Fit for a King

Story by ChoiceCuts on SoFurry

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It's never a good sign when you wake up bound and caged in a massive kitchen. It's even more horrifying when you realize you and your friends are going to be served as the main course for a classy dinner banquet. Irbis, Karazel and Arios are caught in the sadistic claws of the preeminent Chef Fisher, who wants to turn the moogle, raptoress and dragon into a stuffed roast that will wow an audience. After all, why stop at a TurDucKen when you can dazzle with a DragRaptMog!

Warning, Contains:

  • M/F & Enby/M Sex

  • Cooking Vore

  • Gore/Torture

  • Slaughter

  • Gutting

A cruel and brutal story for NogardTnelis, Irbisgreif and Arios! This one was a lot of fun. Kinda like getting set loose on a bunch of punching bags. I enjoyed the little bits of psychological torture as well as the physical. Also my first time flambeing a victim, gave me a good reason to watch some cooking videos. ;9

I'd also like to give a big thanks to Irbisgrief who (after grumbling over some of my unprofessional contractions and spellings :P) provided the awesome typesetting for this piece! I obviously have a lot to learn. :3


Written by Choice Cuts Deli

Commission for Nogard, Irbis and Arios | November 2020 | 8922 Words

Irbis groaned as they felt the world around them come into being once more. It wasn't painful, just an awareness of their body and limbs tingling numbly. Drawing in a sharp breath, they lifted their head sluggishly while opening their eyes, blinking the heavy lids before wincing in discomfort at the bright fluorescent light that flooded in. Slowly, adjusting to the overwhelming light, the cappuccino-furred moogle found themselves looking out the bars of a tight-fitting metal cage, their green pom dangling before their face as they surveyed their surroundings. The room was massive, warehouse-sized, and bustling with activity, with several smart-dressed creatures of all species rushing about, their uniform white coat and black slacks giving each one a strange sense of cohesion. Irb couldn't quite figure out what their purpose was here, but they quickly realized they were not alone in the strange room.

Opposite their cage they could see one of their traveling companions. The massive green-scaled dragon Arios, was bellowing at three or four of the attendants as he was forced backwards on to a large metal table. The creature, quadrupedal in build, thrashed his legs about, managing to land a hard blow on one of the attendants, kicking the canine creature square in the chest and knocking him to the floor. Three more of the white-coated creatures piled their weight on to the bellowing beast to hold down wings and forearms as others rushed to bind with thick rope, securing the thrashing beast to the metal table with tighter and tighter cinches until he was rendered safe - not even his neck was allowed movement, head strapped firmly to the table so his muzzle hung just over the edge, just out of nipping range of the offending creatures. Irbis watched in a dazed confusion as one of the attendants began to pat Arios's tail, the chunky paw of the polar bear rubbing his hand all the way up to his rump, groping ever so firmly as he did.

"Man, look at the size of this thing. Had to have taken a ton of tranquilizer to take this one down." Tranquilizer? Irbis furrowed their brow softly, mouthing 'Kupo' to themselves softly as they wracked their brain to remember what had happened. They were out together on a Mission. They'd stopped at a crossroads to rest... It was fuzzy but coming back slowly.

"Chef Fisher only orders the finest meat," interjected a pine marten who had wandered over to the table, his hands idly reaching out to grope one of Arios's twin barbed cocks, stroking it slow between his fingers to nurse the scared arousal to a lovely stiffness. "Cian doesn't mess around when it comes to his banquet plans... There we go... does that feel good, meat? Settle down... Heh, I swear there's some intelligence in this one. Shame he's going to be gutted, he'd make a nice display. But should make a great presentation for the banquet feast."

"Roasted dragon? Haven't seen that in a while. Wonder if he'll let us save any of the scales?"

"Nah, most are gonna break and shatter. Might get to pick a few off the floor, kinda like seashell hunting."

"Aww well, at least the dino's gonna be skinned. Cian's got some big plans for her too." Her? That's right! They were at the crossroads. Arios got spooked and started roaring. Kara... Karazel, fell down asleep right in front of Irbis before everything went black. That must mean they got her too.

Irbis didn't need to wait long for their answer, as Karazel let out a piercing screech. Sluggishly shifting in their cage and stretching their green, bat-like wings, the moogle pressed themselves to the bars, peering to the right to see their third party member hanging by her wrists and ankles from a metal A-frame on locked casters. The raptoress, sporting a sleek, green-scaled body, striped with a mane of feathers down her head and back, was coiled tight with muscle tension, quivers shaking the chains and frame that restrained her. One of the attending creatures, an ox by the look of it, was fidgeting with something in front of her, the black box connected directly to Kara's exposed and drooling vent with thin metal wires. An alligator clip on each of her vent lips held her most sensitive and intimate spot open wide for the entire room to see, while a thin metal probe was slid into her soft folds, the end working its way up into her oviduct. As the bovine turned up the voltage, Karazel screamed at the top of her lungs as electricity coursed through her loins, causing her midsection to clench and contract.

The bovine grunted as he shoved a bowl firm against Kara's legs, waiting patiently as the raptoress screamed and spasmed. At long last, her tender folds began to spread as a gooey, glistening white oval began to force its way out from the inside. The pain was immeasurable, enough so that she couldn't even watch as her body was forced to ovulate again and again. Heavy anthro-sized raptor eggs began to plop out into the bowl, first one, more popping out in deep contractions as her whole reproductive system loosened from the trauma and electricity. Four, maybe five eggs, each one coated in raptoress bloom, filled the bowl in succession, the ox leaving the electricity on for an extra two minutes to ensure nothing had been missed. By the time the electricity was turned off, Kara hung limp, curvaceous chest heaving with each slow breath in and out, in shock from the torture she'd been put through.

