Roast's Theme Song

Oysters

Jess, after having spent a lazy morning with Roast on their day off, has a merciless craving for oysters. It's been raining out all day and the Master's off the island, so there's absolutely nothing to take his mind off his belly's desires. Roast wasn't willing to give up his yet.... but he didn't feel permission was necessary from certain other boys. "Steak, would you come in here?"

Steak is always happy to have a summons to Jess' room, and heads in without hesitation when he hears the chef calling for him. He's a little surprised to see that Roast is also waiting.

"Strip. Get on the bed, on your back."

Very pleased by his good fortune, Steak does as he's told with a happy little smirk.

Jess gets out his ball of kitchen twine, quickly separating Steak's balls from his body, tying them off tightly and squeezing them happily.

Roast can hardly keep himself from snickering; Jess had told him that he was planning on giving Steak a good scare and cutting off his balls. He assumes Jess is joking.

Steak is a little nervous, but he definitely enjoys the sensation. Soon, his neck is arched with pleasure, and he glances down from time to time to watch his balls change colour.

To both the other boys' surprise, Jess takes out a small butchering knife and slices Steak's ball sac, popping them out after making a few more quick incisions.

There is a heavy thud as Roast hits the floor in a dead faint.

Steak, who had been in his neck-arched phase, doesn't realize what's happened at first. He looks down when he hears the body hit the floor, and sees what's happened between his legs. He shrieks.

Jess looks down at Roast innocently. He grabs the spray bottle he keeps in his room to cool himself and his boys off, spraying Roast to wake him. He plops the little oysters into a bowl of delicious red sauce he'd prepared earlier. So far, he was ignoring Steak.

Roast sits up, blinking, when he feels the mist hitting his face. "Mmm? Jess? Why am I on the floor? I feel...funny..."

Steak lays back on the bed, breathing heavily and on the edge of hyperventilating.

"You fainted!" Jess laughed. "I didn't realize you were so squeamish. You've helped me butcher boys before." he stroked Roast's forehead, soothingly. "You're fine." he murmured.

"Oooh..." Roast groans, leaning into Jess' cool hand. "...thank you. I don't know what came over me. I guess...I didn't think you were actually going to, I just thought you were going to scare him!"

"You cut off my fucking balls!" Steak screams.

Jess grabbed Steak by the neck. "And if you had been better behaved, I would have asked your permission first." he stroked Roast's forehead gently. "I surprised you, did I?"

Roast nods, sitting up under his own power a little more.

"Wha--why--agh!" Steak sputters, struggling in Jess' powerful grip.

"Sit down and be quiet or I'll cut off your fingers and keep you in a cage until you're ready to eat." Jess growled at him.

Whimpering, Steak sits still.

"Good boy." Jess smiles, leaving them for a moment and popping his knife blade into the oven.

Roast, always soft-hearted, gently gathers Steak into his arms, soothing him. "It's alright, Steak. You're fine."

Steak shivers, clinging to Roast and fighting back tears with noisy sniffles.

Jess came back whistling, spreading Steak's thighs and pressing the hot knife to the wound inside Steak's empty sac where he cut out the balls, cauterizing it neatly. He then took some sutures and stitched the empty sac shut fluidly.

Seeing what's coming, Roast quickly grabs Steak's arms firmly, covers the boy's eyes with his other hand, and plants a soft kiss on Steak's forehead.

"Roast, what--" Because his balls are tied off, Steak doesn't feel the full pain, but he's still aware that something is going on and starts thrashing.

Jess lets Steak keep his balls tied of for a little while longer, then removes it, once the struggling has stopped. He smiles at his big strong Roast, glad he has someone to help hold Steak down.

Roast smiles back, still looking a little pale and shaky. He continues holding and gentling Steak.

Steak is trembling, mostly with fury, glaring at Jess. If rather feebly.

Now that Steak's oysters have been sitting in the sauce for some time, Jess takes one of them and swallows it whole, smiling happily as it slides into his stomach.

Roast laughs despite himself. Jess is just so...unique.

Seeing his testicle eaten by Jess pushes Steak over the edge, and he faints in Roast's arms.

Jess laughs, offering Roast the other oyster.

The sous chef takes it after a moment's hesitation, following Jess' example. "Mmm...very tender. And a delicious sauce." He glances down at Steak, kissing the unconscious boy's hair. "...probably for the best. Mind if I lay him on your bed for a while?"

"That's fine." he nods. "I'll go see Sydney, get the boy some pain killer. The Master won't be home tonight if it keeps storming anyway, so I doubt tomorrow will be very busy for us." Jess kissed Roast's shoulder on a nice red bite-mark before heading up to see his doctor friend.

Roast lays Steak on the bed, gently tucking him in and putting him in a comfortable position. "I'll stay with him, if you don't mind, in case he wakes up." He trails off into a gasp as his tender bite is kissed, waving vaguely after Jess.

Jess wanders upstairs, taking his time, enjoying being upstairs instead in the wide hallways and on the plush carpet, rather than the busy, loud and sterile-tiled kitchen. Though it is his element and he loves it... a change is nice.

He wanders up to Sydney's room, knocking on the door softly.

Sydney is reading a romance novel, of all things. "Come in," he says, softly, when he hears the knock. It can only be Jess.

Jess raised his eyebrow at Sydney's reading material. "I would have expected a thriller." he smiled.

Showing just a hint of a blush, Sydney carefully sets his book aside. "Is there something you needed to talk to me about? ...besides my choice of reading materials," the doctor says, wryly.

"Actually, I was hoping you would be able to offer me a painkiller for Steak." Jess chuckled, patting Sydney's arm amiably.

Habit makes Sydney withdraw from the touch, before he takes a deep breath and relaxes, smiling at Jess. "Oh? What happened to your pet troublemaker this time?"

"I castrated him." Jess said matter-of-factly, picking up the romance novel and skimming the back. "Actually, this doesn't sound so bad."

Sydney smirks. "You see? ...wait, you what?"

"I castrated him. I had a craving for oysters." he smiled. "He's unconscious for now. I've cauterized the wound and stitched him up, but he'll be in some pain when he wakes up." he put down the book.

"...what do oysters have to do with anything?" Sydney asks, rummaging in his doctor's bag for an analgesic. "Well, it sounds like he'll be fine, painkillers should be enough...let me know if he needs more."

