing since you were little. Aunt Dixie didn’t exactly endear herself to you.” The girl rolled her shoulders. “Well, should we head back out? Don’t wanna keep the crowd waiting.”
 
 
“One sec.” Agatha said before rushing over to the nearby refrigerator. “I know I put it in here somewhere… Ah! Here we go.” The girl turned around slowly, cradling some sort of purple fruit in her hands for a moment before showing it off.
 
 
“A dragonfruit?” Jenny’s eyes widened, but she smiled nonetheless. “Damn girl, that’s cold.”
 
 
“I know right?” Agatha beamed proudly. “I really wanna see her twist~”
 
 
“Sure your dad will be okay with it? I know he’s usually pretty particular about his recipes.”
 
 
“He’ll be fine.” Agatha threw one wrist dismissively while holding the fruit in another. “I did some research into it. It’s fairly common. Mixes weirdly well with the umami taste of femme apparently.”
 
 
“Well, if you say so.”
 
 
—
 
 
The crowd quieted down as the two re-emerged minutes later. It wasn’t a judgemental silence. Rather, an excited one. The lighting of the fire was always a favorite moment for fine diners who enjoyed female flesh, and there was only one step between now and then.
 
 
Agatha was the first to place a hearty slap on her mother’s vulnerable, waiting ass, sending small globs of oil flinging through the air from the rebound. The squeal given by the night’s entertainment would have been delightful enough, but she wasn’t done. Another firm, wet swat landed on the other side, and the following cry was somehow even more indignant, and more pained.
 
 
Jenny, for her part, started a bit more softly, slowly coating her hand and then smearing it over Dixie’s soft, voluptuous udders. The poor cougar could only stare pathetically at her niece out of the corner of her eye, and Jenny only responded with an obviously disingenuous, comforting smile. She might not have had the same contempt for the pig that Agatha did, but she’d always been intensely annoyed by Dixie’s constant smarmy attitude. This was a sort of… suburban justice to be sure.
 
 
Agatha’s fingers pinched, poked and prodded at every opportunity they were given. She reveled in every little reaction her mother gave. Though Dixie was perfectly aware that she was feeding into her daughter’s enjoyment, she was far too fallen to panic to do anything but* react emotionally. The pole that currently passed all the way through her severely limited her movement, but she nonetheless managed to buck and bob with every slap. Soon enough the woman was as glistening a greased pig as anyone present could have hoped for. There was just… one little matter left to attend to before lighting a match. Jenny knelt down in front of her aunt’s face, giving a faux pout, while Agatha leaned over underneath her mother’s waiting goosh.
 
 
“Aww… Not having as much fun as everyone else, aunty?” Jenny asked in a pitiful tone. “I know Agatha’s having the time of her life.” Agatha then began teasing the dragonfruit against Dixie’s helpless womanhood, being sure to place the more… scaly side against her clit.
 
 
The woman immediately stiffened up on the spit. The fruit’s stiff outer texture felt absolutely alien against her most sensitive bits, and Agatha was making every effort to focus one of the spikes’ tips against her. “Mpph mggh!” Once more she looked into the crowd, hoping to find a bit of sympathy, but there was none to be found. The most resistant thing she could even dare try for relief, was to worm her way forward along the pole, and away from Agatha’s cruel hands. Not that this really helped her. Agatha needed only scoot forward to catch up.
 
 
“Oh take your stuffing like a real pig, would you mom? Have some pride in your work for once~” Agatha’s bitter words hadn’t even finished exiting her lips before she cruelly shoved the fruit between Dixie’s outer lips.
 
 
“MMNNNNGH!!!” If Dixie thought the play with her love button was uncomfortable, this was another thing entirely. Agatha had oriented the fruit such that the scales were sandpapery against her soft inner walls. The thing felt like what she imagined a cat’s dick might, gripping and resisting every inch it moved forward. “Hmmnnh! NNNGH!”
 
 
This only resulted in a new roar of laughter from everyone present. If Uncle Byron didn’t know about his daughter’s extra ingredient before, he did now. Fortunately for her, and unfortunately for his ex-wife, he didn’t seem to mind.
 