"Hey Chef Fisher... looks like this one's awake." A tawny furred ocelot called out, one paw grabbing at Irbis's cage bars and motioning with the other. Turning their gaze, Irbis gasped as they saw the other side of the warehouse. The walls were lined with cooking equipment, commercial ranges and ovens in a row, flanked by preparation tables lined with knives, bowls and more. Massive refrigerators and freezers were stocked with every possible ingredient needed to prepare a fine meal. But among these commercial ranges, one stood out clearly to Irbis as they took in their surroundings. It was massive, oversized beyond anything the small moogle could comprehend - a flat top that could easily accommodate three or four medium-sized creatures. Pots and pans large enough to fit a rhinoceros. And most ominous, a massive walk-in oven, the glass window tinted charcoal black from years of use. They couldn't be sure from this point of view, but it looked just big enough to fit... Arios.

"Ahh, good, we wouldn't want the tranquilizer to taint the flavor..." Irbis gulped as they watched an ominous figure slowly approach, a rusty-feathered kestrel, his falcon-shaped head zeroing in on Irbis like a hunted rabbit. Slate-blue wings gently tugged at the black chef's coat he wore, the front pouched out softly from his fluffy and downy chest-feathers as he approached the trapped moogle. "My, my, this one's pretty cute..."

"P-please..." The moogle managed to stammer out in a panic, "Please, you- you can't, kupo!"

"And it can beg too, I wonder if we'll be able to hear it in the middle of the dish..." The chef mused idly aloud as he reached two taloned hands through the bars, the Kestrel gripping Irbis around the midsection. The small moogle gasped, yelping as they felt razor sharp claws dig into their supple belly flesh. Their small size and lack of room to run only made Irbis so much more vulnerable as the powerful Chef began to manipulate the soft and defenseless creature, not seeming to pay much mind to their pleas. Holding Irbis firm against the back bars of the cage with one hand, the Kestrel curled his claws down between the little mog's legs, causing the wriggling critter to stiffen up in fear as the sharp talons dipped between their thighs.

Irb never had the most pronounced of sexual features, partly owing to their body size. But the Kestrel was quick to zero in on the tender morsels between the little moogle's thighs, their chubby legs trying in vain to close and provide a modicum of modesty... Exploring their tender balls, the chef couldn't help but roll the soft and fluffy little spunk-makers around in his clawed fingers, the sharpened tips leaving thin red welts along the soft testes. Those same fingers tightened into a firm hold, ensuring Irbis couldn't move without damaging their own sensitive balls.

"A-ahhnngh! N-no, kupo!!"

"Relax and it won't hurt so much..." The kestrel's opposite hand released off the moogle's midsection, a bemused look on the bird's face as he used his free hand to examine their body. Squeezing the tender flesh of their lovehandles, toying with the meat's chubby little rump, pressing a claw into the supple pecs to feel the slight fatty layer underneath. "...Hmm... I think it will do just fine..." The little moogle gasped as they felt the vice grip on their balls release agonizingly slow, the drop in pressure aching more than the squeeze in the first place. "Today is a very special meal, my little delicacy..." Slowly, Cian drew his thumb up to the tip of Irb's sheath, the tip of his talon touching their peeking pink cock as it crested out of the safety of its sheath. Making soft circles with his thumb, the clawed bird slowly worked the moogle's excitement up, grinning at the response from the helpless little entrée. "It's not often I ask this... but tell me, meat... what is your name?"

"A-ahhh..." The moogle gasped, biting their lip as two clawed fingers found their way to their tender pussy, the feminine organs nestled just behind their balls. Cian's eyes lit with excitement upon realizing that his meal possessed both sexual organs, his fingers spreading the supple lips ever so tenderly, allowing his talons to explore the slick folds while nursing the little moogle's shaft with his thumb. "I-Irbis, k-kupo-po!" Irb shut their eyes tight at the invasion, fingers exploring deep within their slit, gasping as the kestrel played with his food slowly and methodically.

"Irbis... Interesting name for a moogle... tell me, have you ever had meat stuffed within meat before?" The kestrel relaxed his prodding to allow Irbis to speak, coaxing with his thumb upon the now full-mast shaft. But when an answer was not forthcoming, the avian forced both fingers in hard, taloned claws piercing against the little moogle's cervix.

"A-AHH! K-KUPO! NO!!" The cries were enough to catch the attention of their two companions, a worried low bellowing from Arios, whilst the recovering Karazel whimpered out Irb's name, still exhausted as she gasped for air.

"Mmmm... you've not? Why, a well-cooked stuffed roast is simply divine..." The kestrel let off the pressure, slowly withdrawing his talons from Irbis's tender snatch, before pulling both his hands from the cage, allowing the little moogle to collapse upon the floor in a forced-aroused and bleeding mess. Giving his talons a sniff, the chef contemplated the flavor profile before giving his sharp talons a lick to confirm his suspicions, savoring the warm and savory pussy juices. "Mmmm... tonight is a very special meal... I'm going to prepare a triple-stuffed roast for a very discerning clientele." Turning away from Irb's cage, the head chef stepped towards Karazel, the gentle clack of his taloned feet almost a countdown as he focused in on the raptoress. "A DragRaptMog... Has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Not often you can capture three correctly sized victims who happen to be related..."

"Mmmm... and you, sweetheart..." The kestrel let out a soft 'klee!' as he grabbed Karazel around the muzzle, his taloned claws gripping hard enough to penetrate the soft scales on her snout as he leaned in close. "You are more than just a companion to this dragon, aren't you?" The falcon's sleek head pressed up against Kara's, nestled close enough she could nip his feathers if she weren't clenched shut by his claws. "...it protected you... almost like a lover..."

