Story: The Slut’s Kitchen Primer – Tomato Soup

Author’s Note: I don’t often put disclaimers on my stories, but just a note that this one is a little weird and nobody particular asked for it.   Nevertheless I wrote it, and here it is.   Readers who don’t like watersports / piss drinking, or food play / food porn, should probably skip this one.  😊

Additional Note: The recipe presented in this story is adapted from a real recipe, but I don’t claim that this version is either (a) tasty or (b) fit for human consumption. Prepare at your own risk.

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Kimberly had not had much to do with her grandmother as she was growing up.  Kimberly’s mother had seemed to disapprove of Grandma Elsie, and avoided letting her son or daughter see her too often.

Then when Kimberly had become an adult, realised she was a lesbian, and moved out of home to live with her pretty, fashion-obsessed girlfriend Stacy, there had just never seemed to be time to visit Grandma Elsie.

But now she had been reliably informed that her grandmother was on her deathbed, so she did the obligatory thing, and visited her in hospital.

“Ah, Kimberly,” rasped her grandmother, when Kimberly arrived at her bedside.  “Such a pretty thing.  I bet you please all the young men.”

Kimberly coughed.  “I’m a lesbian, grandma,” she said.

“Oh?” said Elsie.  “Well, I’m sure the young ladies like licking your pussy, then.  But it’s a shame you’re denying men the pleasure of your cunt!”

Kimberly was scandalised.  “Grandma!” she exclaimed.

Elsie waved away her concerns.  “Don’t mind me,” she said.  “Only an old lady, with not long to live.  But I did want to give you something, Kimberly.  That box, by the bedside.”

There was, indeed, a box on the bedside table, about the size of a large boardgame.  Kimberly took it, and opened the lid.

Inside was a leatherbound book.  There were no images on the cover, only a title:

“THE KITCHEN PRIMER: A Good Girl’s Guide to Women’s Nutrition.”

Kimberly looked at it.  “It’s a cookbook?” she asked.

“In part,” said Elsie.  “I wanted to give it to your mother, but she would never accept it.  Very set in your ways, was your mother.  Wouldn’t let anyone tell her what to do, not even your father.  That’s why he left her, you know.”

“I’m not much of a cook…” said Kimberly, dubiously.

“The book will help you,” said Elsie.  “It will help you with many things.  There is more magic in your family than you know, Kimberly.”  She smiled – a strained, taut expression, on her tired face.  “Did you know my sister Audrey consorted with devils, Kimberly?  Summoned them, and fucked them, and they gave her things – like this book.”

Kimberly made a face.  Grandma Elsie’s mind was clearly beginning to deteriorate, in the last stages of her life.

“Devils gave my great-aunt a cookbook?” she said.  “What does it do, teach you how to cook people?”

Elsie laughed.  “Nothing like that, pet,” she said.  “Audrey wasn’t violent.  She was well-behaved.  The book will just… help you be the best woman you can be.  You’ll see.”

Kimberly wanted to ask her more – but her grandmother’s eyes were closing.  Whatever drugs Elsie had been given before Kimberly arrived were taking hold, and her grandmother was drifting off to sleep.

She put the lid back on the box, and left, taking the box with her.

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Her grandmother’s description of the book had been strange, but Kimberly was still curious.  When she got home, she took the box into the kitchen, opened it, and lifted out the contents.

There was the book itself, and underneath it there were four aprons, each meticulously cleaned and folded.  Kimberly shook them out to look at them, and was startled by how lewd they were.

The first was merely short.  Rather than covering the chest, like a traditional apron, it stopped just below the breasts.

The second was pink, and had the words “Good Girl” printed across the chest.  It had a cutout in the lower half that would expose the wearer’s groin.

The third was of normal proportions, and bore a cowprint pattern, with the words “Brainless Little Kitchen Cow” across the front.

And the fourth was white ,and had no straps at all to hold it in place.  Rather, there were two metal clips on the inside near the top, and a third in the middle two-thirds of the way to the bottom.  On the front it read “Rape Me”.

Kimberly dropped this last in disgust as soon as she saw the words.  What was Grandma Elsie doing, giving her such a disgusting item?

She turned instead to the book – and made the most fateful mistake of her life.

She shouldn’t have opened it.  Grandma Elsie had *told* her it came from a devil.  Elsie had told her that Kimberly’s mother didn’t approve of it.  

