Suddenly, Hector took a step back, creating space between them, his sharp, menacing gaze piercing into Tom.
"Once I bind you, there is no turning back. You will become a long pig, one of the items in my menu." Hector said.
He held up a short, coarse, light cream colored rope in front of Tom.
The rope slowly descended, deliberately touching one of Tom's stiff, light brown nipples before dragging it slowly across the head of his wet, reddened penis. The weight of the rope pulled the erection down until it reached its limit, causing the sensitive glans to scrape away the rough fibers before reappearing. The rough texture and deliberate stimulation makes Tom's penis twitch violently.
Hector remains still, waiting.
The fear of death, rampant desire, and the desire to be hurt clashed violently inside Tom, surging into a turbulent undercurrent. His breathing became labored, his muscular chest rising and falling. He took a deep breath, trying to grasp a sliver of rationality, then quietly brought his hands behind his back, turned around, and gave his slender, veined wrists to the chef in lieu of a verbal reply.
"Alright." said Hector.
Hector smiled, showing off his white teeth. He decisively removed his chef's skullcap, letting his light brown hair down, damp with sweat on his forehead and temples, accentuating his savage and eager expression, a clear signal of his transition to a primitive and predatory state.
Then she started winding the rope.
The first coil was pulled very slowly around Tom's wrist, deliberately prolonging the moment to the max, not to offer a chance to reconsider, but to make him fully enjoy the perverted gravity of the moment. The coarse fibers bit into his skin, leaving red marks. The searing pain mixed with the pleasure from his wrists drew a low moan from Tom.
By the third round, Hector's speed and strength increased noticeably. The bonds tighten until they almost cut into his flesh, leaving Tom completely immobilized and the thought of resisting impossible. This loss of freedom excites his body even more. He closes his eyes, his entire will and body now completely surrendered, giving in to Hector's control.
When the final knot is secured, Hector wraps his arms around Tom from behind, hugging him tightly. His deep, warm voice, with a hint of lingering tenderness, sounded beside Tom's ear, whispering statements of ownership, carving each word into his mind.
"From now on, you are ready to go to the table." she said.
Hector grabbed Tom by the shoulders and pushed him to the center of the cleaning area, where a stainless steel drain lay at his feet. The drain was black and deep, seemingly ready to swallow everything. The non-slip gray tile floor around it was always wet from the cold water dripping from somewhere high up in the ceiling. The harsh direct light created blindingly bright areas and deep, dense shadows, breaking Tom's naked body into disjointed pieces. On the large wall around them, the tools of the trade are neatly and conveniently organized, allowing Hector to move around them with ease.
A stream of warm water suddenly gushed from the wall-mounted showerhead, drenching Tom. Hectoe immediately began rubbing, running her hands all over Tom's body under the warm water with practiced efficiency, leaving no gap untouched. Those hands rubbed firmly across his chest, pinching lightly at his nipples that were stiff with cold and stimulation, then sliding down his firm six-pack abs, to his strong, muscular thighs, and his round, full ass. He grabs and strokes Tom's cock with deliberate roughness, drawing a low, pleasurable moan from Tom.
After the rich, fragrant lather soaks his entire body and is rinsed off with warm water, Hector grabs a razor and a bottle of gel. He applies a layer of cool gel to Tom's skin, starting under his arms. The sharp blade glides over his flesh with precision, shaving off every hair.
"Smooth skin will be the perfect canvas for crispy skin after roasting," he whispered.
The most humiliating and exciting stage for Tom was when Hector picked up the enema device. He casually lubricates the cold metal tip, then presses it against Tom's dark brown asshole. Tom gasped, a wave of embarrassment washing over him, but was soon overpowered by a wave of intense excitement as the tip was slowly eased inside. His sphincter clenches hard, gripping the foreign object tightly. Hector pumps a fair amount of warm water inside. The feeling of fullness and the rhythmic contractions that followed made Tom moan continuously. Finally, Hector turned off the water and withdrew the device.