 
Dixie's near-hyperventilating grunts and wheezes were made all the more labored by the massive, uncomfortably thick pole the jutted from her lips, and was only met with applause from the crowd that had gathered around to savor the worst moments of her life. By design, the thing was actually hollow, with interspersed holes throughout to allow her to breathe, if only barely. Many purveyors of femme flesh often claimed that love roasters were more savory because they were filled with adrenaline. While this was seriously debated in the community, one thing everybody agreed on was that the showmanship of roasting a woman alive definitely elevated the experience. Well, for everyone but the sow of course.
 
 
“Mmmggh!” Somehow her daughter had managed to slide the dragonfruit nearly all the way up Dixie's love tunnel, causing her to feel both the pain of its texture, and being unnaturally full down below. She felt Agatha's hands grip her at the waist and then pull back down along the spit's length, instantly undoing what little progress she'd made. And then… She felt… nothing. Nothing but the cold stares of everyone around her who'd now gone eerily quiet.
 
 
At least, that was what Jenny imagined was going through the cougar's head in all this. She didn't have to be a mind-reader to understand everything that was going through the woman's mind. She could simply imagine it all in vivid detail, and that thrilled her. Just behind her, Agatha stood with a box of matches in hand.
 
 
Drawing out the moment for as long as she could, Agatha slowly pulled one of the sticks out, and then held it just in front of the striking surface. Jenny could see Dixie's eyes widening on realization at what was happening, and began a new dance of desperate writhing. When the unmistakable hiss of the stick being lit hit her ears however, she immediately flinched, remaining frozen in panic until…
 
 
Jenny stepped back. Not wanting to be met with the initial woosh of flame, and many of the gawkers did the same. Agatha held the little flame for as long as she could without letting it die, and then… finally… dropped it onto the coals.
 
 
FWOOOMP!
 
 
Immediately Dixie found renewed energy with which to struggle as the red and yellow tongues leapt up to taste her from below. Much to her humiliated dismay, everyone around cheered loudly, unconcerned with the stinging pain that covered her dangling breasts.
 
 
Jenny smiled broadly. The woman was in utter panic, and Jenny was wrapped in sadistic glee just imagining how heavy the realization that this was really happening, weighed on the bitch. There was always this sort of… survivor's guilt that went along with not being the one over the fire. Always this twinge of “What of that were me?” but for her, this only added to the tingling sensation that settled between her legs. It was like playing russian roulette. The danger of it all was absolutely thrilling. Sure, the odds were in her favor, but what if she played the game one too many times?
 
 
Agatha left her mother to squirm for a moment, while Jenny continued to stand in fascination. She returned shortly after with two large rubber brushes. It took a few good jabs to shake Jenny out of her fixation.
 
 
“Wh-wha?” Jenny blinked several times, then stood a bit dumbfounded as her friend pointed the hard end of the brush in her direction.
 
 
“Don't just stand there. Let's make sure she doesn't dry out.” Agatha reminded the girl. “We did promise we'd help.”
 
 
“O-oh… Right.” Jenny blushed slightly. “Sorry. I kinda got… caught up in everything.”
 
 
“Not nearly as caught up as she is. I promise ya that.” Agatha's brush slid over Dixie's plump rump, the rubber bristles bending along its delightful roundness. Despite her insistence on getting down to business, Agatha couldn't help but stop to savor every shiver or buck her mother gave, and this wasn't lost on Jenny.
 
 
“Alright miss down-to-business. Shouldn't we start thinking about turning her?”
 
 
Dixie gave a muffled, yet pleading cry. She had been frontside-down for a long time. Her tits were beyond stinging, so close to the fire.
 
 
“Sure. We'll attach the crank handle once we're done with this bout of oil.” Agatha said, much to her mother's dismay. “And I'm not really one to keep score but… I'm way ahead of you~”
 
 
Jenny chuckled, then dipped her brush n the nearby oil before sliding a fresh layer between Dixie's shoulders. Briefly, she drew a mocking smiley-face that remained only for a few seconds before dispersing into a single, sloppy puddle. She then knelt down slightly, to run a streak down one of Dixie's soft, increasingly reddening breasts. The poor thing must have been in intense agitation, and that was exactly what Jenny loved to see.
 
 
For the tiniest of moments, her imagination ran with the image that this wasn't Dixie, but Agatha. The two might have been best friends, but there was something about seeing a proud carnivore like Agatha on the receiving end that gave Jenny a blend of emotions that made her feel alive. What if it had been she herself instead? Would Agatha feel the same way?
 