"Human oysters." Jess took the offered bottle of pills. "Testicles. Delicious, you should try them with me sometime." he smiled.

Sydney raises an eyebrow, looking somewhat appalled. "I don't even like real oysters, but...thank you."

Jess shrugs. Fine dining was somewhat lost on Sydney, in his opinion, but he did still enjoy the man's company enough not to comment.

Never one for, in his opinion pointless, social niceties, Sydney glances pointedly at his book. "Well. Let me know if he needs more, or bring him up if you want me to have a look. You could, ah, come by tonight. If you wanted." Sydney assumes, barring some emergency, that he'll be done his book by then and his schedule will be more open.

"Alright, I'll get out of your hair." Jess kissed the doctor's cheek. "Enjoy your book." The chef took off.

"I will," Sydney says absently, already immersed in his book.

Jess headed back downstairs, forced a pill down Steak's throat and went to spend the rest of the afternoon in the garden.

Roast, having finished his work, ascertains where Jess is and ambles outside after him. "...mind if I join you?"

"Not at all." Jess murmured, happy and warm in the sun. "How are the boys?"

"Good. We've made food for ourselves and everyone who's in the house, and they're starting to wander off for their evening free time." Roast gazes happily at the warm, soft chef. He loves it when Jess is relaxed like this. Roast stretches full-length in the grass with a little happy groan.

Jess nods, eyes still closed. "And how is my Roast?" he wiggles his bare toes across the grass into Roast's lap, tickling the giant man.

Roast giggles and squirms, playfully capturing Jess' foot in one hand and giving him a lazy foot massage. "Mmm. It's nice to be outside. From time to time."

"It is, isn't it." Jess groaned happily, giving Roast both of his feet to massage and rub.

"I wish I had something to rub them with...if only I'd known," Roast says, running his thumbs over Jess' feet.

"Mmmm... that's nice though." Jess sighed. "Steak hasn't woken up, has he?"

"No, not yet. Stock's watching him." Roast laughs softly to himself, imagining Jess laying on the ground naked, looking like a heap of early snow.

"Is that funny?" Jess murmured.

"Um...yeah, a little..." Roast says quickly. "He was nervous about watching him in case something happened, but I told him to go and get Sydney." He rubs Jess' feet more vigorously.

"That's not very funny." Jess said sensibly, groaning.

"...you didn't see his face when I asked him. Or when I told him what had happened to Steak."

Jess chuckled. "True."

Roast sighs in relief and carefully works his kneading hands up Jess' calves.

The round, pale man makes little happy groaning sounds, starting to drift off in the grass, warmed by the sun.

Sighing with contentment, Roast continues his impromptu massage, quietly shooing away any insects who come to investigate Jess. "I know he smells like sugar," the sous chef quietly tells a bee, "but he always does. Look, there are some nice flowers over there."

Jess snickers.

Blushing, Roast assaults a large knot on Jess' thigh.

The chef continues to grin, but still groans under Roast's big hands. "Mmm, good boy."

Roast 'hmphs' quietly, but grins as well and continues his way up Jess' legs. "Do you want to roll over so I can do your back?"

Jess flails a little, managing to roll onto his front. His muscles are feeling all melty and wonderful. The Roast hands and the sun are turning him into a puddle.

Laughing gently, Roast helps his chef to roll and begins kneading Jess' back. "Mmm, you're nice and warm."

Jess practically purrs. "Ohhhh... yes, right there."

Roast obligingly concentrates on the desired spot, beginning to yawn a little himself as the warmth and the breeze affect him.

Jess was quiet for a few minutes, then Roast realized he was snoring quietly.

Smiling, the sous chef goes to a small storage shed in the little garden and finds a blanket to cover Jess with. He then settles nearby to make sure the chef isn't disturbed. It isn't long before he, too, is asleep.

Roast's Fetish

Roast knocks softly on Jess' doorframe, seeing as the door is open. He can't resist taking a peek inside, however, and is delighted--and aroused--as always at the sight of his chef getting dressed. Jess' clothes alone can get him going, and the sight of his naked body, exactly the sort of body Roast wishes he had; small, soft and round...he's blushing a little.

"Come in." Jess calls, buttoning up his pants and fishing a neatly folded shirt out of his dresser.

The sous chef shivers with delight and enters the room, leaning as casually as he can on the wall while he watches Jess finish.

Jess raised an eyebrow at him. "Did you need something, or did you just need to get an erection?"

Roast's slight blush goes instantly crimson. "Ah! What...? I...uh...no! I mean yes!" He realizes, to his horror, that he's forgotten what he came in for. "...sorry..." he murmurs, hanging his head. "I'll...go..."

Jess laughs. "Come back, Roast, I'm only teasing. What did you come here for? Did you forget?"

"Yes..." the larger man admits, grinning awkwardly at the chef. "I don't know what it is about your clothes...even your shoes..." He shuts his mouth abruptly, realizing he's babbling.

Jess looks down at his comfortable, but hardly flattering white shoes. "These?" he asked, incredulously.

Roast nods, trying to look amused and mostly just looking embarrassed.

Jess looked him up and down, then pointed down at his shoes. "Then come here and polish them."

Roast is moving before conscious thought kicks in, on his knees in front of Jess with a rag. He blinks a bit, startled to find himself here, but continues carefully polishing the soft leather.

"With your tongue."

The sous chef's eyes widen, and he tilts his head to look up at Jess, past the broad expanse of the other's belly. He nods, trying to hide his delighted smile, and lowers himself still further, where he begins licking the plain shoes as intimately as though he were sucking Jess. He lifts his head just for an instant to ask, hesitantly, "...you aren't needed in the kitchen?"

"Not for a little while." Jess murmured, voice husky. Roast could always tell when he was enjoying himself by the change in his voice. The bulge in his pants was a clear sign too.

Roast nods, his mouth and tongue already latched back on the shoes, his hands wrapped around them, tenderly caressing as he licks and sucks. He loves hearing Jess' voice like this, and he contemplates lifting his head, but...he hasn't been told he can.

Jess allows Roast to continue sucking and licking at his shoes for a time, then unbuttons his pants.

The big sous chef's eyes widen, but he diligently continues on the shoes, not lifting his head, only enjoying the sounds of Jess' movement.

