A Rather Revealing Dinner

It had been a day. Not the worst, not the most exhausting, not the best, nor the most productive. Just a day, for some reason when I got to my apartment complex that evening I felt emotionally and physically numb.

I had gone to the market and picked up some items for dinner as it was the start of my weekend and I was hoping that maybe I could at least improve my numb melancholy. I would have steak, I love my red meat. That meant then I would be swinging by my favorite butcher shop too, with luck he'd have some marrow for me as well.

Okay, so if I am having steak then I'd better get an onion, some asparagus, a pre-mixed hollandaise packet, and some sweet potatoes. Did I still have any red wine left? Wait, what if I changed my mind and wanted an amber? It had been a while since I had my favorite amber. I'd better get both just in case. Oh, and fresh garlic.

I was starting to actually feel again at the prospect of a delicious meal to kick off the weekend. It didn't take me long to get what I needed and get back to the run-down apartments.

A few kids were running stark-naked in the road, someone had hit the hydrant again and it was still sweltering out even though the sun was making its way down. The sound of their laughter brought a smile to my face, oh to be young again and not worry about the stupidities of adulthood.

I made my way to my floor and did my best to avoid any of my neighbors as many of them were either coming home from work, or getting ready to hit the town. Finally, my door, a welcome sight.

I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, why would I think anything would be amiss? This was my sanctuary and nothing out of the ordinary happened unless the neighbor kid came over to escape his abusive parents. Not physically abusive, more emotionally and mentally abusive, harder to prove that to protective services.

So, I was home, I set my groceries on the counter and excitedly explained to myself in the 'safety' of my own space "Fuck yeah! Steaks on the menu tonight bitch!" my little celebration and burst in positivity faded quickly as I heard a muffled sound coming from my washroom. "What the fuck this ti-"

The words caught in my throat as I opened the door and saw two men standing over my hog tied ex. My first thought, 'Why the hell is he here?' my second thought? I didn't have one before asking "How do you fine gents take your steak?"

The two exchanged a quick glance, just as confused about my lack of fear as my ex seemed to be confused as to why I wasn't running away in fear to go get help... at least that is what I imagine as I look back on the situation.

The taller of the two responded first, "Steak?" I felt a need to clarify the new dynamic of this situation to the men, "Yes, steak, you're in my apartment therefore you are now my guests, that man you have tied is not a guest. He's an ex and did not have permission to be here, so whatever the hell you're doing to him I will consider it a service to me. Now then, I was planning on having a steak tonight, so, how do you take your steak?"

The other now replied, "Well done!"

To which his taller partner smacked him upside the head and glared.

"What? She's offering steak, you know I would never turn down steak." He rubbed his head as he spoke.

The taller one was going to say something but I quickly interjected, "Ew, no, that's shoe leather. Try again, I will not ruin a good steak with 'well done'."

The two looked at me again, taken aback by my rebuke I think.

"We are not staying for steak, get a rope and tie her up." The taller one said.

"Poppycock! I'll be damned if I'm a bad hostess. You can do whatever you damn well please, but only after we've had a decent meal." I said indignantly. I was not going to take no for an answer.

It had been a while since I've had company, and these two seemed like interesting folk, scary as fuck and I needed to make a better escape plan, but still interesting.

The taller, a well built blonde, was actually quite attractive. I tend to orbit towards blondes despite fantasizing about the ideal of the 'tall dark' type.

The other, more slender and only shorter by a few inches with somewhat shaggy black hair covering an eye (I later found out he did that because it was a glass eye he had recently received and was still a bit self-conscious about it), started up again.

"C'mon, she's insistent. We can't be rude guests now. Besides you're good with this guy for now, I'll keep an eye on her." He had a pleading tone that made me think of a child asking for a lolli-pop.

The taller one growled but relented, "Fine, but if anything goes south we shoot them both and make a quick break. You know how I like to take my time, so make sure nothing goes south."

To this the shorter one pumped his fist and we both went to the kitchen. He leaned against the wall and kept a close eye on me.

"So, how do you want your steak?" I asked as I prepared the ingredients. "Oh, right I need his order too." I quickly added.

The shorter guy had a boyish grin as he watched me moving about, it was actually kinda cute. "Huh? Oh, well since you refuse to make it right I guess I'll go with medium well."