 
That last thought was enough to overwhelm Jenny, causing her to fall backwards. No doubt giving her shorts a grass stain that her mother would be none-too happy about. It was sensually overwhelming for a girl her age, but she had to pick herself up. She had a job to do that didn't involve being delicious personally… yet.
 
 
Jenny took a few moments to orient herself again, and went right back to polishing off her aunt’s shoulders and arms until they were coated in a delectable looking sheen that Byron could be proud of. Then, much to Dixie’s relief, Agatha proceeded to slide the turning shaft onto the pole, and slowly turn her around. The woman’s breasts splayed out to the sides as gravity tried to pull them down, but Byron had taught his daughter a thing or two, and she’d managed to delicately balance her mother’s weight, preventing her from sliding to either side.
 
Now it was that ass’s turn to met the unrelenting brush of the flames beneath. Those wide, berthing hips which had only born one child in all this time, were well on their way to being nothing but a rack on which her meatiest steaks were held, now. While the woman still had her admirers in the crowd, looking on from a distance, most of them had shifted back to mingling, though they were still perfectly able to enjoy the scent of roasted milf as it permeated the entire backyard. That left only her daughter and her niece to be her company.
 
Jenny took Dixie’s lower half this time, sliding to the other side of the pit to begin layering on the next bout of oil. From this vantage, she could easily enjoy every twitch, and every slight motion her aunt made. Little relaxations of appreciation, as the cold oil relieved the stinging, burning pain on her front side, and little jolts of pain every time a tongue of fire leapt up at her. So far, the bitty was hanging on to life for quite a while. Jenny expected it of a selfish woman like her. She’d seen a few willing pigs absolutely swear they’d set a new record, only to croak at a few minutes, tops. It was always the fearful ones. The panicky ones who clung stubbornly to the idea that they’d be rescued. She guessed that gave them a bit more sticking power, and as her brush continued to travel all over Dixie’s crotch, she couldn’t help but wonder which she would be. Sure, she absolutely loved imagining such situations, but when push came to shove, she was also dreadfully afraid of them.
 
“Still holding in there mom?” agatha chuckled to herself as she tickled the woman’s nipples with her brush for a bit. “Good~ You know I love a show.”
 
“Mghmmm! Mmmph!” Dixie grunted unintelligibly, and managed a few good wiggles in spite of the pole that held her straight.
 
“I don’t know what you said but…” Agatha gave a stern look, as though she were mimicking a mother disciplining her child. “Don’t you backtalk me, pig!” She looked to Jenny. “Give her a good whirl for that!”
 
 
Jenny laughed, then gave an overly enthusiastic salute. “Yes ma’am!” With that, she gripped the handle hard, and spun it as fast as she dared. Oil flung in all directions, and briefly, centrifugal force sent Dixie’s breasts out as far as they could physically go.
 
Dixie’s eyes bobbed side to side once she was finally slowed down again, and took a while to find Agatha afterwards. She then gave a pathetic whimper. Not one of pain, but rather more of humiliation, as just about everyone on the yard responded with a hearty laugh.
 
 
“Maybe that’ll teach you.” Agatha smirked.
 
 
“Easy on the ingredients girls.” Byron gave a longsuffering sigh. “We want the final display to look good too, you know. Without wasting too much oil.”
 
 
“Sorry dad.” Agatha rubbed the back of her neck. “We just got a little excited I guess.”
 
 
“Well, keep most of your excitement for the actual meal. Cover up her front again, roll her back over, then come help me with some of the side dishes why don't you?” He then looked to his niece. “Jenny? You just keep her spinning for a while. Slowly.”
 
 
Jenny simply nodded, and helped Agatha grease Dixie's front up again. This time, under the threat of another scolding from her uncle, the job went by much quicker. Soon enough, Agatha was departing to help her dad grill a few corncobs on the portable tabletop grill he'd placed down, and Jenny was left alone with the meat.
 
 
At first, Jenny managed to keep to her task quite easily. Agatha had placed the crank on the side opposite Dixie's mouth, which gave the girl a tantalizingly easy look at the pig's most sensitive bits. She occupied herself drawing imaginary lines all over the woman's pussy and meaty backside of where she thought the steaks might be cut from. In time though, this became too mundane for her. Not only watching all this, but actively being part of it had just about driven her over the edge. It was like playing with orgasm denial, only she couldn't decide when to pop it herself. Someone or something else had to do it first. She could barely stand it. She needed just a little more… visual stimulation, and she knew just who to get it from. Who was gonna know if she poked the pig a bit with some questions?
 