Once his cock is free of his pants, Jess starts stroking himself, teasingly slow. He's wondering how long Roast will be able to continue on his shoes with such a temptation above him.

Roast shudders, his nose almost pressed to the leather of the shoes, eyes closed, as he ignores what he hasn't been offered and continues working his tongue in long, slow circles along the white shoes. He realizes that he's licking in time to the sounds of the chef's strokes above him, and he moans helplessly into the shoe.

Jess steps back out of his shoes, sitting on the bed and offering Roast a hand.

Roast follows the movement, his eyes a little unfocused, but he eventually manages to get his hand/eye coordination working well enough to place his hand in Jess'.

Jess grabs him by his hair and guides his lips to his cock.

The sous chef moans with delight, eagerly allowing himself to be pulled forward until his lips meet firm, soft flesh. His mouth closes around the treat, and he closes his eyes as well, to concentrate completely. Every other sense is engaged, even smell.

Jess lays back on the bed and moans, submitting to Roast's talented mouth.

Roast hums softly around his mouthful, loving the feeling of Jess' cock vibrating around his lips, hoping Jess likes the feeling too. He's oddly unable to remember if he's done this with Jess before. He lightly rests a hand on either side of Jess' prone body, leaning even further in.

Jess groans deep in his throat, fingers curling in Roast's hair.

Roast leans in and pulls back, loving the tension this creates on his hair, and working his mouth up and down Jess' shaft while he moves, rolling his tongue under the head and along the loose skin of the underside.

Roast and Chickens

Roast has been walking around with a raging boner all day, and it's been driving him to distraction. He would never admit it, and he really hopes no one has noticed, but...stuffing chickens for roasting really, really turns him on. He's stuffed eight.

Jess comes up behind him, watching him stuff the roast chicken with a little smirk on his face. "Roast?"

Roast, past his wrist into the chicken's cavity, turns to face his chef, wishing -really- hard that he wasn't so damn pale and didn't show a blush so easily. "...yes?" he answers, as casually as a man wearing only an apron, a blush, and a bulge can.

"How long have you been hard now?" the chef chuckled a little.

Roast blushes more deeply, pushing the handful of stuffing as far as it will go before pulling his hand out. He crosses his legs a little, trying to hide the obvious. "Ahh...what? I'm...uh...not done yet, can't talk now..." The large man grins apologetically and grabs another handful of stuffing from the bowl.

"When you're finished, come to my room. I have a surprise for you." Jess smiled, squeezing Roast's ass affectionately/possessively.

Roast shivers, thinking of the least sexy things he can--Steak showering, his hair first thing in the morning, pig shit...so he won't cum on the spot as he feels his beloved chef touch his favorite cut of meat. "YesJessI'llbethere...I mean. Yes. I'll be done soon. I just have to, uh, get this in the oven." He resolutely turns back to the chicken, trying really hard--poor word choice--not to imagine the fowl's cavity is his ass.

Jess went to his room, grinning his face off. He went to his bedstand and got out lubrication and two new toys he'd had specially made for his boys.

Roast stuffs the chicken rather more vigorously and with less fantasizing than before--time with Jess is better than stuffing chickens any day--and soon has them baking in the oven. After doing a quick tour of the kitchen to make sure everything is in order and being done properly, he heads to Jess' room, blush and boner still firmly in place.

Jess is sitting, naked, on the bed. The toys are tucked away for now, but he has two fingers in his ass and is stretching himself. He meets Roast's eyes with something like a challenge.

Roast's eyes widen. He, of all the kitchen boys, probably knows the most about Jess, and has heard the least...edited...version of his exploits before coming to the Manor, but he's still not used to Jess being so openly sexual with him. He stands in the doorway, staring, completely unsure what Jess' gaze means.

"Come here and fuck me." Jess chuckled. "Don't look so shocked." his voice became a happy moan and he tossed the lube to Roast.

Roast nibbles his lip, and hurries to oblige. He fumbles for the lube, and quickly pulls off his apron and oils his cock, waiting for further instructions. He's feeling rather lost, like he missed part of the conversation.

Jess didn't bother to wait for him to make a move. He wrapped his legs around Roast's hips and pulled the boy closer, using his hand to guide Roast's cock in. He groaned happily, fingers digging into Roast's sides.

Roast squeaks, a rather incongruous noise for such a large man, and easily allows himself to be pulled in. He fumbles a bit, blushing for a different reason now. "...sorry..." he murmurs. "I haven't done this much..." He moans as the fingers dig into his sides, disrupting his rhythm.

"Just let me fuck myself on you." Jess murmured huskily, using his legs to push and pull the other man, fucking himself on the other.

The sous-chef nods, trying to relax and just let Jess move him. He's never really enjoyed fucking very much, although for some reason the only men who would fuck him before he came to the Manor were bitchy little tops with...iss-ues.

Jess used the boy until he came, scratching at him, not once asking his Roast to take control. He used him quite shamelessly until he was sated.

Roast is still hard, not sure if he's supposed to come or not, and not really sure if he can, at least without something in his butt. He's squirming a little, trying to hide his discomfort. He wonders why Jess is so pointy today.

Once Jess was done, he pushed Roast onto the bed, on his back. He pulled out the new toys with a smirk. They were anal beads in the shape of cloves of garlic and little onions.

Roast lays there, assuming that Jess is going to please him in some way. He's shaken out of his complacency when he sees the toys. His cock springs back to full attention, his gaze fixed on the anal beads. He can hardly keep from touching himself.

Jess lubes them both up, then slides in the first 'bead' of one of them. Then, to Roast's surprise, he slid in the first bead of the second toy.

Roast squeaks again. "Ahhh...what're you doing?" he says, almost slurring, he's so aroused.

"Is it too much already? You can usually take so much..." Jess teased him, sliding in another garlic-shaped bead.

Roast laughs, a little wildly, and shakes his head. "No, no, 's good, I just...ngh...didn't expect this!" He shivers as he feels each bulb roll into him, loving the difference in feeling between 'onion' and 'garlic'. "Jess...can I...?" He reaches for his cock, stopping his hand before it's actually touching.

Jess nods, distracted by wiggling in the wonderfully shaped beads.

Roast eagerly seizes his cock and begins slowly stroking in a steady rhythm that will allow him to last.

