Her pussy was wet, and wide.
She uttered a minor shriek of pain/delight and suprise as the bratwurst entered her anus. Not what she had expected..but then…what did she expect?
Something warm…and wet…ran down her thighs.
The aroma that drifted up told her…it was mustard.
While the bratwurst was being thrust repeatedly into her poor, rarely used, and thus aching, ass, a hand shoved something into her mouth.
It was relish.
Then, the bratwurst still inserted in her ass, he jumped up and pulled her down by her hair.
She was now in a kneeling position in front of him.
Thrust in her face, was the largest frankfurter bun she had ever seen.
Inside it, was the midget member.
She noted, ever so briefly, that it was highly disproportionate to the rest of him.
His cock was longer and wider than any foot long Coney she had ever seen…or tasted.
She began to choke and gag on it…but using her hair to pull her onto his cock, practically down to his amazingly pendulous balls, she was really helpless to resist- NOT that there was one shred of resistance in her, anyway.
“On Fantasy Island, the most amazing fantasies that were fulfilled were all offscreen, bitch…and in my dressing room”, he told her, in between the thrusting of his cock, and the forced and repeated meetings of the head of his cock and the back of her throat.
She barely held onto consciousness, the only thing about her that was even aware was consumed with a desire to come, and to beg to come, although that was totally out of the question…as she could barely breathe, let alone speak, with such a huge member cutting off her air supply, and threatening to rupture her epiglottis.
“Do you want fries with that, Cunt?”, he intoned, with a hint of mockery.
She noticed a bucket filled with the liquid that the hot dogs were cooked in.
She’d seen the reports on television, and knew that the vendors rarely changed it, and kept it at just the right temperature to induce the growth of extremely unhealthy microbe growth.
In fact, due to this, she’d never have ordered anything from these vendors.
What was it doing there? Was he going to make her drink it? Pour it on her? or something else?
It didn’t matter.
She knew whatever use, if any, was intended for her, she would comply…greatfully.