 
Having made her decision, Jenny whipped around the pit to look her aunt straight in the eyes once again. Though her body was looking a good deal more pink than before, the woman's face was still largely untouched thanks to where Byron had pushed her. It was all about presentation. Keeping Dixie's styled hair intact would make for a much more pleasant dining experience.
 
 
“H-hi Aunt Dixie.”
 
 
Dixie's eyes fluttered open to meet Jenny's, and she once more gave the same pleading look she'd given several times.
 
 
“So uh… You finally got yourself on the wrong side of the fork, huh?”
 
 
Dixie simply blinked in response.
 
 
“You know… I'm not gonna lie. You always were pretty cold… but you know… also hot…” Jenny's tone was somewhere between that of an awkward teenager and a fuck-drunk college student. “That's why… seeing you like this…”
 
 
Dixie frowned as Jenny leaned forward to whisper in her ear.
 
 
“It really kinda… turns me on… you know?”
 
 
At this, Dixie whimpered loudly. Of course people enjoyed seeing a naked woman helpless like this. It was exactly where culture had shifted in recent generations. That didn't make her niece's bold-faced admission, or the questions she knew would follow, any less… weird.
 
 
Jenny leaned back again. “So like… I gotta ask… are you… kinda turned on too? Your cooch is nice and puffy but… could be the heat I guess.”
 
 
Dixie's brow furrowed. “Mnnhh mmngh!”
 
 
Jenny smiled. “Yeah… Yeah I got it…” Truthfully she didn't want an exact answer. She loved the mystery of it all. The act of asking the questions was where the girl really got off. “Yeah. That's intense. Did you… you know… wonder what it would be like too? When you watched other girls go?”
 
 
“Mnhhhh!”
 
 
It was clear that the mature pig wanted to say something. Possibly something not very nice, exactly. It didn't matter though. She had no real voice anymore. What was more, Jenny caught the woman's eyes traveling to the side, looking at the source of a shadow over Jenny's shoulder.
 
 
Jenny quickly looked back. It was her mother. The sun had gone far enough in the sky that shadows were starting to get pretty long. She was just far enough away that Jenny was… fairly certain she couldn't hear her, but then why was she looking in his direction? Just hungry? That had to be it. Still, it caused her heart to leap enough to cancel her little conversation for now. Just like that she was back on the other side of the pit, turning the pole like a good chef's assistant.
 
 
The idea that Amber might have heard her last question filled Jenny with a healthy dose of fear. What if that made her… reconsider her daughter's future? Frustratingly, this concern didn't alleviate Jenny's growing libido. In fact it only supplemented it. She couldn't risk that again though. She'd just have to tough it out.
 
 
Yeah… right… Like she could just ignore the need between her legs like that. The angel and devil on her shoulder weren't going to agree on a course of action for some time.
 
 
The basting she gave her aunt only helped so much. It was nice, and somewhat relieving to touch a hot… curvy cougar like this, but she needed a distraction. Now.
 
 
A quick glance back at the mini grill showed that Uncle Byron had left his daughter to polish off the rest of the side dishes, so he could mingle with the crowd. Fair enough. It was his party after all. Still, that meant Agatha had spent much longer working on those silly corncobs. Fortunately, if the empty plate beside her were any indication, she was finally almost done.
 
 
—
 
 
Frustratedly, Jenny continued to stew in her own juices, metaphorically speaking, for another quarter hour, while Dixie was made to literally roast in hers. It seemed Agatha had a few aluminum bags full of parmesan coated vegetables to add to the feast. There were, after all, a lot of mouths to feed, and only so much of Dixie to go around.
 
 
Jenny’s mind raced with increasingly anxious intrusive thoughts. Were they testing her? Seeing if she was a candidate for a future roast? Was… Agatha in on it all? No. Of course not. She was just letting her imagination run wild.
 
 
Looking down, by now Dixie’s once perfectly porcelain skin had turned a bright, exhaustive red, which made her almost gleam in the light of the fire, refracted by the oils all over her flesh… The woman was still breathing, albeit increasingly shallowly as time went on. Jenny, if nothing else, had been consistent in her spinning duties. With the exception of a few darker spots on her thighs, ass, and breasts, the milf was an even color all throughout. Though Jenny’s own… inner battle continued to haunt her, the combination of both the sight and smell of her roasting aunt was finally beginning to make her hungry as well. Lust combined with appetite wasn’t that uncommon a mix of feelings, since the world had normalized cannibalism like this, and Jenny was happy to have something else occupy her mind… in part at least.
 