But Kimberly opened the cover – and on the first page, she saw four simple sentences, with a complex arcane symbol below them.

A WOMAN’S PLACE IS IN THE KITCHEN AND THE BEDROOM.

A WOMAN’S PURPOSE IS TO SERVE AND ENTERTAIN MEN.

A WOMAN DESERVES DEGRADATION, HUMILIATION AND ABUSE.

FOLLOW THE RECIPES AND BE A GOOD GIRL.

The symbol below the sentences seemed to flash with blinding light in Kimberly’s vision, and she felt herself flinch.  There was a burning sensation in her brain, as if the sentences were burrowing deep inside her.

And then everything was normal.  It was just Kimberly, and a strange book.  Nothing had changed.

Nothing?  Well, Kimberly did actually feel a little happier.  It felt good to be in the kitchen.  It was a cozy, reassuring place to be.

She turned the page.

There was a line drawing of a naked, buxom woman, wearing nothing but an apron that inadequately covered her nudity.

“GOOD GIRLS WEAR ONLY AN APRON WHILE COOKING,” read the text.

Kimberly blushed.  This book was so slutty, and so… misogynistic.  The things on the first page had been horrible, and this second page was positively pornographic.

But she should give the book a try, shouldn’t she?  She should at least follow one of the recipes.  She wanted to be a good girl, and a good girl would follow the recipes.

Her girlfriend Stacy was still at work.  She had the house to herself.

Blushing, she began to undress.  As she removed each item of clothing, she folded it and placed it on the dining table in the next room, until she was completely nude.  Then she looked at the aprons.

It became clear to her now that the aprons were designed to be worn by a nude woman.  The first would expose her tits.  The second would expose her pussy.  The last, she realised now, was designed to be clipped to a woman’s nipples and clitoris, so her sensitive parts would support the weight of the fabric.

The cowprint one was the most normal of all of them, so she put that on.  She didn’t like the words “Brainless Little Kitchen Cow”, but no one would see them.

As she had feared, when tied in place, her sideboob was completely visible, and it gave no coverage for her ass.  Plus, if she bent forwards, her cunt would be visible from behind.

But, again, no one would see her.  It was fine.

She turned the next page in the book.

“TOMATO SOUP,” read the heading.

That was fine.  That was a normal thing to cook.  She could make Tomato Soup for herself and her girlfriend.

In fact, that’s exactly what the book wanted her to do.

“As with all recipes in this book, this food is only suitable for the female gender,” read the first line.

Strange – but okay.

She looked at the ingredients.  First, two carrots, and two sticks of celery.  She had those in the fridge, so that was fine.

But the instructions for them were not.

“Insert each carrot and stick of celery into your cunt, and fuck yourself with them until you are on the verge of orgasm, before removing,” read the text.

She blushed.  Well, she wasn’t doing *that*.  That was lewd.  And disgusting.  No nice girl would do that.  

She went to close the book in disgust…

Only, a good girl wouldn’t close the book.  A good girl would follow the recipes.  And she wanted to be a good girl.  Besides, so what if it was a little humiliating?  Women deserved humiliation, didn’t they?

(Now, where had that thought come from?)

Embarrassed, she took a carrot, lifted her skirt, and slowly pushed it into her twat.  She was surprised to find that she was already a little wet – and even more surprised by how good it felt to fuck the thick, earthy vegetable.  She sighed with delight, and pushed it in deeper, and then began to vigorously rape herself with it.

It hardly took any time at all before she was ready to cum, and it was something of a frustration to have to remove the carrot, dripping with her fuck-honey, and place it on the chopping board.  The other carrot went in next, and then both sticks of celery, but Kimberly was already close to orgasm and none of the other pieces got more than a few seconds in her cunt before she had to pull them out again.

There – instruction followed.  What was next?

“Peel and slice the carrots, slice the celery, peel and slice the garlic. and peel and chop the onions.”

That was easy enough.  But then:

“Rub some onion into your eyes – girls look prettier when they’re crying.”

Was that for real?  How was that necessary to cook the meal?  And there wasn’t even anyone around to see her…

And yet she found herself peeling and chopping the vegetables, and when it came time to do the onions she obediently rubbed a little into her eyes.  She immediately began tearing up, as her eyes and cheeks went red.  She had to blink repeatedly to see well enough to read the next words.

