Disclaimer: The following is fiction. The story’s content does not represent the writer’s beliefs, opinions, or attitudes. This story is intended for adult entertainment only. The characters and events depicted in this work are fictional. The author does not condone or promote unlawful activity as described in the story. By continuing to read this work, you acknowledge that you are an adult who wishes to read works of fantasy and fiction for the purpose only of fantasy. All the characters in this story are adults. They may portray different ages for the fictional character they are depicting, but they remain adults at all times.
Writer: Regis
Subject: ENGLISH WAITRESS 2
Story Codes: Erotic Horror
Synopsis: I believed my junior high school counsellor, Ms Marks, had sent me to an interview for a summer job as a waitress. As it turned out, she was a recruiter for permanent workers, young ladies in servitude, and the women she sent me to, owners of a fine dining restaurant, were licensed cunt-holders, people who legally owned their employees. They needed naked young waitresses, and that was to be my new role in life. I had just turned thirteen, and it turned out that was an unlucky number for me. All I got to wear was a tight collar, spike-heeled shoes, and a horsehair tail up my bum. People thought that was sexy to watch as it wagged while I walked. The ladies who owned my rights made me and the other girls work naked, and sometimes outfitted us as human horses, which in our cases were Equestricunts. I do have to admit I felt quite sexy outfitted as a naked horse, with a nude child riding me as I served the guests. I worked at garden parties and indoor events where naked little girls fought each other to entertain the guests. Some of their fights were quite exciting, and sometimes intentionally lethal. I have to admit, when there was exciting entertainment, I loved my job.
English Waitress 2
It was a beautiful sunny day, and my new owners, the two beautiful women who were licensed cunt holders, were hosting a party in the garden behind their restaurant. Three of us serving girls were selected to work that afternoon, and because it was a special occasion, we were to work especially. It was an equestrian theme.
The three of us were fitted with a broad belt around our waists, and mounted on the back of it was an upward curving post that resembled an erotically arched dildo. It was a thick, curved artificial penis with a flared head on the end. Little did I suspect that these were intended to be used as saddles, and we were to be ridden.
Next, they put a ball gag in our mouths, and they were so big it was all they could do to get them behind our teeth with our mouths stretched wide open. I’ve never been so humiliated in my entire life. The crowd of guests that had gathered, all in formal wear, were watching our preparation with interest.
When I was a little girl, I had been taken by my nanny out in the country to an estate, where I was stripped naked and seated on the back of a naked horsewoman, or Equestricunt, as they are commonly called. These are usually ladies of leisure, the unwanted concubines of gentlemen, who, when they are no longer interesting, are retired to serve as horses at the racetrack.
The ladies in harness, naked except for saddles, tails and stirrups suspended by chains from the stout rings in their breasts, were lined up, and one of us, naked little girls, was placed aboard each of them. We were to be their jockeys! We were given stiff leather riding crops and told to use them liberally to control the human beasts.
We were required to parade the cunts past the gentleman gamblers, to allow them to evaluate us for wagering purposes. This was more exciting than anything I’d been permitted to do ever before. I felt empowered, and I was determined I was going to win. I had a fine mount, a blonde, highly fit woman with large swinging breasts. I liked that her huge tits were easily reached with my whip.
I stood in the stirrups, and she screamed beautifully as the rings in her breasts took my weight. I smacked her bare buttocks with my crop, and the big bitch leapt forward. This was amazing! I was in charge of a woman as her rider, and could make her do whatever I pleased!
This was so exciting that when I felt my bare cunnie rubbing against the leather of her saddle, it was becoming quite moist from my excitement. It was so long ago that I don’t remember much of that day, or of the races, but I remember the thrill of whipping her naked cunt, buttocks and swinging breasts as we raced.
Now it was I who was naked and saddled. Instead of a string around our heads to hold the ball gag in place, there were reins attached to them, like they were simplified bridles. Wealthy men with large estates often keep nude women as horses, and race them, but although I’d been a rider, I never thought I’d ever become an Equestricunt!
To complete our costumes, we were fitted with tiny hoof-boots, that forced us to walk up on tiptoe, like a ballerina! It was very difficult to move in them, but we managed by walking around for a few minutes to get used to them. I stumbled at first, but before long I was surprised that I was able to get by reasonably well.
That changed quickly. Three nude eight-year-old girls wearing only cowboy hats and boots with spurs came forward, and with the help of wranglers, were lifted to sit on our backs. The dildos slid into and were firmly planted in their vaginas. I couldn’t believe it. The little girls were going to ride us like horses, as I’d once done when I was their age.