 
After what seemed like a brief eternity, Agatha finally returned to the firepit, smelling faintly of the mixed seasonings she’d heaped onto the veggies. “Can you believe it?” she grumped, pouting as she approached. “We’re cooking my friggin’ mom today. I only get a chance to do this once, and they have me heating up corn and squash.” She took a deep breath. “Is she still kicking at least?”
 
 
“Barely. Jenny muttered, before smiling. “Though I’m pretty sure she missed you~”
 
 
“I bet.” Agatha smiled back. “Hey. Lemme have your basting brush for a sec.”
 
 
Once Jenny complied, she reached forward to rub its many, soft bristles over Dixie’s slowly browning womanhood. “How about that mom? Did you miss me, slut?”
 
 
For the first time since Jenny’s little… interview, Dixie gave a loud groan, followed by a buck that bounced the skewer up and down, if only briefly before her energy dropped.
 
 
“Haha! That’s what I thought.” Agatha continued to torment the woman’s sex for another few moments. “Ever the attention whore.”
 
 
Jenny felt a mild twinge of jealousy towards the doomed woman. Not at the fact that she was… well… doomed of course. At least… she was fairly certain. More along the lines that she was getting that kind of attention from Agatha. Sexual… fascinated attention. She'd never really considered it before now but… with her mind running wild like it was now, the thought hit her like a ton of bricks. Did she… like Agatha? Like… like-like her?
 
 
But… she was her cousin. That was… icky… wasn't it? Jenny took a good look down at her aunt. The pathetic thing was breathing heavily, and shifting from a deep red hue to almost golden brown anyway. She was allowed to get excited about seeing this one naked, at least in this context. Was it really so bad… digging her cousin?
 
 
“Hey uh… Agatha?” The call escaped her mouth before she could really muster up a game plan. “Did you ever… meet someone back at the university?”
 
 
“I met lots of people Jen.” answered the girl as she flicked a roasting titty with the brush. “Gonna have to elaborate on that question.”
 
 
“I mean like… someone special.”
 
 
Agatha stopped for a moment. “Jenny… Are you..?”
 
 
Immediately Jenny's mind began sounding the alarms, and she instinctively attempted to back out. She gave the older cousin a slug to the shoulder, followed by a hearty laugh. “Aww. I'm just looking out for ya.” she then answered, trying far too hard to sound casual.
 
 
Agatha rubbed the assaulted shoulder for a second, before giving a broad smile that she failed to hide. “Nah. Didn't get a guy or girl. Ashamed as I am to admit it, I actually stuck pretty boringly to the books.”
 
 
“Got a few salts and seasonings to add.” Agatha continued, as the faintest smile cracked her expression again, as she looked into Jenny’s eyes. It was as if a switch was flipped in that moment. Whether that was good or bad or… both, was yet to be seen. “Then it’s just a matter of letting her finish up. Dad handed me this.” The girl produced a glass and metal shaker, full of pink salts. “He said a FAIR amount mingled with the oil. Use our judgment and all that.”
 
 
“Oh? W-well good on you for not getting tied down, you know?” Jenny cleared her through to fill the awkward pause that followed. “S-so… anyway, what's next?”
 
 
“Next is some good ol’ fashioned herbs and seasoning.” said Agatha, as she produced a glass shaker full of pink Himalayan salts. She then proceeded to drizzle a bit of the fancy, shiny granules all over her mother’s ass. In the slowly waning afternoon sun, they seemed to catch the light just right, calling even more attention to the woman’s tantalizing… titilating form. Much to Dixie’s dismay, this led to a new wave of partygoers staring at her. Delighting in her plight.
 
 
Jenny added her own flare to it all, sprinkling a slight, but unmistakable swirled pattern on the woman’s back. Byron always did harp on the importance of presentation. She might not have been a professional, but she had at least some idea of what just… looked nice.
 
