Cloudsdale Oven Adventure

by T Evelyn Jane

Rating: mature
Tags: Sad, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Romance, Original Character
Length: 2965

T lost a bet during a race and now has ended up on the kitchen counter to pretend to roast.

T lost a race when drunk and had to do anything, the winner, her marefriend said. As such, she has ended up on the kitchen counter to pretend to roast, or so she thinks.

Published 2015-08-22 20:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-08-22 20:00:02 UTC

Roasting for real?

This is the start of many one shots with my cookable pony.

Let it be known I never welch on a bet, I thought as I lounged about on the cold Cloudsdale counter. It was more than a little silly. All of us were drinking and fooling around when Maxine Smiles came up with a little flying race. The loser would do whatever the winner wanted. Turns out, after a few drinks, I cannot fly. As such, I am pretending to roast today.
I am no fool when it comes to her. I expected she would pull a stunt like this 6 years ago. If she and I hadn’t been seriously dating, maybe marrying and I didn’t trust the other two with my life, then there would be no way I would be on the counter shaven with my mane done up. There is something exciting though about pretending that when they come in here they will roast me for real.

My stomach is in such a knot as they walk in unaware that I am here to pay up on the bet. They all stare aghast before Maxine walks over, kisses me deeply and pushes me down hard on the counter. Next thing I see is her fiddling with the oven while the other two are exploring me with hooves and tongues.

*KATHUNK* I stare for a moment eyes wide at the huge roasting pan that has been placed on the counter next to me. When I finally find my voice, it I quivering. “When did you…. I mean you have a pan that big?”

She gives me her trademark cute grin. “I’ve had it for six years or so.” She starts to wipe all of the dust out of it as I marvel at the tongues running over my body. My protests only came out as moans as my front legs were pulled in front of me. The twine felt rough as they were bound together.

I was amazed that after the two of them did some digging around in Maxine’s kitchen, that they came up with drumstick mittens. They just slipped over my hooves and made it look like the bones on your average roast.

“You aren’t going to roast me, so why the pan?” I protested a bit as I was lifted and placed in the pan. The twine binding my front legs was put through a loop that held them in place as my back legs were strapped in. I was helpless, trapped in the pan. My heart raced as my wet marehood betrayed my mind. “Don’t you think this satisfies the bet?” I said trying to hide my distress.

“But, you’re clearly enjoying this aren’t you dear,” she said with the smile that always melted my heart while tracing her hoof around my body.

“Yes, but…” My eyes saw that the oven had stopped at 100. “If you only keep it there, I guess.”

“It will be just like that vacation we took to that wonderful beach last year. You laid out all day when it was 105. Besides, in 10 minutes we will take you out for basting.

*THUNK* The door opening sounded extremely loud to me. As the pan was lowered onto the shelf. The initial blast of heat was like that day on the beach, really pleasant. I kept my mouth closed to keep myself from moaning as the door was closed. I was slid in headfirst so I could see what they were doing in the kitchen. They were giggling and doing kitchen tasks as I tried to get my breathing under control.
I will admit it; I have always had a thing for oven roasting.

When I became of age, Maxine took me to one of those carnivals with games of chance in Canterlot. Well, anyways, I got plenty of chances to learn how vulnerable we all really were when playing games like that. There were many ways I saw to die. Decapitation, drowning, electrocution, and good old fashioned oven or spit roast. Let’s just say the meat was delicious, no matter how it died or was cooked.

My thought process was broken by the loud sound of the oven door opening. I was somewhat disappointed that my time in the oven was over. Maxine reached in and pulled the shelf I was on out slightly. My body shook as the air felt icy after being in that oven. She leaned over and kissed me passionately, her tongue entering my mouth to dance with mine. I let out a gasp and kissed back.
I could feel a basting brush start to deposit some form of liquid over me. Were they really glazing me?

“Whatcha doin,” I said trying to act all cute. “Isn’t it time for me to come out?” I said failing completely to act casual like I wanted.

“I thought I would leave you in for just a bit longer. I know how much you are enjoying this. Her hoof rubbed my damp slit to prove her point. My world went blank as the brush replaced her hoof on my most sensitive parts. Maxine winked as she slid me back in. “Don’t worry dear. The temperature is just going to rise a bit and if you really want out next time, well, l we’ll stop.