I rolled my eyes and he continued to speak.

"He'll probably take his medium rare." the man chucked a thumb behind himself, meant to refer to his partner.

"'K, I can do that." I said as I continued working in the kitchen, "And to drink? I picked a dark red wine to pair with it myself, but I also have some Amber's, milk, coffee, water..." I looked at the man from over my shoulder and waited for his answer.

He mulled it over and yelled back to his partner first, "Yo Mike, what you want to drink?"

"Don't use my name you idiot!"

"You plan on kill'n them anyway so what's the problem?"

"I'll fucking kill you too dumbass."

"Drink?"

There was a pause in the exchange.

"Hello, drink?"

"What's available?"

"Dark red, Amber, milk, and water."

Another pause.

"Red."

Shorty looked back at me, "I guess we're all having wine then."

It was around that time I was thinking, 'Mushrooms would have been a fantastic pairing!' "Bueno, wine it is."

It didn't take me too long to get everything together, the man watching me was good about not distracting me with conversation, I guess he was content just watching me work.

Finally, dinner was just about ready, I only needed to plate it. So, I took shorty by the hand and led him to take a seat at the table. "Wait." I said to him and then made my way to the washroom to fetch 'stretch'.

I felt bad I hadn't asked for their names, I would at the table. "Dinner time my good sir." I said as I popped my head into the door frame.

My ex was struggling, grunting and muffled through the gag, and mostly stripped of his attire. I looked at him with all the disdain I had for him.

We broke up because he was a cheating abusive piece of trash that stole my paycheck on more than one occasion to fuel his drug habit before becoming a peddler himself.

"Don't you start, for the life of me, you should still be behind bars you piece of shit." I hissed. I had little empathy for him.

Tall blond and moody glared at me, then at my ex "You do anything and by the time I'm done with you you'll be begging for death." He warned. I'll admit, that sent a chill up my apathetic ass too.

Finally seated, I poured the wine and placed the plates before my guests and my own seat. It looked wonderful. Steak, and asparagus with hollandaise and a side of caramelised vidalia onions. I outdid myself with this.

The presentation, the smell, it was perfect. Now for the taste... The two men went to cut up their steak when the tall one stared at me. I paid him no mind as I cut my own steak.

The shorter one cleared his throat and also looked my way, "Hey, you forget to cook your own food?" He asked.

I looked down at my steak and then to the men and smiled. "Gentlemen." I began, "A steak like this, choice a cut of red meat, should be enjoyed in full flavor, raw, and fresh. In this way it is most delicious to me, easy to cut, easy to chew and savor, and easy to digest. I have a trusted butcher so I don't worry about it being raw."

I took a pause to chew a bite and continued, "You see, I believe food should be an experience. It should be savored, and enjoyed. Food holds such an important role in our lives. We celebrate with feasts, we mourn with feasts, we comfort ourselves with food, and obviously it is a source of energy and substance."

I paused again for another bite, at this point I had the full attention of the two, "Food can transcend this though. As it should. Like I said, it should be an experience. It is as sensual as it is paramount to humanity."

Let me take a moment here to let you know, I am not an actual foodie, but I was on a roll with this. Also, I wasn't so naive to my predicament as my apathetic nature may lead one to believe.

I was fully aware these two had every intention of taking my life, after all I saw their faces and heard their voices, I could easily point them out to the police.

I had to do something to distract and possibly shock, in order to buy time to get my ass out of this mess. So, what better way to distract, I thought to myself, than to draw a correlation between food and sensuality?

I mean, at this point I could tell shorty was after my body, he had a bit of a lecherous look while he watched me. I figured I'd carry that energy to the meal we were collectively partaking in.

"Please understand my good sirs," I continued on, "Your experience will be directly affected by the intention of the one who prepared the meal. Growing up, at least in my family, dinner was comforting and enjoyable, and memorable as a positive thing. Why? My mom loved her family, and she wanted us to be happy and healthy. It was conveyed in her meals."

Another pause, another bite, my audience had truly become my captives now. I set my fork and knife down and looked them both in the eyes, "You see? Intention is everything. I must admit, I do have a fantasy of being tied to a table, blindfolded, and having a meal of sorts served from on my mid-section as if I were nothing more than a plate."