Jess started counting them as they slid into him. Once he was up to sixteen, he started to pull them in opposite directions.

Roast continues gasping and moaning as each bead slides in, extremely glad Jess hadn't made him count. One, he's rather distracted. Two, although his anus is very sensitive, he isn't sure he could distinguish all of them without losing count. When he feels the new sensation, he moans louder than ever. "Oh, god, what're you doing? You're pulling them apart...you're pulling -me- apart..." He has a vision of Jess actually pulling him apart like this, hooking his fingers and pulling until he's completely in half, that's how tender his meat is.

Jess smirks, enjoying inching them out of him as he pulls. Once they're partially out, he starts sliding them back in, pushing a finger in along with the beads.

Roast is completely unhinged by this point, laughing, moaning, cackling, bucking and gasping.

Jess laughs with him, fully enjoying the range of sounds he's getting from his boy.

Roast's stroking has gradually increased throughout, and he's very, very close. The sensations combined with the mental image of what Jess is doing is almost too much for him, and he's biting his lip.

Jess slid his finger all the way in, curving it to find Roast's prostate, pressing against the onions and garlic.

"OhgodJessyespleaseohdon'tstoppleasecanI...!"

"Cum!" Jess finished for him, curving his finger further and rubbing the bundle of nerves.

Roast screams until his throat is raw, cumming. Everywhere. He's pretty sure he's hit at least three of the room's surfaces.

Jess laughs softly, keeping his finger in Roast until he's sure the boy is done clenching and cumming. He can hear the kitchen go silent outside his room; the boys are listening. "Good boy." he bent down to kiss Roast's softening cock, pulling the toys out of him slowly, bead by bead.

Roast is shivering and speechless, the way he always is after great sex like this. He's come to believe that sex should leave you feeling feverish, and there's nothing he loves more than pushing the limits of what he can take up the ass. He's not one for ridiculously massive dildos, but he does love to be stretched, to feel that edge of pain and keep going, knowing he'll be alright and love it. And if a hint of cannibalism is involved...it's just all the sweeter.

Jess cleaned the toys quickly and went back to his shivering boy, tucking him in and snuggling in next to him.

"Gahhh..." Roast says, articulately. He burrows up against Jess, mutely sending waves of love at him as he shivers and bucks his way through aftershocks.

Jess smiles. "Feeling better?" he murmured in Roast's ear.

"Mmmhmm...Fleh...Mheh..." Roast beams beatifically at the chef, murmuring nonsense words in a happy voice.

Jess nodded, as if Roast had said something sensible. "I think I prefer those beads too." his hand slid down Roast's back to squeeze his ass.

"Myheh? Ahhh...Mmmhmm..." Roast nods. He loves when Jess plays this game of pretending to know what he's saying. And when Jess squeezes his ass. And...Jess. He closes his eyes, perfectly content. Then he realizes. "...why's it so quiet?"

"They're making sure I haven't slaughtered you early." Jess chuckled. He pounds his fist on the wall and they suddenly hear a clattering of boys starting to work.

"Mmm? Oh." Roast blushes again, realizing how loud he must have been...and seeing the mess.

"Mmm, that was good." Jess smiled.

"Uh-huh...are you...you know...?"

"Finished? Yes." he nestled into Roast's big shoulder, kissing his neck.

"Mmm...good..." Roast laughs. "I think I would die if I had to move." He yawns. "I'm glad we did this when I was done for the day..."

"Mm, well I know how you get after sex." Jess chuckled. "You're boneless."

Roast nods, looking a little sheepish. "Deboned," he agrees.

Jess kisses his ear, nibbling gently.

"Mmm...purrrr...are you trying to get me going again?" the large boy laughs, shivering a little more.

"Could you?" Jess murmurs. "I assumed your cock was deboned as well."

"It is," Roast says, sadly. "No bones." The sound of Jess' voice comes close to succeeding in a ressurection, though.

"Mmm, good." Jess cups Roast's cock and balls, squeezing gently. "I like playing with them when they're soft."

Roast squeaks and squirms, sounding, as usual, like the much smaller man he imagines himself as. "It feels funny," he giggles. "Why?"

"It's nice and soft." Jess chuckles, continuing to play with Roast's genitals. "Mmm, Stock will be ready in two months. He wants to have a leg amputated."

"Does he? Why's that?" Roast asks, surprised. He's usually the first to know about kitchen boy-related things.

"It's something I spoke to him about yesterday, when he spent the night. He knew that his time was coming up, but he isn't ready to die quite yet, so he asked if I'd ever done part of someone before."

"Ah." It's a thought Roast has had several times before. However, seeing as he's been here for longer than the required seven years, with no sign of his slaughter--Jess just can't seem to replace him--he's mostly resigned himself to living forever. "...have you?"

"Yes, a few times." Jess smiled wickedly. "Stock and I also discussed something you would very much enjoy."

Roast raises an eyebrow. "...oh?"

"Before I came here, I fucked a boy while he lay in the oven, whole."

Roast stares at him, wide-eyed, for a moment. "...oh?" He pauses again. "...and why did you think I would, ah, enjoy that?" he says, as nonchalantly as he can.

"Are you being coy?"

"...yes..." the sous-chef says, pouting a little.

Jess chuckled. "Cute boy. I know you would love if I fucked you while you were in the oven."

Roast squirms, embarrassed to be so transparent. "...maybe...did he?"

"No."

I thought as much. Does Stock know?"

"Know that the boy was unwilling? No."

"I didn't think so." Roast has known Jess for long enough that his stories are rarely filtered, and Roast has made it clear that he prefers the truth. "...wouldn't that hurt? You, I mean."

Jess took Roast's hand and guided it to a soft burn scar on his thigh.

Roast's eyes widen again. "Ow. Didn't you pull back or anything? That's pretty deep...You must have felt it."

"I didn't, not until I'd finished and he was almost gone." Jess fingered his scar thoughtfully.

The sous-chef laughs. "Why am I not surprised? You have the most interesting scars." Roast has two favourites: a thin, rather unremarkable one on Jess' side that he knows is from a bullet. Jess had been grazed by an unwilling dinner. He's not sure why he likes it. The other is an even less prominant scar on the chef's arm, where he had been cut to be initiated into a tribe so they would teach him about cooking humans.