The sound of the closing door sent me over the edge. My eyes pushed out as I let out a loud loan that echoed throughout the oven. My muscles tensed and my hips bucked as much as they could when I heard the heating element of the oven kick on. As my orgasm faded, I could feel the sweat that had collected on my skin. The whole oven was reddish from the heating elements above me. I could barely make out any of the activity going on outside the oven. It looked like they were making up a glaze of some sort. My somewhat heat addled mind found this to be troubling, but it did come with the realization that soon the cool liquid would be brushed on my poor hot skin.

I don’t know how long I struggled against my binds, getting as far above the warm roasting pan as I could, but after what seemed like an eternity, the oven door reopened. I blinked and stared forward, the cool air feeling good to my sweat soaked skin. Instead of being pulled out like last time, a large basting brush came in and began to distribute a glaze all over my skin. A familiar scent filled my nostrils as Maxine had used this on many things before. It was one of Spitfire’s personal recipes that Maxine had gotten as part of a meat and greet. You would think that the brush slightly abrasive as it was would have irritated my slightly burned skin, but it felt good. The coolish feeling of that thick slightly sweet glaze, brought some amount of relief to me. The care and thoroughness was something that could have only come from Maxine. It was very sensual, like when she brushed my fur. As the brush teased my inner thighs, I was moaning and whimpering in frustration. I knew I was bucking wildly against the restraints, and looing track of everything around me.

When everything was back in focus, I could hear giggling and saw Maxine licking the mixture of my juices and the glaze off the brush. The look on her face showed how much she was enjoying it. A wide smile spread across her face as she giggled. “Mmmmmmm so tasty! It seems as though you are having too much fun so I will take you out in a few,” She said as she closed the door. There was an exchange I could not hear, but I did see and feel the heating elements come on.

The glaze brought relief to me in my red prison, as I shifted this way and that to try to touch the bottom of the pan as little as possible. It felt worse than the hottest day I ever experienced. I noticed that my skin had started to feel funny. Maybe my skin was tighter than normal, or was it that my muscles were firmer. I could vaguely hear discussion going on as Maxine readied to let me out. It sounded like a food processor was going and I could see vegetables being chopped. Was that a stuffing? I could see that others were arriving and now it looked like eight. I thought I heard knives being sharpened and that did scare me quite a bit.

I mentally pictured myself on the table, steam rising from my body and out of my fillet, as I was lifeless on the serving platter. All gathered around the table discussing what parts of me each of them wanted. Maybe Maxine sinking into my Filet, marveling on how all of those years looking at it with and without a dress on made her want to eat it and pleasure her taste buds with my taste one last time.
My thoughts were interrupted as the oven door was opened. I thought I was dreaming as four hooves reached in and pulled me out of the oven. The world was spinning as I was placed upon the counter in the freezing kitchen. I could see many gazing at me as I struggled slightly. I was mortified when I realized that they weren’t looking at me with an ‘oooo look at the mare pretending to roast’, but more of a dinner is progressing nicely. Maxine stood there with a huge apple in hoof and when I opened my mouth to protest, she showed it in till I heard a scary click from my mouth being stretched obscenely wide. I noticed many were taking pictures of me including Spitfire. That freaked me out way more than the rest of the ponies.

Spitfire’s hooves began to knead my body. “Nice work cadet. When you said my glaze would work perfectly for roasting meat, I didn’t believe you, but she smells delicious. In all seriousness though, how did you get her to volunteer for this? For that matter, when will she be ready?” I wanted to tell them that this was some part of an elaborate bet and I hadn’t volunteered. I was getting goosebumps through the glaze as I shivered from the frigid kitchen air. At this point, I could barely read the oven temperature as it was upped to 140. I turned a bit redder when Maxine penetrated my swollen and very wet lips with a thermometer. “You are doing wonderfully,” Maxine said. “You will be out again in 15.” Others slid me back into my warm red home.

The oven felt warmer, but this time, somehow comfortingly so, almost as if it was right me being in there. I couldn’t read the thermometer, but with that in me, it looked like I was table bound. I tried to close my jaw and eat the fruit, when I saw Maxine holding up a computer. A picture of a delectable roast tied up in a roasting pan was on there. The roast was covered in a delicious looking glaze and slightly red. It was as if she had been in the oven for only a short while. A big apple was in her mouth and it looked as if she was happily cooking. It took me a while with my foggy brain to realize it was me.