That did it. The metal table Arios was bound to began to warp and flex, rested muscles suddenly springing to life in a defiant, defensive roar. If there was any doubt about the dragon's sentience, it was put to rest as the creature struggled in vain for his lover. But the ropes held. Taught, almost strangling when he tried to lift his neck, leaving the dragon exhausted, with only a few inches of flex gained in his ropes. Karazel whimpered in the kestrel's grip, closing her eyes as she knew there was no use in denying her love. Slowly, Chef Fisher released his talons from the raptoress's muzzle, receiving a rasping plea in return for the kindness.

"Please... don't hurt him..." Kara begged softly through gritted teeth, her request falling on deaf ears as the chef's beak parted, tongue lolling out to lick over the contours of his bill.

"I only intend to consummate your love... and make you one, now and forever... We best get down to business." The same ox who had been attending Karazel's forced ovulation returned, pushing a cart of gleaming metal tools, each one designed to flense skin from flesh, or butcher a victim down to their constituent parts. The chef smiled a wicked grin as he selected a sharp scalpel, turning the blade over in the glistening florescent light, examining the razor edge before turning towards the raptoress's vulnerable body. Kara saw the blade too late to scream, the shocked tense causing her leathery scales and skin to go taught, making it all the easier for her chef to slip the blade between her natural armor. The razor thin metal bit into the skin between her breasts. Slit just under her flesh, the chef held tight on the handle, his taloned fingers having to grip with an awkward yet practiced angle as Karazel let out a panicked scream, chest heaving with each breath as she felt the sliver of pain spread down her chest and belly like a zipper.

The knife blade didn't cut deep enough to open her gut, but that wasn't the point just yet. Kara opened her eyes to watch a thin dribble of blood ooze out from her collar bone, down to her pubic mound, her scales parted down the thin slice. Her jaws hung slack for a moment in dumbfounded disbelief as she dangled by the wrists on the metal rack, Chef Fisher wasting no time sliding the razor thing scalpel between skin and meat and peeling back Kara's flesh. When the scream finally came, it halted and jerked as her horrified body convulsed against the chains, quivering the taught metal links as she watched in terror as her torturer flensed her skin as if she were a live taxidermy.

Irb whimpered softly in their cage, closing their eyes tight but unable to plug the horror out of their ears as their companion was parted out. Occasionally, the kestrel would slip his talons under the pooched out and ballooning flesh, using his fingers to coax a particularly stubborn or scarred spot to release from the meat underneath, her incoherent pleas turning to agonized yeowls and yelps when he dug about in the growing pocket he made.

"Shhhh... it could be far worse, sweetheart... you could be live-cooked like Peking Duck. Your flesh hanging loose on your muscles... slow roasted, bathed in oil regularly as you die... oh no dear, you won't have it that easy." The kestrel worked with a ruthless efficiency, peeling back Kara's skin to reveal slick and blood-soaked muscle. Occasionally, he would pause to cut away at a different area, working to remove Kara's dermis like a wet, scaly sock. All the while, she screeched, she babbled and pleaded in incoherent moans and she cried out in the vain hope someone would pity, or perhaps mercy-kill her.

Each cut of the knife rendered Kara's scaly skin baggier and looser by the second, the peeled flesh beginning to droop and hang on her like a sick and twisted sweatshirt, the girls unceasing pain spreading like fire wherever the kestrel probed his knife. It would not be a complete pelt, the tight shackles ensured that the skin ended at her wrists and ankles. The cuts off her limbs were split down the arms and legs, making the whole pelt drape over her bloody, glistening muscles like a cloak. At last the pain seemed to dull to a low, bodily ache as Cian took stock of what he did, thick and taloned claws caressing along Karazel's neck. Her head was the last, untouched segment of flesh, and the kestrel thumbed the edge of remaining skin with interest.

"You must be in absolute agony, my dear raptoress." It looked as if Kara had bitten down hard enough to shatter a front tooth, the fissured enamel oddly calming as it gave her a point to focus on as she quivered and clenched. "I almost want to preserve this look on your face for all eternity..." Calmly, the dashing falcon picked up a clean scalpel and lowered the blade to Karazel's chin, her eyes following the blade before it dipped out of her view.

"N-N-N-NO!" The tears no longer flowed down the raptoress's streaked face as a thin incision was made along the edge of her muzzle, the kestrel humming a soft tune as he traced the area where flesh met gums, an easy spot to work with the supple skin. As the torturous blade zipped along the edges of her jaws, Kara screeched as she felt her face being flensed from the thin muscles beneath, the abject horror of having a man's fingers rooting around under her face, of feeling it peel back from her skull like a wet sock. It would take some effort, plenty of patience as Kara squealed for her life, incomprehensible gibbering babble escaping her lips as her defining features, her identity, were stripped bare.

Irbis whimpered as they opened their eyes, body turned to face Arios who was wrestling furiously with the restraints. He was distressed beyond all hope, bellowing and lowing draconic pleas as his clawed talons had begun to struggle and scrabble uselessly on the metal table. The same ox who had been attending Karazel had returned, this time presenting a set of sharp knives to the dragon's attending chefs. With a grin, the pine marten who had assisted in tying down the massive dragon took one in his hands, grinning as he carefully gripped one of Arios's calf muscles and placed the blade against his leg at a slight angle.