"Don't you have any? From cooking?" Jess stroked Roast's butt and thigh, tracing little circles on his skin.

"Mmm..." Roast sighs happily, enjoying the feeling very much. "I have a few--just little burns and nicks."

Jess nodded. "I'm always surprised when I meet cooks without scars." he kissed Roast gently.

"I think they're called 'new'." Roast laughs, his words trailing off into Jess' mouth, becoming a little breathy whisper.

Jess chuckled into the kiss, nuzzling into his Roast.

A Sliver of Roast

One night, when we had Electronics Time (which is what we call it when we're allowed, every month or so, to break from 19^th century life and watch television, play computer or video games, and generally be modern again), the kitchen boys and I (well, I guess I’m technically a kitchen boy, too…) decided to watch the Crème Fraiche episode of South Park. I mean, it’s about getting off from cooking, so it was perfect.

Afterward, I went to Jess’ room to ask a question about the next day’s menu. I was a little surprised to see him with a laptop perched on his soft, white belly…and even more surprised to see him…touching himself…

I supposed that he, like everyone else, had to jerk off sometimes, and why shouldn’t he be looking at porn like anyone else. Then I heard some of the dialogue, and it didn’t really sound like porn. It sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.

“I can, ah, come back,” I murmured, turning for the door.

The head chef shook his head and laughed softly, beckoning me closer.

“What’re you watching?” I asked, shyly.

“Iron Chef,” he answered.

I laughed. I should have known.

“Want to help?” Jess asked, patting the bed.

I nodded. Any chance to be…intimate…with Jess, we all took whenever it was offered. I hopped on the bed and settled myself between his legs. “What would you like?” I whispered, listening to the absurd dialogue.

Jess shrugged.

I lowered my head between his thighs and gently took his reddened cock in my mouth, playing with every bit of loose skin, cupping his balls in one hand.

Jess sighed happily and turned his attention back to the show.

I continued in this way for a time, trying to stretch it out as long as possible (mostly for my own enjoyment). After a while, I lightly pressed one finger to his butthole, pausing to await his approval. He nodded, his breathing changing as he got closer.

I began working the dry finger in, knowing that he liked at least one finger without lube, continuing to suck and lick, using my teeth very lightly, something else I knew he liked. I still didn’t want him to finish, but I knew it wouldn’t be long.

Indeed, he soon set the laptop gently aside, biting furiously at one wrist in his passion.

I reached toward his mouth with my free hand, offering him my wrist instead, joyfully.

He seized it and began biting and chewing at my hand and fingers as I continued sucking and rocking my finger inside him.

He came quite quietly, as he always does, at least with us. He may come like a steam locomotive for all I know, when he’s alone, but he’s always a little detached with us.

Even though it was quite late, and we had to be up in not too many hours to begin the day’s cooking, we were both quite worked up. The little bits of biting and chewing on my hand had only gotten me more excited.

He seemed to feel the same way. Recovering quickly, as he usually does, he rolled me onto my back, biting at my pecs, my chest, my stomach, my shoulders, leaving deep, deliciously sore bruises everywhere he visited. I treasure these bruises, I poke and prod them for days until they fade, feeling his exquisite love with every bit of pain.

He rolled me onto my front, biting at his favourite place, where my thigh meets my ass, the reason he declared me Roast when I first came here, for my perfect rump roasts that have featured in so many of both of our fantasies. It’s a little tender, and a little ticklish, and completely overwhelmingly erotic. I propped myself up on my elbows, pressing vigorously at an especially nice bruise he left on my upper chest. He laughed, watching me squirm and writhe and love it.

Soon, he has a knife--there are always knives nearby in his bedroom--and I’m facedown on the bed, holding myself in a hogtie position. He flicked the knife open and lightly grazed it over the same spot at the base of my ass, sending me into shivers of delight. I struggled to keep my position as he pressed the sharp tip a little deeper, and I imagine that I’m bound like an animal for slaughter, or like a roast chicken about to be popped into the oven.

“Please,” I begged, “would you tie me up?”

He nodded, moving away to get some cooking twine. He soon had my wrists bound and my ankles trussed together. He attached ankles to wrists by going under and around my ass and junk, making my meaty butt stand out as it’s pressed together and tightly bound, and I loved it, imagining his favourite cut of meat on display. He did something to one of the knots, tugging everything together wonderfully, and I nearly came every time he pulled. Finally, I’m tied to his liking.

He began to slice at his ass/thigh junction, and I had a feeling I know what he’s doing. “Are you going to take a piece?” I asked, a little breathily.

“Yes,” he laughed. “Just a little one. Do you mind?” he askeds, playfully, knowing my answer.

I shook my head anyway, beaming, I’m sure.

“Good.” He made a long, narrow, deep cut, then widened it in the middle to isolate a little island of flesh.

I gasped and moaned and writhed, but I was held securely by the twine and my own desire for this to happen. It stung, and there were moments of bright pain, but once he’s opened the skin, there was actually much less sensation than I would have expected.

It was a rather long and drawn out process for him to get his little scrap, and he had to stop quite frequently to dab away blood and get other tools, like tweezers, to pull the piece out so he can cut it.

I felt a little faint, despite how much I wanted it, and my shoulders began to ache from being tied behind my back, but I was still ecstatic.

Finally, he showed me the tiny bloody sliver that is my meat. I groaned. It was so small, and it had taken so much work and pain, but there it was. “Are you going to eat it?” I asked, reverently.

“Of course.” He smiled, making sure I can watch as he put it on his tongue, almost like a communion wafer, and swallowed.

“Can you actually taste it? Is it good?”

“Yes. It mostly tasted like blood, of course, but I could taste it.” He got the camera and took some pictures--quickly, because I’ve told him about my shoulders. He unties me and took a few more pictures. I asked him if he sucked at the wound.

He laughed, and told me he did. I hadn’t remembered. “…would you do it again?” I asked.

He did, sucking gently at the little hole and cleaning the blood away, before getting a large bandaid and sticking it on. He laid down, opened his arms for me, and I cuddled up against him for sleep.

Tartare

Roast sees Jess gathering a few things one day, and curiously approaches him, affectionately placing an arm on the shorter man's waist. "Where are you going?"

"An interview." Jess smiled. "We might be getting a new kitchen boy."