To make matters worse, they were each handed a riding crop with a broad flap of leather on the end. With the extra weight and shift in balance, all three of us found it difficult to walk in our little leather and steel tiptoe booties. With our center of gravity moved by the added weight on our backs, it was an ongoing challenge.
The young naked girls riding us on their bizarre dildo saddles made things worse by moving around, trying out their crops on us, lashing at any bare skin they could reach. They were doing a good job at keeping us off balance, and I came close to crashing to the ground twice when my cunt was struck.
Making things worse, we were now handed trays loaded with full champagne glasses, which we were expected to serve to the guests, who were delighted to see how their drinks would arrive. I’m certain only the British could think up such a perverse form of service.
We did our best, and because we were all athletic, we were able to handle it. Most of the guests were scattered on the lawn, and the bar was set up on the patio, which was flagstone. I found it easier to walk on the grass, but the evil little bitch riding on me had suddenly remembered her spurs and put them to work on my thighs, causing new troubles for me.
Because the ends of the rolling spurs didn’t have sharp points but little balls instead, they didn’t punch holes in my meat, but the girl put so much pressure on them that they hurt like hell! It was very hard not to spill the champagne in those narrow, tall little glasses, but somehow, I managed it.
Failure was out of the question. As I went further across the lawn, I saw something unusual. There was a pit of glowing coals near the other side, and a big shiny steel spit pole leaning on one of the two metal stands to hold it. They were planning a barbecue!
I don’t know why that sounded ominous, because I was getting the measure of this place. Sure enough, a chef with a white smock and a tall white chef’s hat appeared, along with two assistants, also in white smocks. They had between them one of the chubby naked pre-teen girls I had seen in the pen in the back.
I was sure the darling child was going to be spitted and roasted! I couldn’t stay and watch, which I desperately wanted to do. I made sure to return as quickly as possible, and when I did, the chef was holding the girl bent forward and steadying her.
His assistants were holding the long steel shaft and were working the tip between her buttocks, starting to push it into her anus. This was as horrible as anything I could imagine, and I knew they were going to go the whole way. It was then that I noticed all three men had nothing on beneath their smocks.
I gasped aloud as I saw their rigid penises sticking out. They were all sexually excited by the terrible thing they were doing! I could clearly see the holes in the end of their cocks were open, and there was a shiny bead of male sex spittle leaking from the end of each erection.
I could see why they were excited. The girl, a bit pudgy and no more than ten, was struggling and screaming at the top of her lungs. She also knew what they were doing, and she didn’t like it a bit. I could understand that. The steel spit was nearly two inches thick!
It was causing her great distress as it entered her colon. She was as certain as I was that the men had no intention of quitting once they got it going. She was going to be spit from her shaft-stretched little anus to her screaming mouth and more, ready for roasting!
I was also certain they would gut her before putting her over the bed of glowing coals. That’s how roasting was properly done. Otherwise, the contents of her viscera would be sure to contaminate her meat, so that she could not be safely consumed by the people attending.
With continued effort and determination, the two assistants finally achieved their goal when the end of the shaft emerged from the young girl’s mouth. Her screaming had stopped, but I could see from the movement of her eyes that she was not only alive but also fully awake.
One of the assistants held the shaft upright while the other left for a moment and returned holding a sharp butcher knife in one hand and a big plastic tub in the other. He placed the tub in front of the impaled young girl and handed the chef the big knife.
My tray was still half full of glasses, because the guests were all busy watching the chef at work, so I could stay and watch the unfolding of the outrageous atrocity. It was fascinating, and I didn’t want to miss a moment of it. The chef skillfully inserted the blade in her upper belly just below her sternum. With her mouth full of a steel shaft, she was unable to scream.
With a powerful arm, he applied his weight and ripped the sharp blade downward, opening the girl’s tummy all the way down through her navel and to the top of her clean, bare pubic mound. She had no control at this point, and a stream of her pee came spurting from her flared cunt.
The chef filled the large bucket with her tripe and properly cleaned her out. The assistants lifted the pole and set it on the supports so that she was now suspended over the brightly glowing coals. They were deep and would remain hot long after she was completely cooked.
That was the efficient way to roast a beast of any kind, even a human one, including a girl as young and tender as this pre-teen cunt. Within a minute, flame enveloped her head as her hair caught fire, and within another minute, bits of ash were all that remained of it.
She had no other body hair, and her body flesh began to gradually turn red. One of the assistants clamped a handle on the head end of the shaft while the other chained her ankles to the other end. This would allow them to turn her so that she cooks evenly.
They took turns slowly turning the handle, slowly rotating the young female human carcass, and the one not turning the spit brought out a butcher block on wheels. The chef brought from a drawer two large bottles of sauce, which he put on the top just as my last glass of champagne was taken by a guest.
THE END CHAPTER TWO