"Alright, descaling is pretty easy. Just like working with fish, only a little bigger." Arios tensed in his bonds as he felt three, four, more blades come to rest upon his body, the massive dragon acutely aware his struggles could hurt him if he wasn't careful, especially the knife pressed tight to his neck. The wailing cries from Karazel were soon underscored by a rhythmic sound, as the attendants got to work scraping thick draconic scales off his body. He tried to stay brave, just a little longer, but soon the horrid and incessant sensation of a million pegs being ripped from their socket joints was too much, tears welling up in the dragon's eyes as he began to screech and struggle once more. Thankfully for the attendant chefs, ear protection meant that the only danger was getting their hands caught in the wrong spot, or accidentally nicking the meal.

One last attendant manned a commercial grade hose and nozzle, spraying down the dragon to help clear away the debris from his once-beautiful scales. Soon, openings of flesh began to appear all along his body, tender and pink, simple meat for the slaughter as his proud green scales were rendered useless across his body.

The fevered screams from the other side of the room grew quieter as the last stubborn feathers from Karazel's mane came free, the kestrel happily holding a floppy raptoress pelt in his hand as he stepped back around to the front. Kara grimaced in a horrid, forced expression, the pain of being flayed alive was all the worse getting to see her skin, her face, draped loosely over the kestrel's talons. She couldn't even turn her gaze, the sweet girl's perfectly removed eyelids drooping softly from each eye hole, leaving her head with two round and bulging eyeballs, neither held in place by more than the optic nerve. It required far too much focus, trying to maintain the position of her desperate state, wheezing out through her throat as she hung helpless and skinned.

"Come now, hun, you'll look gorgeous as a trophy on the wall. Perhaps I'll add a few dragon's talons below your head, and graft the little moogle's pom atop to create a memorial for you all... You like that idea, don't you? How about a kiss to show me how much you love the thought..." Kara was in no place to pucker her muzzle as the kestrel pressed the floppy skin up against her flensed snout.

"HNNNN! HHHHH! A-AHNNNN!" She pleaded in agony as the bird chef began to slowly wipe over her exposed facial muscles with her own rough scales, smooshing it against her and flaking off clotted blood to allow it to flow free. It was no mistake that Cian nudged one of the loose eyeballs a little too hard, allowing the orb to fall out of its socket, dangling by an optic nerve as it hung on her cheek, facing her flayed body and splayed toes.

After torturing her a little more with the removed pelt, the kestrel folded and set her skin aside on a table, being careful not to crease it too much, before finally selecting a larger filleting knife. Returning to where it all began, Kara gasped as she felt the tip of the blade rest on the base of her sternum, a firm push until a rush of air and a horrified grunt signified that the knife had slipped into the abdominal cavity. The one eye hanging down her face, bouncing off the tender cheek meat, had a full view of the slow gutting process.

The raptoress opened like a zipper, groaning and whimpering as she felt her entrails begin to squeeze out the growing and widening hole. By the time the blade touched her pelvis, Kara sat horrified as a messy slop of intestines and offal had begun to tumble out of her body and mix with the mélange of shattered dragon scales and water on the floor. It would only take a little finesse for the skilled chef to cut and clamp blood vessels, leaving the raptoress empty save for a moist and slick cavity. Slopping the long trail of offal into a bucket, he tied off Kara's anus and vent from the inside, chastising her as he found one last egg inside the ovipositor that didn't quite come out.

"The little slut was holding out on us..." With a smirk, he fished the unfertilized egg out of the slop on the floor and placed it in the basket, "Now... you just relax... we'll get you filled up again soon. But first I must prepare the little mog."

Irbis whimpered as they slunk back in their cage, horrified as they watched the preparation unfold. Each of their friends, ruined by such horrid abuse, and they could only sit and watch. But as the chef approached, Irbis knew there was not much time to act.

"N-No! You... you come any closer, I'll bite! K-Kupo!" Chef Fisher smirked as he walked past the cage and over to one of the stovetops, seemingly unphased by the threat.

"Hmm... I wouldn't want to need stitches on the eve of a fine feast... I suppose if you won't cooperate, I'll have to remove your fur without removing you from the cage." Perplexed, Irbis watched with bated breath as the kestrel selected a bottle of choice cognac, upturning the bottle into a saucepan and applying a thermometer.

"I-I mean it! I'll hurt you for what you did to my friends! Kupo!" It was then that they caught it, a gentle glimpse of blue flame as Chef Fisher tested the butane kitchen torch, a beautiful blue flare as he made sure it worked as needed.

"That's alright. You won't be in much mood to fight once you're seared." Seeing the kestrel remove the saucepan from the stovetop, Irbis began to scramble backwards in a panic, bumping against the metal bars as the kestrel approached with his chosen tools.

"N-no no, wait!" With a flick of his wrist, Cian flooded half a bottle's worth of 130*F cognac across Irbis's diminutive moogle body, staining their green-and-cream furred self in a sticky amber-brown mixture. While not boiling, the fluid temperature would scald in a less than a minute. The little moogle screamed, clasping their hands to their face and falling down in the slick, pungently alcoholic puddle on the cage floor, while Cian poured the rest of the alcohol all about, allowing a few dribbles to flow out the sides of the metal cage. Opening their eyes, already hazy from the splash to the face, Irbis tried to cry out for mercy. Instead, their foggy half-blinded eyes watched a single jet of blue erupt from Chef Fisher's hand.

Arios and Kara watched as the cage housing Irbis erupted in a horrifying gout of fire, yellow tongues licking out the sides as the whole metal cage and table underneath ignited. Amidst the inferno, Irbis screamed, their little body thrashing wildly upon the floor as their wet fur caught and wisped in the seething heat. A few of the attendants even paused their work, some idly wondering aloud if the fire alarm would go off as the flames warped higher and higher, re-igniting itself despite the moogle's furious attempts to roll and put it out. Trapped in the middle of the inferno, Irbis twitched and spasmed, their lungs scalding from the heat and lack of oxygen, their eyes going white and cloudy as the fire scorched the sensitive tissue.