“You will be using a wooden spoon to stir during certain parts of this recipe.  While not using the spoon, ensure that the handle is inserted into your asshole.  Use butter, margarine or cooking oil as lubricant.  If it escapes your ass, lick the handle and then push it back into your anus as soon as possible.  You may need to use a hand to hold it in place.”

Kimberly whimpered.  This wasn’t cooking, this was… humiliation.  Abuse,  Self-torture.  It was slutty and disgusting, and its inclusion in the recipe clearly had no purpose other than to degrade her.  No self-respecting woman would follow this recipe.

If someone saw her doing this, they’d laugh at her – and call her gross and ridiculous.  She thought of her girlfriend Stacy seeing her.  Stacy wouldn’t understand.  There might be an argument.

And then, out of nowhere, she thought of her *brother* seeing her like this.  Her brother Michael, two years older than her, still thought of her as the little brat that she’d been as a teenager.  If he saw her doing this – shoving a wooden spoon up her ass – he’d mock her outrageously.

But… he’d be entertained.  And wasn’t the purpose of woman to entertain men?

(No, it wasn’t, she knew that – and yet…)

And didn’t women deserve degradation, humiliation and abuse?

She took the wooden spoon from the kitchen drawers and looked at it.  It had a long, thin, round handle.

Then she took the margarine from the fridge.  She opened it, scooped out a small amount on her fingers, bent over, and spread the margarine between her ass cheeks, being careful to push some up into her butthole.  Kimberly had never had anal sex before, and the feeling of her fingers at her anus was weird.  The slippery feel of the margarine felt slutty and unnatural.

She began to work the handle of the spoon into her ass.  Clearly she couldn’t safely fit the entire length in there, but maybe six inches or so would be enough to hold it in place.  The handle went in surprisingly easily, lubricated by the butter, and she gasped as she felt it penetrating her in a way she had never been penetrated before.

When six inches of the handle were inside her, she let go. 

Her ass immediately squeezed the spoon back out.  It clattered to the floor.

Kimberly blushed, and picked up the spoon, and – wrinkling her nose – licked the part of the handle that had been inside her.  It tasted like margarine and shit.  She had never felt more slutty or disgusting – but she immediately began pushing the spoon back into her ass.

This time when it was in place, she held it, while she straightened up.  She found that if she stood straight, without bending, and kept her legs clamped together, she could keep the spoon trapped in her butt without squeezing it out.

Clamping her thighs together in that way made her aware again of just how wet her pussy was.  It had been dripping when she had finished fucking herself with the vegetables, and penetrating her anus seemed to have only made it more needy.  

She did her best to ignore it.  All right – what was next?

“Heat two tablespoons of oil in a large pan over a medium heat, add all the prepped ingredients, then cook with lid ajar for 10 to 15 minutes, or until softened.”

That was a normal cooking instruction, at least.  She did as she was instructed, careful to move only slowly, so as to keep the spoon trapped in her asshole.

Then:

“Set a timer to alert you each minute until it is done, and each minute when the timer goes off, push a finger into your pussy, and then withdraw it and lick your cunt juices off it.  Think about being raped by a man while waiting.”

Her phone could do a timer in that way, so she set it to counting.  When it called out the first minute, she obediently fingered her pussy – marvelling at how soaking wet it was – and then tasted her cunt juices on her finger.  They tasted good.  She gave an involuntary, slutty moan.

Kimberly didn’t want to think about being raped by a man.  She didn’t want to think about men at all – she was a lesbian.  And yet good girls followed the recipe, so she did her best.  She tried to think about what it might be like to have a man slap her, strip off her clothes, and force her down onto a bed.  She tried to picture her large breasts crushed against a man’s firm chest, his breath on her neck, his knees forcing her legs apart, his cock probing at the entrance to her fuckhole…

The timer buzzed again, and she pushed her fingers into her twat, and then pulled them out and licked them.

Kimberly had tried to picture a generic man, but in her mind the man kept turning into her brother Michael.  She had always had a strange relationship with him.  Michael had made no secret of the fact he was attracted to her body, ever since she had turned 18.  They would make bets and dares as siblings, and Michael’s demand if he won was always to see some part of Kimberly’s body naked, to grope her boobs, to touch her cunt.  

Kimberly, for her part, could have shut this down, could have told Michael to knock it off – and she thought he would have – but instead she allowed it to happen.  She would show her brother her breasts or pussy when she lost one of their sibling competitions – protesting and swearing and calling him names as she did so – and her acquiescence seemed to only make him more bold.