"Really!" Roast claps his hands. "I love when we get new boys. Do you know what he would be yet?"

"Not yet, I haven't met him. I've only seen pictures." Jess opened one of his notebooks and took out a photo, handing it to Roast. "But doesn't he look sweet?"

Roast grins. "Yes, he does. I remember sending you my picture...I was so shy, I must have taken about a thousand..." The taller man blushes, grinning shyly at Jess.

"That many?" Jess raised an eyebrow. "Goodness." he put the picture back into his book, putting his things into a satchel. "Anyway, we'll need a new boy soon, Shank is going to be our midsummer feast and we'll be a boy short."

"I love the midsummer feast..." Roast says, a little dreamily. "And Shank is definitely ready. He looks like...well, sort of like a woman who's giving birth soon, you know?" He chatters on quickly to hide his blush, and to avoid answering the question.

"Glowing, or round?" Jess chuckled, picking up his satchel. He kissed Roast's forehead, making the boy lean down so he could reach. "You're in charge."

"Glowing," Roast giggles, then beams down at the kiss. "Yes, sir!" he says, grinning so wide he shows his teeth. "I hope he works out! Can I read his letter?"

Jess nodded, fishing it out of his bag and handing it to Roast. "I have to get down to the boat. Christian's probably getting impatient." he waved and left.

"Oh. Yes. Sorry. Do you need this?" He waves the letter at his chef's retreating form. "...I guess not..." He waves and blows Jess a kiss.

***

Christian is, indeed, impatiently waiting by the boat, playing with the photo of Dog he takes with him whenever they're separated.

"No picture of Yves?" Jess asked from over his shoulder.

Christian shoves the picture back into his pocket a little guiltily. "What are you talking about? What took you so long?"

"A picture of Dog? Your husband won't be too pleased about that. I'm sure he'd take some sexy pictures for you to take with you." Jess grinned. "And I got waylaid by Roast."

"...I'm sure he already has..." the guard says, wryly. "And...well...I've known Dog longer. Shut up. Get in the boat." He grabs Jess' bags and easily tosses them into the boat, making some suspicious metal clanking noises. "...what've you got in here?" he asks.

"Lots of things." Jess arranges himself comfortably in the boat, moving his bags under the seat for safety. "Are we going?"

"Yes." Christian nods to the silent boatman, who begins steering them across the water to the mainland. "Is he meeting us in London? And really, what's in the bags? I thought this was just an interview?"

"It is just an interview. But one should always be prepared." Jess stretched and yawned, relaxing. "And yes, London."

Christian raises an eyebrow. "...fine, be all mysterious." He settles down on his own seat, a little sulkily. He sticks his tongue out at Jess when he thinks the chubby man isn't looking.

"Have you ever eaten tongue?"

"...what? Ew. No. I don't think so. Have I?" He frowns at Jess, perplexed.

"No. And if you do that again, you won't be able to taste it when I cook it for you." Jess stuck out his tongue at Christian.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Christian says with an overly theatrical yawn.

Jess just smiled, closing his eyes for a nap.

***

Jess was early for the interview and went about the commercial cooking lab preparing what they would need.

Mason is also early, but not as early as Jess, and arrives a little out of breath, looking a little flustered. Seeing that Jess is already there, he pales slightly and looks at his watch to make sure he's not late, but quickly pulls himself together, tapping softly on the door frame to let Jess know he's arrived.

"Come in." Jess turned, smiling at him.

Mason smiles shyly, and lightly steps inside. "Are you...Jess?" he asks in a conspiratorial whisper.

"Yes. We can talk here, there's no one about." Jess said wryly. "So, you're interested in cooking for me and being eaten. Why?"

The boy's eyes widen and he glances around nervously, as though he expects men in dark sunglasses to jump out and yell 'Ah ha!' "Ah...yes..." he says, smiling a little.

Jess raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," he says more firmly. "I am interested in cooking for you and...being eaten..." he says the last almost flirtatiously.

"Because...I..." he frowns, trying to think of the 'right' answer, that isn't just 'because the thought of it turns me on'. "Because I think it's a good thing to do with my life," he says.

Jess chuckled. Most of the boys had given answers like that. He was familiar with the interview process for normal work, but his idea of an interview was more blunt. "And it's a sexual need for you?"

Mason nibbles his lip gently, then looks up at Jess, nodding. "Yes," he says, firmly.

"Good. It's the same for all the boys, as well as me. Have you cooked in a kitchen before?"

Mason smiles, looking relieved. "...oh. Well that's less awkward. I haven't cooked in a very big kitchen, certainly nothing very fancy, but I have cooked in several cafes..."

"What I'll be needing is a commis, someone under a prep chef. You'll be chopping vegetables and you'll have a prep chef to keep an eye on you until you've proven yourself. Do you think you could handle that?"

The boy grins, nodding. "Yes," he says, without hesitation.

"It can be a heavy workload. We prepare three meals a day and some of the meals can take hours of work. You have to get up early and I don't tolerate laziness."

Mason nods again. "I read all of the information you sent me. I even read the list of books you recommended. I...I want to try this."

"Well the first contract is three months. After that, we'll have another talk and you can leave or we'll make another contract. Would you be able to commit to three months? There's no contact with family or friends outside the house."

Mason nods and looks a little pained. "...my boyfriend just dumped me. We'd been living together almost three years. ...and he mostly dumped me for not coming out to my family, so...no one would be looking for me."

"Alright." Jess nodded, getting up from his chair and going over to the counter. There was a selection of vegetables, meats and knives. "Dice these."

Mason begins to dice, a little more slowly than a professional chef, but still competently.

"Good. Move your fingers back over the pepper like this." Jess shows him how to hold the pepper and cut quickly without fear of cutting his fingers. He shows Mason how to do it slowly, then speeds up to his usual speed.

Mason's eyes widen--he's seen cooking shows where people chop that quickly, but had always half-suspected that it was sped up. He's certainly never seen it done in real life. He does his best to copy Jess' motions.

Jess nods. "Good. Don't worry about speed yet, that takes lots of practice. By the end of your three months, you'll be much faster."

Mason grins, pleased by the praise. "...thank you. So...does that mean I...pass?" he asks.