As quick as it started, the flames began to die down, aided by quick use of a spatula through the cage bars to tamp down the reduced glaze of cognac and moogle drippings. At long last, Irbis lay heaving on the cage floor, breathing raspy and slow as they tried to recover, body blister-seared and naked after every inch of fur was wisped away by the fire. Their membranous bat wings lay shriveled and twitching on their back, and their pom was reduced to nearly a stalk, what little remained smoldering like steel wool. Chef Fisher used a set of oven mitts to open the cage and pull out the quivering, still-live meat, making a chuckling remark about how a good flambe should take someone's breath away. The moogle didn't seem to appreciate the joke as they wheezed for air, quivering under the tentative grip of their chef as sharp talons clenched around the potholder, protecting the chef from the hot-to-the-touch meat.

Carefully, Chef Fisher brought the knife close to the moogle's belly, pricking the blade into the flesh and puncturing their little gut. The soft mammal-esque meat separated much easier than Karazel's did, leaving the little mog gaping and whimpering. Their arms reached feebly down their sides in a vain attempt to stem the loss of their internal organs as the kestrel reached inside and clenched a talonful of slimy guts. The much smaller moogle was a lot easier to clean, the ropelike intestines and glistening offal stripped out fistful by fistful, leaving the ragged edges of Irb's belly sagging inwards as they breathed ragged breaths and pleaded from rasped and scorched vocal cords. It was not an encyclopedic inventory of moogle anatomy. Irb's delicate womb and vagina were left intact, hopefully to provide some fragrant steam to help cook the eggs. The same with their cock and balls, almost challenging the little thing to enjoy itself as long as possible.

"Now, my little one... we just need to stuff you, and you'll be ready to cook." Reaching over to the bowl of eggs, the kestrel selected three choice raptor eggs, holding each one up to Irbis as if their blinded eyes would be able to help him decide on an appropriate stuffing. He finally decided on a mixture; two brown-colored eggs and a single white egg, speckled with little black spots, each about a tenth the size of the helpless little moogle. It would take a little effort, stretching the mog's belly, working the flaps of skin tighter, and making sure they were not stuffed in a way that would cause the delicate eggs to crush and splatter, as amusing as moogle and scrambled eggs would be to find on the inside of the massive meal being prepared. When he had finished, Chef Fisher smiled as he took a length of cooking twine and a thick needle, quickly sewing rough X's in the moogle's gut, stitching up their belly like a turkey until the little mog groaned and whimpered from the overstuffing.

Lifting Irbis in his arms, the kestrel smiled and sashayed his stuffed meal towards Karazel, the raptoress looking far worse for her wear as she dangled helplessly on the skinning rack. Breathing heavily, she let out a hissing gasp the moment she noticed Irbis, their blistered body quivering and belly overwhelmed with the intrusive eggs. Carefully, hoping to prevent breaking the delicate stuffing, Irbis was balled up tight, legs tucked at their side, arms nestled behind their back. There was no need to tie them up though. It was clear that Kara's body would become its own prison as Cian pulled back one of the flaps of her midriff and began to tuck the moogle deep inside. The raptoress shook her head violently as she watched in horror as her friend disappeared into the cavern that was her abdominal cavity. The blinded moogle found themselves suddenly jarred by the change in light level, their legs and arms nestled tightly but not tight enough to prevent some squirms and kicks, the likes of which Kara had never felt coming from her insides.

She groaned and cried, hissing out an agonized, "Staaahhh iiiiiihhh!" just as Irb's blinded panic began to frenzy. But Chef fisher was quick to sew up the raptoress, the sliver of light coming through her abdominal walls quickly closing up. As the last trickles of the florescent lighting disappeared, Irbis was sealed in hot and sticky darkness, curled up tight in a fetal position. They would find quickly that the worst part about such a slow roast would be the wait.

The world moved all about Karazel as she felt two attendants unlock the casters that held her frame still and locked in place. The wheels on the skinning frame were, thankfully, large enough that they didn't get caught up in the mélange of gunky guts, pungent alcohol and shattered dragon scales littering the floor. But as Chef Fisher walked his fine, stuffed duck over to her future turkey, he thought it might be fun to add one last insult to injury. Rather than bringing her to Arios's belly, already prepped to be gutted clean, Kara was walked instead to the dragon's front.

The green-scaled dragon was looking far more pink than he should, the quadrupedal beast breathing heavy as the last scales were stripped off his body like a fish. But the sound of moving metal caught his attention, eyes opening to see the horrid sight of his lover, stuffed and hanging, faceless and unable to blink as she twitched and gurgled on the skinning table. Tears began to well in his eyes, but before the dragon could cry out or thrash, the kestrel grabbed a taloned paw hard around Arios's muzzle, cinching it tight and forcing him to listen.

"Shhh... you should be honored, meat. She has suffered for so long tonight, yet she has been so brave. So, I want to give her a reward, and you a last chance to say goodbye." Carefully reaching out his other hand, the kestrel caught a few dewy drops from the raptoress's pursed lips, the outer edge of the vent puckered from the internal tie, but still enough sensitive flesh to moisten. Smearing the musky, feminine juices under Arios's snout, the dragon gasped as he took in that first whiff of his lover, overpowering the strange mix of cooking food, antiseptic cleaners, and fetid guts all about the professional kitchen. "That's a good boy... you want to eat her out one last time... don't you?"