Understanding washed over me. My friends could see my body’s reaction to all of this, but didn’t understand that some part of me just wasn’t ready. Seeing how I looked though, it did look very natural. I was looking at myself with different eyes. The sweat coming out of the skin was just liquid weight leaving the roast. The firming I was feeling under my skin was meat beginning to cook. My slowly shrinking teat mounds were due to the fat being turned into a natural baste. The desire I could feel in the deepest recesses was the acceptance of my role in this world right now. My body knew what my fate was and was ready for it, it was just taking my mind a bit to catch up and deal with the fact my life was only preparation for this. I moaned a bit as I realized I would only fill one more role, dinner.

Maxine saw my change of expression, which to her was natural. She made a few calls, inviting more ponies to make sure I didn’t go to waste. I could barely hear the discussion, but it scared me. “I think she would want to make it to the table alive. You all saw how turned on she is. She is a natural born roaster. Look, if I gut her soon, fill her with stuffing, keep her at least partially hydrated, and not turn the temperature up too high, maybe she’ll make it. I owe her at least that considering we won’t make it down the aisle together.” That was it, I was cooked. I looked up at the heating element and wondered what it would be like to be put on the table alive where knives would carve into me.

*KATHUNK* My contemplation was broken by the oven door opening. The shelf was pulled partly out and foil was affixed over my neck as some sort of heat shield. Darkness had fallen upon me as they slid me back in. I lay there for who knows how long listening to the heating element click on and off, slowly increasing the temperature. I heard sounds from the kitchen, presumably my stuffing being finished. I could hear more knives being sharpened and the familiar clink of wine glasses.

I must have really passed out; because I awoke with a real start and knew right away, I wasn’t in the oven. I knew I was out of the roasting pan, because the straps weren’t biting into me and my skin was covered in goose pimples. Maybe she had reconsidered.
I felt the oddest sensation deep inside me, followed by wet sloshy sounds. It was familiar, but hard to place. Wet and maybe a bit fleshy? Almost like…. Gutting a roast. I was hearing my own intestines going into a scraps bucket. The strange sensation caused me to struggle slightly, only to find I was held down. I could feel hooves pulling out my organs. I let out a very quiet moan and was rewarded with reassurance.

“T, you’re almost done and have been a good little roaster. You look marvelous and your filet and womb should be divine. I just need to stuff you and then it’s a short while longer in the oven till you’re done.”

Suddenly I felt the emptiness and cold, which was soon replaced by and odd sensation from the warm water being run through my cavity to wash me out. I slowly felt her stuff me, it seeming to take an eternity before I felt light pinpricks from her sewing me closed.
I could hear all of the cameras taking pictures of me. My legs felt like they were completely asleep. I couldn’t move them as hard as I tried even though I knew where they should be.

After the camera noises stopped, I felt something slide into me. It felt a lot like that giant carrot I had bought about a week ago. I realized it was to keep everything inside of me. I moaned as I very much felt the pinpricks from my filet being sewn closed. A SHARP thermometer going up my rectum followed the indignity of that.

I could barely hear Maxine talking anymore. “Let’s get her back in the pan and it’s two more hours judging by this. I couldn’t follow the motion as I was slid back in. Maxine whispered to me, “Don’t worry, T, You are almost done….” *THUNK* the oven got very hot.
When one is gutted and bound in a pan, roasting as I was, it tends to focus the mind. I knew what was next. I could smell myself cooking fully. And I had to admit one regret; I smelled way too delicious. The oven was really hot….. I felt ……a….bit….sleepy……

Consciousness came back painfully as I felt my body being moved. The foil that covered my head was making too much noise for e to hear anything, but it was clear talk was about me. As movement, ceased, tiny adjustments were made to my legs, even though it wasn’t by me. Not for lack of trying, mind you. The foil hood was lifted and my eyes had to suddenly adjust to the harsh light.

My roast was sumptuously laid out on a serving platter. My head propped up with something to allow me to see my golden, steaming flesh oozing juices onto the platter. The stitches that held my filet together had been removed along with those running up my body. The carrot was laying outside of my filet almost like a penis, and I could see the warm stuffing spilling from my abdomen Ponies were walking around me, giving my, no their meat hungry glances. I could see that my identity as a pony was gone, just another meal to be forgotten.
I saw Maxine walk over with a cleaver in her hoof. She leaned over to me and whispered. “I will miss not being able to go down the aisle with you, but I know how much you wanted this.” She kissed me on the mouth with all of the passion she could muster, and all of the passion I needed as she brought the cleaver forcefully down and through my neck.