 
—
 
 
Dixie's pathetic, minimal moans had given way to nothing more than a consistent, mouthwatering sizzling noise. The oils that had been so generously slathered all over her, which once provided cooling relief from the heat, now contributed to evenly crisping the outermost meat on her once perfect skin. Not that Dixie minded terribly. She was beyond caring about much of anything at this point. Her eyes, full of alert fear some half an hour ago, now stared dully forward at nothing.
 
 
Agatha was of course disappointed that the sadistic part of her fun was over, but it was Jenny that truly missed the live part of the live cooking process. She'd had an unreasonable amount of sensual fun imagining just what was going through her aunt's mind in all this. Now, there was an absolute stillness that was much more certain.
 
 
That having been said, there was also a perfectly fetishistic angle to enjoy seeing the once haughty bitch brought to the final, low stage of being a longpig. No matter how normalized the process had become. It was still primally delightful to see another person conquered so thoroughly like this, and something about seeing it happen to her aunt of all people just… ratcheted up the weight of it all to eleven for Jenny. That was what absolutely hit her the hardest, and what would leave this particular barbecue in her memory for the rest of her days.
 
 
Here was a woman who'd been a part of Jenny's life for pretty much all of it. She remembered the way Dixie had cooed at her when she was just barely old enough to form cognizant thoughts, and then the way she'd looked down on her for her childhood and tween years. Finally, the way Dixie almost treated her like… lesser competition for the attention of teenage boys. All that buildup, now to see the bitty steaming, still on a pole, reduced to meat… A meal to be enjoyed and talked over…
 
 
Jenny felt as though the slightest stimulation would have sent her over the edge. She just had to step away to take care of this. And with that, she disappeared into the house for several minutes, only to return just in time to see Uncle Byron and Agatha hefting the gorgeous font of meat onto his favorite silver platter at the center of one of the tables.
 
 
With a bit of effort, they next slid the pole back, back… Out of the woman's abused ass. While Agatha planted the pole into the ground, near the roasting pit that Dixie had suffered over, Uncle Byron set about shifting his ex wife's body into a delectable suckling pig pose. Only a seasoned expert such as him could manage folding her legs underneath her, and her arms into propping her head up, with minimal tears on the now stiff, crispy outer layer of the woman's meat. With the aid of a meat stand, he'd be sure that even as her wings were plucked and carved later, her head would remain perfectly still, with the apple garnish he next slid into her mouth unmoved. It was cliche, to be sure, but cliches often became such because people enjoyed them, and he was nothing if not a people pleaser.
 
 
As was to be expected, Dixie's round, golden-brown ass was the most popular request at the start of chow time. Jenny, Agatha and Byron each helped themselves to generous portions. Many also added the fatty tissue of the pig's enormous breasts to their servings as well, letting it drizzle delicious juices onto their steaks.
 
 
When Dixie's backside was reduced to her visible hip bones however, and her tits had been carved until she was utterly flat, the patrons requests got a bit more diverse. With Agatha's assistance, both drumsticks were cleanly plucked out, and quickly sliced into round bone-ins to be divied up. A few… certain types, made very specific calls for certain fingers and toes, whilst two lucky diners were treated to the entire remainder of Dixie’s arms. Some of the more experienced gourmands enjoyed thin slices of the sow's belly, adding them atop butter toasted bread and hucow cheese that Byron had prepared earlier.
 
 
Finally, it was decided that Agatha would be the one to enjoy her mother's womanhood. The door she came into the world from was now a single, delicious portion of a meal. Jenny was a bit disappointed that she wasn't the winner, but really, she understood she had no real right to the most special cut. At the very least, she was able to enjoy Agatha's dragonfruit stuffing, which had been left to steam in the meat's feminine juices for so long, resulting in a delicate balance of sweet and umami flavors.
 
 
—
 
 
In the end, with little more than scraps of edible meat left on Dixie's bones, many of the partiers shifted to playing outdoor games in the waning sunlight. A bit of volleyball and cornhole were the most popular, but magnetic board games also saw a fair bit of use. Nobody seemed to care that a woman, albeit a snooty one, had given her life for their meal. Now was the time to relax and enjoy themselves. To spend time with others who weren't piggies. Byron was careful to remove and preserve his former lover's head, which he'd dutifully instructed to keep out of the worst heat. It would join a growing collection in his office, though he was running out of room.
 
 
For Jenny's part, the drive home was quiet. She had other things on her mind, as did her mother. The moment the girl was able to, she made her way to the shower for a bit of round two, the day's events playing back in her mind photographically…