Arios felt his eyes go wide, jaw slacking and tongue lolling out as he snuffled deep, inhaling Karazel's moist arousal. He knew she was dead, that she was in agony as she hung before him, but his lust-clouded mind quickly overpowered as the intoxicating scent of raptoress took his focus. The dragon slowly allowed his tongue to lap out from his jaws, unable to lift his head but tilting softly to the side in an almost muscle memory movement as he lapped off the sweet nectar from under his nose, before gaping his mouth and making short, pleading sounds and squeaks.

Karazel was already beginning to feel the cold embrace of her dying body set in, the struggles and panic of Irbis kicking inside of her had loosened a few of the hemostat ties that kept her veins and arteries closed, the confused and pained moogle slowly smearing the remaining blood over the walls of her abdominal cavity. But she retained enough clarity to know that Arios would hurt her if he tried to eat her out, the flesh flayed right up to the edges of her supple vent and the inside tied off tight. Yet as Chef Fisher guided the wheeled rack closer to Arios, he knew that the lovesick dragon wouldn't pass up one last 'kiss goodbye.'

"MNNNGGH! MNNN!!!" Through gritted teeth, Kara screamed as the broad de-scaled dragon pressed his nose hard into Kara's slit, tongue forcing its way between the pursed folds that felt so much tighter than before. "N-NNNEEENGH!!" Kara's head began to shake side to side, her loose eyeball starting to plap softly against the raptoress's cheek as she pleaded for her dragon lover to stop. But once he got the taste in his mouth, the beastly dragon melted, tongue lapping as he settled in to focus on trying to give her one last pleasure, unaware that there was nothing inside for him to pleasure. Well, perhaps not nothing...

Chef Fisher locked Kara's restraints into place and reached for a chef's knife, the broad blade requiring a little honing before its use. The raptoress pleaded for mercy, her inability to speak only causing more confusion for the dragon. There was no way to tell if she was in pleasure, pain or some horrid in-between. And Arios could only hope he was giving her the send-off she deserved as he happily went about lapping deeper and deeper, the tight hemostat holding her vent closed loosening with each stubborn lick. Cian sighed as he took the blade and pressed it to Arios's gut, the kestrel feeling with his hands for landmarks until he was sure he was just below the rib cage. A hard push, and the blade slipped through the tough dragon's hide.

A woosh of moist air hissed out as Arios cried out, his mouth opening wide and clenching against Kara's exposed muscles, latching against her groin and thighs as the chef worked slow and methodical to open the dragon's belly. Kara didn't think she could cry any louder, until the dragon's slavering jaws bit down against her out of pain. His thick teeth pierced the flesh of her hips and thighs as his tongue finally popped open the wet sock that was her vent, penetrating deep into her abdominal cavity. As attendants guided the gooey and glistening guts out of Arios's body, hands haphazardly pulling at entrails the size of fire hoses, slopping offal off the side of the table, he realized just how bad his lover had been eviscerated by the cruel chef. Yet as he dove against her vent, doing everything he could to stimulate what little of her dewy passages remained, the dragon noticed something else.

Cognac? In a bid to stave off the pain, he focused his tongue upon the foreign taste, rubbing softly against something fleshy inside. It wriggled in response as his tongue lapped against the supple flesh, yet unable to move far from the position where it was. Slowly, he pushed his tongue up to the edge of its length, the massive dragon feeling woozy and lightheaded as he felt his blood running free from the cavity. A sharp pain stopped his movement cold, the agonizing sensation of pain between his thighs as Chef Fisher pierced his scrotum. The startling pinch on such a sensitive spot caused him to jump, the tip of his tongue forced against the strange alcohol-flavored treat, tongue-tip settled in between soft fleshy folds as he did. Like shucking an oyster, the tender balls were squeezed and rolled until each one popped out of the sack, dangling by their fibrous cords. The kestrel let them hang, virile and warm as he grabbed a set of kitchen shears. It only took an unceremonious snip to sever the two cords, the attached end slithering back up and into Arios's empty sack as the mighty dragon was emasculated. A tear rolled down his cheek as he knew his minutes ticked down with every humiliating act.

Focused upon his last chance at cunnilingus, Arios whimpered through the pain as he savored the rich and earthy taste of raptoress. His distraction from the torture only aided the kestrel as his taloned claws turned to work on the dragon's thick and hefty dual cocks, each one swelling in size and girth as clawed fingers gripped and stroked them to a swollen heft. A thin dribble of precum drooled from the tip as the dragon whimpered, knowing his last moments of pleasure had come. Just as Arios felt the blade lay against the base of one of his cocks, he opened his eyes to see a horrific sight. Karazel's gut wasn't simply sewn up, it was moving with soft squirms and struggles, alighted by the prodding and invasive dragon's tongue that had crept all the way inside. And worse, he recognized the movement, the two small hands pressing out against Kara's raw and bloody gut, and muffled voice whimpering a confused, "K-Kupo-po..." His tongue had buried itself deep enough to rest against Irbis's tender folds, once-fuzzy balls and cock nestled softly against his tongue. The horrifying realization blanked from Arios's mind as pain wracked his loins, two sawing slices and his cock was gracefully severed from his body, the other quickly gripped and carved off before it could go flaccid from the pain.

As blood continued to flow free from Arios's body, he felt his chef and executioner approach his pink and vulnerable body, a broad grin on his face as he held the now-useless sex organs in his claws, setting them down just next to his face. The dragon whimpered as he closed his eyes, mouth still forced hard against Karazel's loins, the quivering raptoress heaving with each breath as she watched the kestrel grip her lover taught around the muzzle, holding him firmly against her as the blade pressed against his neck.