When she started dating Stacy, Michael had made it clear that he thought Stacy was hot.  In the week after Kimberly and Stacy had first fucked, she had spent a night at her brother’s house having a drinking competition – which she lost – and her punishment for losing was to drunkenly describe her lesbian sex in intimate detail, while her brother had pulled out his penis and begun to masturbate.  When he had neared orgasm, he had brutally enquired, “Mouth, tits, or cunt?” and Kimberly had obligingly exposed her breasts for him to ejaculate over.  Michael had fallen asleep soon after his orgasm, but Kimberly had lain awake, transferring her brother’s sperm from her breasts to her mouth, and marvelling at how unfair it was that she was a lesbian, when it turned out men’s cum tasted so delicious.

On the approach to his last birthday, Michael had told her what he wanted as a present, and suggested that if she didn’t get it for him, that she was “chicken”.  Kimberly had risen to the bait, and presented him with exactly what he had requested – a pair of Stacy’s underwear, and a candid photo of Stacy naked.  Her girlfriend, of course, had no idea that Kimberly had done this.  Kimberly had rather hoped that Michael might masturbate to the photo right there in front of her, but he had only thanked her, and kissed her on the cheek, leaving Kimberly blushing and confused.

So now, as she was forced to picture a man raping her, she realised it was her brother she was picturing, and her brother’s cock that she imagined poking at her fuckhole.

Gross.  What was wrong with her?  Why was she doing this?

And yet she couldn’t stop.  She imagined Michael’s dick sliding smoothly into her pussy.  He would surely be entertained by raping his sister, and the purpose of women was to entertain.

The buzzer went again.  She fingered her twat, and licked her fingers.

Maybe she could work on the next part of the cooking while she waited.

“Crumble the stock cubes into a jug, cover with 1.5 litres of boiling water, and stir until dissolved.”

She found the stock cubes and followed the instruction, but the next part would need to wait until the timer ran out, so she just kept picturing being raped by Michael, and pushed her fingers into her twat whenever the timer buzzed.

She wanted to keep playing with herself – to masturbate until she orgasmed to the thought of her brother’s cock violating her – but the recipe hadn’t told her to do that, so she behaved like a good girl and didn’t allow herself to orgasm.  Eventually, the required time elapsed, and she was ready to move on.

“Add the stock to the pan with tinned and fresh whole tomatoes. Give it a good stir with your wooden spoon and bring to the boil, then reduce to a simmer for 10 minutes with the lid on.”

She followed the instructions.  When she pulled the spoon out of her ass, she licked the handle again and gagged at the taste.  Her ass did *not* taste as good as her pussy.  But women deserved degradation, after all.

“Meanwhile, pick your basil leaves.  If you are using pre-prepared basil rather than picking from your garden, then run outside and masturbate for two minutes without reaching orgasm before coming back inside.”

It wanted her to go outside wearing nothing but the apron.  Kimberly was fairly sure they *did* have basil in the back garden.  It was the middle of the day, and their backyard had fences.  The chances of anyone seeing her were low.

She scampered out the back door.  Here she was, outdoors, under the sun, with her ass and sideboob on display, and a wooden spoon shoved in her ass.

Except, of course, the spoon squeezed out of her as soon as she tried to hurry, and she had to stop in the middle of the lawn to pick it up, lick the handle, and push it back into her.  After that, she moved slower, to be sure of keeping it inside her.

She had to hold the spoon in her ass when she bent over to pick the leaves, and to her embarrassment her tits fell out of the top of her apron as she did so.  With one hand on the spoon and the other full of herbs, she had no way to fix it, and so she let her boobs hang out as she hurried back inside.

She was being a slut, she knew.  But also she was being a good girl.  Good girls followed the recipe.

Inside, she waited until the simmering was done, and then:

“Remove the pan from the heat. Season to taste with sea salt and black pepper, then stir through the basil leaves.”

Simple enough.  She thought it actually tasted quite good now, as she sampled it.  Despite everything, the recipe had produced a very appealing soup.

But then:

“Move the pan from the stove to the floor, squat over it, and urinate into it.  At least half a cup of your piss should go in, to make it appropriate for women to consume.  Rub your clit while urinating.”

She looked at it in horror.  Piss in the food?  The soup that she was going to eat herself – and serve to her girlfriend?  She couldn’t!