"To feel the stab of a fork as the consumer stabs his meal, the serration of a knife either lightly brush my skin, or hell, slice my flesh." a pause for a drink, "Though not many are inclined to the metallic taste of blood, unless you're into vampirism or cannibalism."

"Anyway, it wouldn't just be the feel of the cutlery either. Imagine, if you will, the sensations! It could be a cold meal, or better yet, something hot to sear my exposed flesh." I made a point to visibly shiver, "Such a titillating thing, such a tantalizing event, a bit erotic in its own right."

I stopped there, allowing the thought to settle as I continued to eat. The other two just stared at me. Finally stretch spoke up.

"You're a right freak then eh?" He started back up eating his meal. Shorty seemed to be even more interested in his own food as well. I wondered if this would be good enough a set up to help me escape soon.

I could tell this was not the first time these guys had broken into a place, they probably wouldn't forget this. Hopefully they would be thinking about it from a jail cell.

"A freak? Says the man with every intention of gladly spilling my blood and watching the life slowly dim from my eyes. Or, will you be taking my life without spilling my blood?" I leaned toward the man, a playful grin on my lips, "I am quite fascinated to know."

"Fuck around and find out." Was his only reply. Shorty looked a bit jealous at my act of moving closer to his partner, well, my attention was at this point solely on stretch, I honestly was curious.

Shorty once again cleared his throat. When I didn't seem to notice he spoke, "The meal is delicious, thank you, and he won't be working on you, that would be my job. He's into dicks, I'm into chicks."

Slowly my eyes moved to look at shorty, otherwise I didn't move, "That so huh?" Yeah, of course, that's kinda my luck. Not only do I gravitate toward blondes, but I am also attracted to the unattainable.

"I'm into chicks dumbass, just bi-curious." stretch grumbled and was just about to finish his meal. I would need to think of something, shorty's gay comment threw me off my survival plotting.

"Well, are you two interested in dessert?" I asked, I did have a plan for dessert even before I walked into this fiasco.

"If it's comparable to this masterpiece of a meal, I'm in." shorty was all too eager, probably more so to get into my pants than anything else.

Stretched rolled his eyes, "Well, I guess we're having desert then, what else will become of this fun little slumber party I wonder." His tone was not that of an excited guest. I almost felt insulted.

Oh, I still hadn't gotten their names.

"Not that it matters a whole lot, given I am not long for this world, but what are your names?" The question I guess instantly diffused what was about to be an argument between the two.

They both stopped. Like, deer in headlights or something. I guess there really is a noticeable pause when your mind, had it been gearing up for one thing, is suddenly thrown off track and shifts into a different mindset. Do all humans have a compulsion to answer such easy questions? Or was this more of one of those 'pop-quiz' reactions? I didn't know, but the tension seemed to instantly drop.

Stretch gave shorty a look of 'Don't answer'. I don't know why but the fact that shorty had referred to stretch as 'Mike' earlier just didn't dawn on me at all. I will say that it was because at that point I was trying to wrap my mind around my predicament.

"Seriously, I really don't think it matters." shorty protested.

Stretch maintained his glare, "He's John Doe, I'm John Smith."

"Bullshit." I scoffed and took their empty plates, "You're gonna do God-knows-what to me, at least afford me the decency of tell'n the heavenly host who sent me their way."

Stretch raised a brow, "You don't believe me? John, show the lady your driver's license."

Shorty retrieved the card from the wallet chained to his pants. Yeah, like it was the most early 2000's thing to see a wallet chain.

I took the proffered card, "I'll be damned." It actually said 'John Doe'. Apparently his dad was a small town comedian no one had ever heard of outside that town.

"Fuck dude, you're a kid!" I was actually surprised, he was only seventeen (and at this point 'I love Rock'n Roll began playing in my head).

That elicited the only emotional response outside of vexation from stretch. Well at least now I know why shorty, excuse me, John, was acting like a horny teenager. He was a horny teenager.

"S-shut up..." he looked away blushing.

Seriously, he was holding so much power earlier being the guy who broke in with intent to rape (apparently that really was his intent as I found out later) and now he was being laughed at by me, and snickered at by his partner.

What's worse, apparently they were cousins, and this was the first time he wasn't the get-away car driver, and it was going to be the first time for him, like lose his virginity, not just breaking and entering virginity either.