"You've had your chance to say goodbye. Relax. Deep breath." It was clear Arios understood, his eyes closing and nostrils flaring as the warm nectar dripped from his companions' intimate parts, flooding his nose with the scent of feminine juices one last time... The deep breath halted almost quick as it began, the knife plunged into Arios's unprotected throat, a sickening gasp as air sucked in through the open wound. Karazel screamed, clenching her abdomen down hard on Irbis as she tried to thrash, the situation not helping as her lover began to struggle and pump hot blood down her exposed thighs. Drawing the knife the rest of the way across the dragon's neck, the kestrel used his free hand to hold up his muzzle, ensuring that the struggling tongue stayed lodged inside of Kara for as long as possible, as the light faded from his eyes. The rapid struggles forced the raptoress to gasp and shudder as the slightest sensation of arousal tortured her ruined pussy, the little remaining flesh squeezing back on the dragon's tongue as if holding his hand all the way to death.

Allowing the dragon's head to slump, Chef Fisher chuckled and clapped his hands softly, a broad smirk on his face as he announced, "Alright, let's get this roast stuffed, we're already behind schedule!" Karazel felt her tense muscles suddenly burn like fire as the chains supporting her to the frame were released, the buildup of lactic acid in her muscles causing every inch of her body to scream upon the first contraction as she collapsed into a heap on the floor. Irbis was no better for the wear, pressed taught against the raptoress's diaphragm, they gagged and gasped in the close confines, their scorched bat-like wings fluttering uselessly against the rhythmic heartbeat of their enveloping prison.

Several of the attendants descended upon Karazel, gripping taught at wrists and ankles, pulling the metal chains and shackles tight as she screamed and cried, her popped-out eyes uselessly swaying before her face as she felt her arms and legs against her body. Knees to belly, wrists crossed under the curves of her chest, she almost cradled the large bump that Irbis created in her belly, at least until the chains began to draw taught, cinching her already agonized body into a tight little ball.

"Little tighter, I think she'll be hard to fit inside..." Cian said with a smirk as he opened up the flaps to inspect the innards of the dragon's body, the strained and stressed package that was Kara and Irbis hefted up onto the metal table that Arios's corpse was pinned to. Unlike Irbis, Kara had no benefit of blindness, though her eyes hung at such an odd angle it was hard for her to focus properly as she was pushed ass-first into the deepest gut of her ex-lover, Frantically, she tried to make her jaws work, to say something, anything, to plead with the captors for mercy, to kill her now... Instead, her broken voice wheezed and hissed as raw muscle was ground against thick and leathery dragon flesh, the girl reduced to near maddened babbles as she was tucked inside. Several of the attendants worked to sew up the imposing roast, needing to grip and tug the dragon's flesh around the massive bulge Kara presented, using each stitch of the needle like a pully to zipper up the edges like a massive, formerly-living sleeping bag.

Before the gut was sewn up, Chef Fisher leaned into the gaping hole, putting his face at Karazel's level, and whispering softly, "My dear... you did not seem to appreciate your lover's final gift. I don't often allow a conjugal visit before the end. But, perhaps you'll appreciate a different parting gift." Reaching his taloned claws in, Karazel felt her useless jaw opened wide before something turgid and spongey was stuffed inside. It was not as long as a full sausage, but it was certainly hefty and thick. A second one, this time a little larger, followed quickly, both of the objects tainted in blood as they worked inside. But with each labored breath through her nose she could smell it. Arios's precum drooled out the tip at the back of her throat, the musky male scent hot on her tongue all the while. "One last blow job, a thank you for your lover's kindness. Something to focus on. Have a pleasant death, dear."

A few last stitches and the final preparations could unfold. A simple baste of herbed butter was brushed over the dragon, designed to give a crisp skin to the meal. Arios suffered a few last indignities that he was thankfully not around to experience. His eyeballs were removed skillfully with a mellon baller, the little orbs popped out one at a time and replaced with a testicle in each socket. All the same, a juicy butternut squash, carved and lubed with more butter, was forced up and into the dragon's ass, stretching the broken hole. Several of the attendants cracked lewd jokes as the cramped space inside the dragon's gut got smaller, wondering if Karazel was in a position to fuck herself and ride the squash to her death. At long last, the meal was ready for a slow and torturous roast, the attendants removing the locks on the table's casters and wheeling it towards the kitchen's grand walk-in oven.

Head-forward, Arios was overshadowed by the looming oven's maw, the warm glow of electric coils illuminating his body like a turkey in the dim glow. It was a fitting metaphor, for inside the duck and hen were struggling no less fiercely as the limited air all about them grew fetid and stale. Their pleas and struggles left them unable to hear the massive oven door closing behind them, cinching shut with a lever-actuated lock, plunging the two remaining friends into the stillness of the oven.

It would take some time for the first signs of heat to seep inside of the dragon's body. By the time the shimmering butter was sizzling in the pan, Kara just began to notice the rise in temperature. She thought perhaps her mind was playing tricks on her at first, but the sensation began to grow all around her, the stomach acting like a massive dutch oven as it radiated heat inwards slowly, filling the air with the first scents of cooking dragon meat. Soon Kara began to feel her tortured muscles burn. Touching the dragon's abdominal walls felt like fire, and with no way to escape, her flesh began to blister.

Deeper inside, Irbis was biding their time, trying to stay as still as could be as they realized their struggle would only hurt Kara even more. But just as the first sensation of heat began to seep into the deepest prison surrounding Irb's body, they realized Kara wouldn't be able to provide the same kindness back, as she faced the brunt of the roasting. Just as the walk-in oven opened to baste the dragon, Kara let out the last visceral scream she could muster, her body flailing against the chains in a frenzied attempt to escape, jostling and bumping the dragon's abdomen. But bound as she was, it was Irbis who suffered the most.