"So far." Jess chuckles. He gets Mason to chop and slice a few more things, testing his knowledge of knives and food safety. He quizzes him about historical cooking and kitchens. Finally he nods. "Would you step into the other room with me?"

Mason nods, not sure what to expect.

The chubby man locks the door behind them. "Would you undress?"

Mason nibbles his lip again, and undresses--he's average height, fairly lanky, with curly dark hair on his head and spreading up from his groin.

Jess moves without hesitation or permission, touching the boy's arms and chest, turning him about and almost massaging his back down to his thighs.

Mason enjoys the touching, and clearly doesn't mind being moved about to Jess' liking.

"Mmm, yes, you'll do." Jess murmurs. "You are going to be replacing Shank, however, I think you will make a good Steak Tartare. In my kitchen, you won't be Mason anymore. You'll be Tartare."

Mason--now Tartare--nods, looking a little nervous, but, ah...visibly excited.

"Are you ready to leave today?" Jess asked.

Tartare nods, trying to hide his disappointment

"Good. Get your things and meet me at the docks as soon as you can. We'll be waiting." Jess told him, collecting his things and cleaning up.

Tartare nods and dresses, going home to pack.

***

Jess met Christian back at the ship, tossing him his bags.

Christian smiles knowingly at his friend. "You're taking him, aren't you?" He catches the bags.

"He'll be here soon." Jess grinned back.

"Have you named him already?"

"Tartare."

Christian looks blank.

"Steak tartare... Honestly, do you ever know what you're eating or do you just chew?"

Christian just looks at him. "Do I even have to answer that?"

Jess just shakes his head in disbelief. "It's finely chopped, good quality strip steak. Served raw."

"...raw?" Christian looks repulsed. "Before I lived here, my idea of fancy dining was a steak at Denny's." He smirks.

"Ugh." Jess made a face. "Americans."

Christian sticks his tongue out at Jess--quickly retracting it. "Yeah, yeah. We're not all fancy-shmancy like you. Why would you eat raw steak?"

"I'll give you some and you can answer that for me."

"I'd rather not die, thanks."

"Trust me, it won't kill you. You eat steak rare, don't you?"

"Sometimes, yeah...why?"

"You really think that rare beef is any less dangerous than raw beef?" Jess raised an eyebrow.

"...yes..." Christian gives the chef a 'duh' face.

Jess rolled his eyes. "Hopeless."

Christian shrugs. "Yeah. I like it that way. That's why I'm a guard and you're a chef. Where is he?" He looks as though he can hear Dog whining from here.

"He has to pack up his life, Christian, it might take him a little while."

Christian grumbles. "I want fish and chips. That's what England has, right? Fish and chips?"

"Yes. I'll fry some for you when we get home."

"...can't I get some now, while we wait?" Christian...is not good at waiting.

"Oh look, there he is." Thank god, thought Jess.

Tartare waves shyly to the large, frowny man standing by the boat, and grins a little at Jess. He has a small suitcase.

"That's all you're bringing?" Jess raised an eyebrow. Most of the boys had very little in way of a life here, but most of them at least brought more bags.

Tartare nods. "It said that clothes are provided, and that's most of what I have..."

Jess nodded. "Alright. Christian, are we ready?" he grinned, helping Tartare into the boat.

***

Tartare watches for his new home during the boat ride, leaning forward and enjoying the ocean spray. He's curious about Christian, but also intimidated by him. He finds himself staring at the larger man, quite...interested.

Jess watches this with some amusement. He can't wait to see how this works out with Yves, especially since Christian often hangs about the kitchen.

Tartare is distracted from his Christian-watching by the island appearing on the horizon. From the sea, it looks totally deserted, and Tartare looks concerned--maybe this was all a horrible mistake, and he's just about to die.

Jess rearranges his bags, making sure nothing has gotten wet or damaged in the trip. He made sure to get non-historical treats for all his boys, as well as a few things Yves asked him to pick up.

Tartare finds himself pressed up against Christian, having moved closer for comfort without realizing it.

Christian raises an eyebrow looking down at the lean boy. With a glare at Jess, who was grinning his face off, he wrapped an arm around Tartare.

Tartare grins a little and nestles against the larger man, enjoying the feel of his muscles, and his smell...he's powerfully reminded of Troy, simultaneously turned on and depressed.

Christian gave a little sigh, looking over Tartare at Jess with a sort of 'help me' expression. Jess stuck out his tongue at his friend.

Yves has been grooming Dog, but notices him perk up, and figures he must hear the boat. He releases Dog, and follows him at a more lady-like pace to the dock.

Christian hears barking and perks up a little. He relaxes a little. He's getting to be more and more at home on the island, though he's not sure how comfortable he is with that thought. Jess picks up his satchels - having multiplied them getting groceries and junk food- and stands while the boat docks.

Yves waves as he sees the boat come into view, blinking a little as he sees someone who isn't Jess nestled up against his husband. He shrugs--Christian isn't bright enough to be unfaithful behind his back. He goes down to the boat to meet the new boy. "Hi! I'm Yves, Christian's husband," he says, just to make sure the dark-haired boy understands. "I'm the Housekeeper here."

Tartare looks like he's been burnt and leaps out of the boat away from Christian, clutching his bag. "Hi...I'm Ma--Tartare," he says, shyly.

Christian shrugged at Yves, giving him an apologetic look. He wasn't sure if he was in trouble or not.

Jess ignored the drama, passing Yves one of the satchels. "Your contraband, sweet Yves." he said, getting out of the boat.

Yves shakes his head at Christian and smiles, showing he doesn't care. He squeals at Jess, giving him a peck on the cheek. "If I'd known you were bringing so much, I would have brought Dog's cart. Tartare, this is Dog. Dog, Tartare. ...my husband is very imaginative at naming things." He smiles at Christian.

Christian scowled at his wife, taking the bag from him. "I'll carry it."

Jess smirked.

"Thank you, dear," Yves says. "So you've come to join our madness?" the elegant blond asks Tartare. "My husband is the Guard here, in case you were wondering."

"Oh, that... yes." he stuttered, managing a smile for the tall, graceful man. He felt very inadequate standing next to Yves.

"...are you alright?" Yves asks. "I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but you'll love the other kitchen boys, and Roast will take great care of you." He smiles at the shorter, darker boy.