I would have felt bad... who the hell am I kidding, I wouldn't have felt bad at all if I was an outside observer, this was actually pretty damn hilarious.

"And what about you?" I turned back to stretch, "You seriously John Smith?"

The guy seemed to ease up a bit on the whole silent moody murderer type and took out his ID. I guess he didn't have a drivers license. He handed it to me.

"Mike Doe. You guys are seriously a couple of Doe's, thats crazy." I commented, handing Mike his card, noting that he was a few years older than myself.

"Well, I'm gonna get started on dessert, it'll probably be around twenty-minuets so make yourselves comfortable. Oh, be sure to give Derek, the dipshit you have hog-tied, a lot of attention to his feet. He has a foot fetish. He also has a dental fetish that is creepy as fuck, but I don' think you want to remove the gag." I said to Mike and went about getting the desserts ready.

It took exactly twenty-minutes, prep, cook time, and cleaning, for me to finish. I was pretty proud of that as I hated dishes. I still hate dishes.

John had been watching me again the whole time, though unlike when I made dinner, it felt like he was stewing in anger and embarrassment.

"Hey, kiddo, don't be mad." I said in a sweet, slightly sultry, voice. "I didn't mean to upset you, it jus surprised me. You look closer to my age. That's a complement." I said and took the dishes to the table.

He followed me to the table, sat where he had earlier and then practically gruffed, "And just how old are you?"

I put my hand to my chest and feigned shock, "Why sir, such audacity! You should never ask a lady her age." This time I added a 'Georgia Peach' accent.

Now he smirked and regained that playful vibe he had earlier, "Oh, I am quite audacious."

"Well, audacious one, would you mind retrieving the old man?" That got a laugh. Good, if they let their guard down it would be easier for me to get away.

When everyone was ready, I made a show to add the finishing touch with a confection torch, "Voila! Bruleed beef marrow under a bruleed sweet potato puree."

I liked to experiment with unorthodox ingredients. The two looked at me like I had three breasts. "Just try it okay?" I sat down and cracked into mine.

At this point my dears I would like to say that they loved the unique treat so much they decided to leave and let me live another day. Yes. I would LIKE to say that.

It was disgusting. Hands down worse than the pickled pigs-feet that had been standing in the heat of a hundred degree day for six hours that I had been dared to eat.

I tell you, and I can't emphasize enough, just how putrid that dish was. The flavors did not mix well at all. Alone, they are great, together, they are shit.

We unanimously tossed it out the window. I wouldn't use those ramikins again anyway after that disaster.

"Oh.My.God. I am mortified, that was terrible."

Mike glared at me, "Terrible is an understatement. If you hadn't eaten some yourself I would think you were trying to poison us."

After washing his mouth out in the kitchen sink John added, "Yeah, and after we've been so accommodating as guests."

That seemed to set the mood. John, for all his unsavory traits, was actually a pretty decent kid.

He didn't get too severe a sentence since it was his first offense, and even his cousin spoke in his favor. He convinced the younger man to make a deal.

The energy he brought really did ease a lot of the tension. This was good for me.

I don't know what was going on in the washroom. I don't want to know what went on in the washroom. I've not heard anything from Derek since this incident, and I hope I never do, so I hope I never know what happened in the washroom. Yeah, Derek survives this whole ordeal. I know, kinda bullshit.

John and I were on the couch watching a movie, snacking on popcorn because dessert was a bust. The kid fell asleep after downing two of my Ambers. I still say he owes me a new pack. I really like my Amber and the little shit didn't ask.

He just went about sacking the majority of my electronics (my DVD player was obsolete but operable, and my TV was a piece of shit.) and what little jewelry I had. Pretty much anything small and profitable. Now, he was snoring away, sleeping like good 'ol Rip Van Winkle.

Mike came out from the washroom and plopped himself onto the single seater. He looked beat. There was a bit of blood flecked on his shirt, and sweat all on his brow.

Yeah, he was beat, his breathing was pretty heavy like he had just completed a decent cardio. Though, damn, he looked pretty damn sexy.

I had to chide my own fantastical thoughts and try and replace them with formulating a good escape.

I slowly stood, Mike didn't stir, his eyes were closed, I made my way to stand behind him and gently laid my hands on his shoulders.

"Hey, relax okay?" He jumped slightly at my touch, at first tense, but eased up a bit as I began to rub his shoulders.

