Ora enters the front doors of the Roasted pleasure, passing by the roasted corpse of a Hellhound rotating on a spit, displayed in the front window. Beside it, treated in exactly the same manner as the animal, it the slowly turning, browning meat of a young woman, seasoned and shown to attract customers. Their combined delicious smells wafts over Ora as she walks up to the Matre D.<br/>She waits behind a small stand to greet the customers, wearing a custom made black loincloth, joined at the sides, her breasts raised and supported by a tube of black ribbon top instead of one of the fancy bras that some of the customers were sporting. It really was some kind of trendy place.<br/>"How may I help you today Ma'am" she begins and then her face falls a little as she notices the Hellhound on Ora's shoulder.<br/>"A Hunter hmm, Kitchen's around the back. Here let me show you the way Ma'am." and she leads Ora through the restaurant.<br/><br/>The place has several floors, each filled with seated diners, all laughing and joking as they consumed rich delicacies in gourmet sauces off their plates... Roasted creatures of all sorts were  being carved up on their tables.<br/><br/>As they made their way towards the kitchens, the entertainment was brought out to the stage. A screaming, sobbing, petite brunette was brought out onto the central stage. As she was strung up spreadeagled, music started up from the wings, and the audience stared enthralled. A master pole dancer spun her way behind the fresh victim, showing off her limberness, and taut body. then as the music reached the crescendo, the opened the young girl's anus and unhooked the pole she had been dancing on, and rammed it up her asshole.<br/>The short girl screamed shrilly as she danced up and down on the spit.<br/>"No. No. No... take it out.. take IT OUT OF ME!!!!"<br/>and then with a gurgling splutter the tip of the pole emerged from her mouth covered in red.<br/><br/>She slid down the length of the pole, thrashing until the chefs bound her arms and legs together, and carried her over to the hot coals in the center of the room where she was set up to start roasting. the room broke out in applause at the simple entertaining mastery of the pole, and then quietly resumed their dining.<br/><br/>"Devine yes? asks the Matre D as she guides Ora into the kitchen... we get most of them from the Orphanage.. but our Hellhound supplies are quite low.. We're quite glad you came actually."<br/>Ora looks over at the twitching, crying, girl cooking over the low fire.<br/>"Jeane is quite skilled at working with the pole, woldn't you say?"<br/><br/><br/>She then put a hand on Ora's shoulder and ushered her over to a woman busy yelling at cooks busy preparing the sauces and sides for the feasts. Pots were boiling, some were being stirred quickly, and some senior cooks were peppering spices on golden-brown meats.<br/><br/>"I'd like to introduce you to the owner of the Roasted Pleasure, and our head chef... Melanie Portuer."<br/><br/>The stern faced lady looked Ora's tan skinned complexion up and down, and then briefly over at the Hellhound..<br/>"Hmmmm." she thinks for a second appraisingly, then she quickly reaches over, and squeezes Ora by the breasts and cunt, before stepping back out of striking range..<br/>"Good... good... Nice trim, not a lot of fat on her... but we can just use a little from our grease-trap to lather her up a little for flavour...?" she thinks to herself..<br/>The Matre D looks a little perplexed for a moment.<br/>"We'll pay 300 Shells for the sow... and 100 shells for the Hellhound... Now where's the huntress who bagged these two..."<br/><br/>The Matre D quickly interjects..<br/>"Non non non... She is not for the table... she IS the huntress... I am veeeery sorrreey..."<br/>Melanie looks a little disappointed..<br/>"Such a shame, I thought she was from the recent batch of war slaves... she would have filled out Mistress Domet's reservation for tonight just nicely.<br/><br/>Ora's tummy rumbles reminding her that she very desperately needs to use the restroom, or a waterway, or somewhere private. If she doesn't find a place to go soon, then she may well end up voiding herself wherever she is when she can no longer hold it in. she crosses her legs, hopping up and down a little.<br/><br/>"Well, 100 shells for the beast seems fair then. And if you have any more, we'd be delighted to take them off your hands at a good price to. We're always looking for new and exotic tastes... What do you say dear?"