"S-so-nnngh! Stop! STOP!! KUPO!" Irbis managed to wheeze out a hot and humid cry as Kara's thrashed against her restraining chains, the agony of cooking to death causing her body to clench and twist, putting an unnatural pressure on Irbis's body. They screamed in pain as Kara thrashed her shoulders, the sudden motion catching their right leg and popping it clean from the socket. The backswing rattled Irb's head, concussing their brain and causing the blind little moogle to see stars. Another hard clench squished their arms tight against their sides, the horrific pop of two ribs making Irb screech from deep inside as a sucking chest wound opened from a shard of rib.

And yet, for all her strength, Kara hardly moved enough to open the flap of flesh holding her in, just a little peek of light through to freedom was all she got. Her ruined eyes had already begun to swell and solidify in the heat, her flesh beginning to hiss and spatter from the torture that never ended. Even if she could see, all she would note was an unlucky attendant working to baste the dragon at the sweltering edge of the oven's door, before feeding the wheeled trolly back into the oven to roast, back into the darkness to suffer.

There was little comfort dying this way, the raptoress embraced on all sides by her lover, the scent of his broiling flesh starting to brown and crisp, her own muscles becoming unresponsive as her struggles faded. Irbis could hardly tell when Kara became unconscious, the coordinated jerks and moans quickly turning to involuntary twitches and gurgles from reactive lungs sputtering to keep oxygenated. Kara's belly continued to heat, the seething warmth turning her innards into a crock pot, the temperature growing far slower. Long minutes passed, Irb whimpering as they tried in vain to grope about, fingers grasping the twine sewing her shut, but unable to get purchase on it enough to work them free. It would be of little use, without their guts, there would be no chance at life. Curling up tighter in a fetal position, as the fluids collecting inside Karazel began to drip and drool all about them, Irbis whimpered as they fondled their bulging, egg-stuffed gut.

"Maybe... It will... protect... them... K-Kup... o..." The thoughts faded in the little moogle's mind as the temperature inside began to rise, a balmy 140*F finally ending the little mog's consciousness. Like falling asleep, Irbis settled in, legs kicking, arms twitching and grasping. There was no way for Chef Fisher to know through the oven window whether they were alive or dead. But he trusted in the recipe. Low and slow.

Chef Fisher smiled broadly as he honed his knife, dragging the blade across the steel with a practiced flare, smoothing the edge to a fine hone. He gave the edge a test with a feathered fingertip, the blade easily slicing through the delicate little down. Perfect. He smiled as he set the knife down on his carving station next to the carving fork he had prepared. His eyes turned up to see the bustle of the banquet hall workers all around, setting silverware, preparing passed appetizers and setting the stage for some grand function attended by rich socialites. This would be his opus feast. And at the center of it, was the trio of perfectly roasted friends.

DragRaptMog was a very unique dish, and the chef demanded it be carved perfectly, his best sous chef working diligently on the process to ensure it was done just right. A large portion of Arios's body, crisp and golden from its time closest to the heating elements, was removed, a diamond-shaped slice drawing a line from the edge of his sternum, up, under the arm, to the middle of his back, then down again to a point just above the hip, and finally around to the front. Carved away, the large slab of dragon bacon crackled as the knife progressed carefully so as not to disturb the contents. Once removed, the attendants carefully carted off the outer covering to be broken down into more manageable slices of crisp dragon belly.

Karazel was visible next, her body slick with juices that had coated her meat, acting more like a braise than a roast. The mélange of drippings was suctioned up from around her to create a lovely jus to serve alongside her body. Cautiously, the sous chef worked to free a similar sized slice of flesh from Karazel. Opening the roast as if it was a model of the planet earth, each layer exposed something different and unique for the coming meal.

As the braised raptoress was removed, settled into a warming tray of her own juices, the sous chef got a fright as Irbis shuddered, the little moogle's arm twitching in the opening, the arm grasping softly at the edges of their prison as they lay there.

"C-chef! I-it... um... it's still..."

"Alive?" The Kestrel asked with a smirk as he stepped forwards, slipping his knife between Kara's flesh and twisting it just enough to let some air in for the agonized moogle. "...not in any sense we'd know. The beauty of this dish is that the one in the middle might survive."

"You... you poached it alive?"

"Brain dead, twitching, gurgling. Trapped in a state between life and death, all for our diners' entertainment." Slipping the blade between the rough twine holding together Irbis's belly, Cian popped each stitch with a slow drag of the sharp knife, letting the eggs housed deep within their belly tumble out. He collected them carefully, before bringing them back to the carving station. Setting three of them in a bowl, he took the remaining raptoress egg and placed it in an oversized egg cup, giving the inside a moment to settle before tapping it with the knife.

The brittle calcium carbonate eggshell, cooked slow and torturously inside the little moogle, finally collapsed. Carefully picking aside the shell fragments, Cian gave a little taste to the specially prepared egg, the insides scrambled in a lovely soft custard, flavored with the taste of moogle. Sighing, he savored the richness of the raptoress egg, deciding it was perfect. Checking his watch, there was but a half hour before showtime, and the kestrel decided he should grab himself a drink from the bar before it was time to plate and serve the throngs of high society guests. He didn't even notice that one of his attendants was putting out signage for each of tonight's specials:

Tonight's Special: DragRaptGon

Broiled Dragon Belly with Mixed Root Vegetables

Braised Raptoress with Potato au Gratin

Live-Poached Moogle Flambé with Raptoress Hollandaise and Grilled Asparagus

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