My dears, I am not easy, I am calculative. He let out a quiet moan, or coo? I don't know but it was a good sound.

"That, actually feels nice." He managed through a slightly strained voice, like he was trying to maintain the sounds of a man in complete control, but slowly turning into putty in my hands.

I squeaked out a mix between shock and a laugh, "It's supposed to." My voice came out at a higher pitch than I had wanted it to. I guess the stress and absurdity was really hitting me now.

He relaxed even more in the chair. "Can you rub my head a bit, like run your nails over lightly." He asked.

I did as requested. No way in hell I was going to deny him now, I didn't have a death wish... at that moment anyway.

"Yeah, like that..." I could hear even his voice start to relax as I ran my fingers through those lovely locks.

Yeah I was in a dangerous position, but I still appreciated the Adonis in my grip...

He was thoroughly enjoying this, though every time John let loose a loud snore, I felt a slight jump from Mike.

He stood up abruptly, pulled me by the arm from around the chair, "Bedroom."

He didn't need to say anything else for me to understand the implication. '

I'm dead. This is it. I'm fucking dead. It was a short life, but at least I had some baller steak before I die.'

I took lead to the bedroom, Mike still tightly gripping my wrist. Once inside my tiny bedroom I stood still. Mike looked around and laughed.

"Wow, didn't think a chick like you would be into cars." I had posters of F-D and F-1 all over the room.

I shrugged, "What can I say? I like drifting, and I like fast machines. Can ya blame a girl?"

He made his way to my mattress and sat down, undoing his belt, "Well, lets see what that mouth of yours can do."

My dears, I used the term 'Adonis' to describe this man earlier, how accurate that term is. Wow, never have I seen such an exceptional dick.

Don't get me wrong, please don't get me wrong, I was still quite aware of my strange situation. Maybe the danger helped to enhance the excitement.

I hesitated, he didn't like that much as I found evident by that oh so cold of a glare.

"Yessir." I said quickly and knelt down. Now, I'm pretty good at sucking and tongue play, but I've never dealt with a cock this big.

"Make sure to suck the balls too." He said and laid down on the bed, legs on the side, and my head between his knees.

'I'm fucking dead... ' So I did as told.

I decided to start with sucking off his balls. They were big, I could only fit one at a time in my mouth without my teeth getting in the way, he seemed to like that. Then I went to work on his dick, licking up and down the shaft first and then flicking the tip some with my tongue before finally taking it in more, deep throating for a bit and then going back to playing with the tip.

Now, I was sucking like my life depended on it because, well, my life depended on this! There was saliva all down my front, dampening my shirt, and I could feel it between my breasts mixing with sweat. I didn't notice he had taken his shirt off, not until he pushed me off his dick and hooked a finger under my chin, lifting my head to look at him.

"Good job, don't think I've had a better blow. Now, strip."

This time I raised a brow, "You're a man of many words."

He just shrugged, "Strip."

I did as I was told, despite being naked he still had the upper hand as he was huge, and I haven't so much as been to a gym in years.

I didn't want to, I really didn't want to, okay part of me wanted to, but the 'smart' and 'logical' part of me didn't want to do this. I slowly removed my attire, this seemed to actually excite Mike. I'd be lying if I said part of me didn't enjoy seeing him light up a bit.

I stood there, naked, except for my socks which managed to make me feel even more exposed, and waited for him to give me another order. He propped himself up on his elbows and just stared, not that cold stare he had before and I think that's what unnerved me even more. A few moments passed and he made that 'come hither' motion with one finger.

Later I would find out that the reason he lingered on making me do anything was because he was memorizing me in a way an artist memorizes their subject. He was an artist by hobby, but still quite talented. His passion is seen in his work.

I stiffly sat beside him on the bed, looking forward, way too nervous to look at him while we were both in the nude. Not like I hadn't just given him what he said was the best blow-job he'd had.

He laughed at me. Laughed at me! It was demoralizing. He wrapped an arm around me and forced me to lay down then got on top of me and with a hand caressed my cheek.

"You're pretty nervous huh?"

I didn't say anything, but hell yeah, I was nervous, I was scared, I was embarrassed, part of me wanted this, part of me wanted to scream and raise the alarm. I was a mess of mixed emotions.