He used a soft, highly absorbent towel to carefully dry Tom. Tom's skin was now completely clean, smooth, and pink in color, much to Hector's satisfaction.
"Perfect material. Clean and fragrant." he said.
Throughout the entire process, Tom's penis never once softened, a strong, fleshy testament to his extreme passion and his complete acceptance of his destiny. It stood thick and veiny, erect, glistening under the harsh light, a blatant symbol of his submission and the savage passion that coursed through him. Hector's eyes looked at it with cold appraisal, a chef approving the main piece before final preparation.
Then, Hector led Tom, whose hands were still tightly bound behind his back, to another corner of the kitchen. There, a system of cold steel pulleys was securely fastened to the ceiling beams, resembling a medieval torture device. A thick, sturdy, height-adjustable horizontal iron bar hangs in the air.
Hector took a pair of heavy, sharp J-shaped steel hooks from the bar. Without a word, he shoved Tom, sending him tumbling to the damp tile floor. Tom lay on his back, feeling the cold of the stone floor sink deep into his body. Hector bent down, grabbed his ankles, wrapped a thick leather strap around each leg for protection, and then locked the steel hooks into place. In an instant, both of Tom's legs were firmly locked by the metal hooks.
A series of dry clicking sounds resounded. The steel cables began to retract, slowly lifting Tom's legs upwards. His body slowly flipped over; gravity pulled the blood rushing towards his head, reddening his face and creating a roaring pressure in his ears. The horizontal bar continued to rise until Tom's muscular body hung about a meter above the ground, swaying slightly. His arms, which were still tightly bound behind his back, intensified the feeling of exposure and restraint. His body began to sweat. Beads of salty sweat dripped upwards from his back to his chest, then dripped down his neck. The combination of helplessness against the metal hooks and the perverse stimulation pushed Tom into a state of extreme tension.
A sly smile spreads across Hector's lips, revealing his strong, white teeth. He raises his large hand and slaps Tom's erect penis. The slap produced a distinct sound, the sharp, unexpected pain making Tom cry out in surprise. His whole body jerked violently, causing the pulley system to creak and groan.
Hector retrieved a long, dark brown leather whip from the kitchen drawer. Its surface was shiny from years of use, oil, and sweat. However, its presence was not enough to mask the cruel glint in his eyes.
"I will now begin the softening process," his voice sounded cold.
The whip crashed upwards then came down hard on Tom's stomach with terrifying force, producing sharp, dry cracks. Dark red welts soon appeared on his freshly shaved, flawlessly fair skin, tracing the lines of his taut stomach, a sign of bruising and blood. Tom groaned, his voice choked with pain and shock. Before the pain subsided, the whip rose again, striking his chest with a hard blow, leaving a parallel mark just below his collarbone.
"This whipping will help your muscle fibers relax properly, allowing them to absorb the seasoning thoroughly." said Hector.
Then Hector delivers a rapid succession of blows, raining down on her powerfully muscled inner thighs and round, firm buttocks. Each time the whip made contact, searing pain ripped through Tom's nervous system, triggering violent tremors throughout his body and causing his inverted form to twitch and spin helplessly on its axis. This was immediately followed by a strange wave of pleasure that spread throughout his body. His ever-hardening penis oozed hot semen, swelling to a pitiful degree.
While his right hand continues the brutal rhythm of his whip, Hector's left hand moves to grip the prominent bulge confined under his own tight black pants. He pulls the sweat-soaked fabric tight, accentuating the outline of his large, firm erection. His left hand then slipped inside, massaging his straining penis.
It's only when Tom's body is covered in crisscrossing red wounds, some of which are already covered in blood, that Hector finally stops. His hands, smelling of sweat and skin, graze the blistered scars, feeling the hot, moist temperature and the twitching of every muscle fiber.
"What a beautiful reaction, my dinner." he said.
She raised her hand and gently patted Tom's cheek, which was flushed with stimulation.
The cold steel hook opened. Tom's body, now covered in red cuts and deep purple bruises, lay supine on the large metal table. The surface was smooth, hard, and very cold.
CONTINUED