And yet she was already moving the pan onto the floor.  She was doing it.  Good girls followed the recipe.

If she told Michael that she was feeding piss to her girlfriend, he’d think it was the funniest thing ever.  And the purpose of women was to entertain.  And both she and Stacy deserved degradation and abuse, because they were women.

She started to piss, voiding her bladder into the pan of soup.  As she did, she lightly touched her clitoris, moaning at how good it felt. And with her free hand, she gripped the spoon, to stop it sliding out – and gently began to fuck it in and out of her ass as she did so.  Why should it be so arousing to masturbate, and to fuck her ass with a kitchen implement, while pissing into soup she was going to eat? 

It felt good because she deserved it.  These were new thoughts in her mind, and yet they felt true.  This was how she should have been treated all her life – as a ridiculous disgusting slut who deserved to drink piss.  She had never felt quite right because she had always been getting away with something – but now she was cooking herself the kind of meal she deserved.

She pissed and pissed – far more than half a cup – and then suddenly she felt herself orgasming.  She orgasmed with shame and humiliation – which she knew now was the only way she had ever deserved to be allowed to cum.

She was grateful to her grandmother for giving her the book – for allowing her to finally be honest with herself – for helping her to understand that she deserved abused and humiliation and degradation, and know that her place was in the kitchen and the bedroom.

She looked at the final lines of the recipe:

“Place the pan back on the stove, and then, using a stick blender or liquidizer, pulse the soup until smooth. Taste and check the seasoning, then serve.”

She stood, shaking, and followed the instructions.  When she tasted the soup, she could definitely taste the urine – and yet, if you didn’t know it was there, you might just think the soup was a little tart and acrid.  

She thought she could get away with serving it to Stacy.  She thought about how, by the end of the night, her girlfriend would have become an unwitting piss-drinker.  That was good – it was what Stacy deserved for being a woman.  

And she hoped that Stacy enjoyed her piss-soup.  

Because there were many, many more recipes in Kimberly’s grandmother’s cookbook… and good girls followed the recipes.

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Kimberly’s Tomato Soup for Sluts

[Editorial: Recipe presented for thematic reasons.  The author does not warrant the recipe is safe to make or to eat.]

As with all recipes in this book, this food is only suitable for the female gender.  It should be prepared while naked, except for an apron.

Ingredients

2 carrots

2 sticks of celery

2 medium onions

2 cloves of garlic

olive oil

2 chicken or vegetable stock cubes

2 x 400 g tins of quality plum tomatoes

6 large ripe tomatoes

½ a bunch of fresh basil (15g)

Method

* Insert each carrot and stick of celery into your cunt, and fuck yourself with them until you are on the verge of orgasm.

* Peel and slice the carrots, slice the celery, peel and slice the garlic. and peel and chop the onions. Rub some onion into your eyes – girls look prettier when they’re crying.  

* You will be using a wooden spoon to stir during certain parts of this recipe.  While not using the spoon, ensure that the handle is inserted into your asshole.  Use butter, margarine or cooking oil as lubricant.  If it escapes your ass, lick the handle and then push it back into your anus as soon as possible.  You may need to use a hand to hold it in place.

* Heat two tablespoons of oil in a large pan over a medium heat, add all the prepped ingredients, then cook with lid ajar for 10 to 15 minutes, or until softened.  Set a timer to alert you each minute until it is done, and each minute when the timer goes off, push a finger into your pussy, and then withdraw it and lick your cunt juices off it.  Think about being raped by a man while waiting.

* Crumble the stock cubes into a jug, cover with 1.5 litres of boiling water, and stir until dissolved.  Add the stock to the pan with tinned and fresh whole tomatoes.

* Give it a good stir with your wooden spoon and bring to the boil, then reduce to a simmer for 10 minutes with the lid on. 

* Meanwhile, pick your basil leaves.  If you are using pre-prepared basil rather than picking from your garden, then run outside and masturbate for two minutes without reaching orgasm before coming back inside.

* Remove the pan from the heat. Season to taste with sea salt and black pepper, then stir through the basil leaves.

* Move the pan from the stove to the floor, squat over it, and urinate into it.  At least half a cup of your piss should go in, to make it appropriate for women to consume.  Rub your clit while urinating.

* Place the pan back on the stove, and then, using a stick blender or liquidizer, pulse the soup until smooth. 

* Taste and check the seasoning, then serve.

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