He brought his face down towards my ear and then added, "You should be absolutely petrified."

That whisper was the most threatening, and seductive, thing I had ever heard in my life. I only managed a quick 'eep' before I felt his hands wrap around my throat. He straddled me as he began to squeeze, and despite the oxygen deprivation, all I thought about was how hard and hot his cock was pressing against my clit. Is it so bad that I would probably have been begging him to ravage me then had I been able to talk?

Probably, any sane woman would realize this was rape. My dumbass, still partly thinking about survival, was excited in the positive sense. Yeah, there's something wrong with me. Perhaps I am a product of a twisted society.

My vision started to blur, darkness outlining what I could see and beginning to grow in my peripheral.

"Uh-uh" He said, "You don't get to pass out yet." His grip loosened, one hand then went to hold both my wrists over my head.

I gasped for air, and my vision became clear again, I saw a wicked grin on his face as he looked down at me. He started with roughly sliding three of his meaty fingers into my pussy. Now I gasped for another reason.

"You really are a freak." He said, looking at his now wet fingers and then shoving them into my mouth.

I detest my own taste, I detest the scent of myself and women in general, I'll get that out of the way now. I didn't have time to think of how repulsive that was though, he shoved his tongue down my throat now, teeth gnashing, then he landed one hell of a gut punch right in the middle of my core. The wind was completely knocked out of me now. Now, I was really gasping.

Again he laughed, he was having fun with this. Just as my breathing was becoming less frantic, he thrust so quick, and so hard into my pussy, literally balls deep. I yelped and he covered my mouth.

"Now now, don't get too loud, we don't wanna wake John."

I began to cry, not because I was emotionally upset though, because I was at this point in physical pain, and yet with each time he thrust, in and out, I felt myself enjoying this torture. What the hell is wrong with me?! I'm being assaulted, and yet, I'm enjoying this.

"Choke me harder." I managed, I don't know where the hell it came from, but I actually said it.

Mike was not letting up, "Beg!" He said as he started going faster, and harder, bucking his hips into mine.

"Please," I managed to squeal, "Choke me harder Mike, I need it."

That wicked grin softened for just a micro-moment. He thrust three fingers into my mouth again, wiggling deep to the back of my throat and pulling down so my lower jaw would open wider.

"You like being choked huh? Well I guess that's one less option I have to kill you, can't let you enjoy dying." He sounded like he was teasing, but I totally believed him.

"Until then..." He wrapped his hand around my throat again, this time gripping even tighter. How he was able to do this with one hand astounded me at the time, but apparently I have a rather small neck.

It was incredible! The danger, the promise of death, the huge cock thrusting so forcefully into my tight pussy, the loss of oxygen, I was losing my mind.

I passed out at some point. Obviously, I woke up with Mike's arms wrapped tightly around my waist. To say I was sore was an understatement. My head was pounding, obviously because I was choked to the point of passing out.

I kept myself still, the sound of John snoring in the living room was muffled by the closed door, but I could still hear it. Okay, he was still asleep. Mike's breathing was even, slow, like a person in a deep sleep. This was my chance! I started to move a little, but damnit his grip tightened!

'SHIT!' I was desperate now, I only had this one chance, this was it. I needed to do something or I really would die! I frantically looked around, what could I do? I spied his pants, Mike's pants, the back pocket bulged slightly, not like a wallet bulge, a phone bulge!

As carefully as I could I pulled the pants towards me and managed to get the phone. Thank god that even a locked phone could still be used to contact 9-1-1.

I sent a text and prayed to God that it was received. Now was the waiting game. I repeated the text a couple times, 'Help, [address] two male intruders. Both asleep for now. I female trapped in bedroom with one intruder.' I couldn't think of anything else that sounded important, like you know, the obvious 'weapons?' no I totally forgot that important piece of information.

It felt like forever waiting, but it really wasn't all that long. They sent a couple cruisers, lights but no sirens in order to not spook the intruders.

I heard the distinctive squeal of my front door open, and then it was like all hell broke loose. They tackled John, who had woken up from the door. He let out a shout which woke up Mike, who in the chaos threw me to the ground.

The police had me and Derek, who as I mentioned earlier was still alive, wrapped in blankets.

As Mike was being put in a cruiser he looked right at me and declared, "As soon as I'm out I'm eating a raw steak off your naked ass!"