He nods, smiling meekly. He ends up following Jess closely, feeling almost... homesick. If this much drama can happen before he's even in the house, what could possibly be in store for him there?

Yves shrugs--can't be everyone's type. He discreetly steals Dog so Christian won't have that distraction and will be alone with the new boy. "Jess, would you help me put all this away? I'm sure Christian can get Tartare settled."

Jess raises an eyebrow, but says, "Of course. Christian, he'll need his uniform before he can work, just take him to the room and make him feel at home. I'll have your paperwork for tomorrow." the head chef nods encouragingly to Tartare.

Christian gives Yves a look.

Yves looks innocent and ruffles Dog's ears, following Jess.

Tartare is left alone with Christian, looking rather shy and awkward.

Christian shrugged, putting an arm around Tartare. "You okay?"

Tartare smiles up at the larger man. "Mm-hmm," he says, looking a little confused (but certainly not unhappy) at the arm.

"That's good. You'll be fine here."

He led him to the servant's door, taking him down to the kitchen.

Tartare follows meekly, gazing in awe at everything. "Wow...I mean, I heard that it was all nineteenth century, but...wow."

"Yeah, I know. Wait til you use your first chamberpot." Christian smirked. "This is the kitchen." he opened the door, letting Tartare smell everything cooking and see the boys all busily chopping and frying and baking and cleaning. Veal waves at them from his hammock, smiling.

Tartare looks a little overwhelmed, pressed to Christian's side like a nervous child.

"You'll be working with Stock, right?" Christian asked.

Tartare nods.

"Well, that's Stock over there." he pointed to a tall, wiry boy. Stock was busily chopping onions.

Tartare watches him chop for a minute, before glancing at Christian one more time and heading over to the man he'll be working with.

Christian let him go, hoping he wouldn't get in the way of Steak as he crossed the kitchen. Stock looked up, smiling at the boy who still wore non-period clothes. "You must be the new boy." he wiped his hand on his apron and offered it to Tartare.

Tartare smiles back and nods. "I'm...Tartare. Are you Stock? I think we'll be working together."

"We will. It's nice to meet you." Stock smiled, a little shyly. "Well, you should go get set up, you don't start until tomorrow. I'll be done in about an hour or so, I'll meet you in our room and we can have dinner together later."

Tartare nods, relieved. "I'd like that," he says, more confidently. "I'll let you get back to work." He returns to Christian.

"I'll see you soon." Stock watched the boy go before returning to his chopping.

Christian grinned. "Want to see where you'll sleep?"

"Yes please...and I should probably change, I feel a bit weird like this."

"You'll be measured for your own clothes soon, but for now you can borrow from Stock. You're about the same size." Christian led him into the big open room that the kitchen boys shared. There were cots around the room, with a table in the middle and a few places to relax, as well as a hammock. Each bed had a chest at the end and each chest had a name stenciled onto it. Christian dug through the one labeled Stock and found what Tartare would need.

Tartare takes the clothes, expecting Christian to leave while he changes--he's still not used to the communal kind of living the servants have.

Christian watched him undress, not bothering to be covert about enjoying it either.

Tartare undresses more slowly, and lingers naked when he realizes this, blushing a little, but casting little flirtatious glances Christian's way.

Christian smiled at him, gesturing him closer.

Tartare approaches, biting his lip again.

Christian opened his arms for the smaller boy, pulling him in and sitting them both on the bed. His hand trailed down Tartare's side.

Tartare shivers with delight, pressing against Christian's muscles, clearly eager.

Christian leaned over and bit the boy gently on the neck, pushing him down on the bed.

Tartare gasps at the bite, easily allowing himself to be pushed. "Aren't you married?" he asks, breathily.

"Mhm. Yves wouldn't have sent me with you if he didn't want me to fuck you." Christian murmured into the other's ear, nibbling around the lobe. He laid on top of the other, grinding against the boy through the pants of his uniform.

"Ohhh..." Tartare sighs, by way of answering. "Ok then..." he giggles a little. "...won't the others hear?" he asks, grinding back as much as he can beneath the other.

"Do you mind?" Christian sat up, kneeling to unbutton his trousers, his erection springing free.

Tartare gasps and squirms, shaking his head. "Mm-mm..."

"Good." Christian pulled Tartare up to suck him while he unbuttoned his jacket, vest and shirt.

Tartare sucks eagerly, using his teeth just a little, the way Troy always liked.

"Mmm..." Christian groaned, rocking a bit to get more friction. Soon he was naked, after kicking off his boots and pants. He pushed Tartare back. "Are you a virgin?"

Tartare laughs. "...no." He watches Christian, very aroused by what he sees, shivering with anticipation.

Christian grabbed some lube from the side of the bed - most of them kept lube by their beds- and prepared them both quickly. He lifted Tartare's hips and pressed his cock to the boy's entrance, watching for any expression of discomfort.

Tartare groans with delight, arching to meet Christian's cock, pushing himself back so quickly that it almost hurts, making him cry out with his need. He realizes tears are running down his face, but he ignores them, letting them fall to the pillow.

Christian pulled the boy up so he's impaled in Christian's lap, held by his strong arms. He kissed the tears away, rocking slowly and nudging Tartare's prostate.

Tartare cries harder, but his noises are definitely happy ones as he writhes in Christian's lap, driving himself down on the cock

Christian groans, pulling Tartare down further by his hips, one arm wrapped around the boy's back, his other starting to stroke Tartare's cock.

Tartare shakes wildly, arching against the strong arm, enjoying the muscles and mild restraint, groaning as his cock is stroked.

After Christian is reasonably sure Tartare isn't crying out of pain anymore, he flips the smaller man onto his back and fucks him hard into the bed.

Tartare begins moaning in earnest, hands wrapped deep in the blanket, hips rocking to meet Christian's thrusts, feet arched.

Christian groans as he starts to reach his limit, biting the boy's shoulder. He cums in Tartare, arching his back and pinning the boy's wrists as he does.

Tartare screams as he cums, pushing against the hands holding his wrists before going limp, panting, beneath the larger man.

Christian sits up after a moment, pulling out. He grins at Tartare.

"Ahh!" Tartare groans as Christian pulls out, grinning back at him. He briskly wipes his tears away, as casually as he can.

Christian scooped the boy up, taking him to the bed with no name and snuggling with him.