Put it on a wooden cutting board. Then rub on a vinegar based tenderizer. Then hit it hard with a meat tenderizing mallet (it has a bunch of mini spikes) keep smashing until the meat is limp. You may also try using a small sharp knife to cut several lines into the meat so the tenderizing juice can get in there.
Well your hand is usually the best thing to get the job done.
Call me old fashioned, but I think it's easiest to do with your hand. Hell, feel free to use both of them. Just pound away at it until you think you're done. Don't forget to wash your hands though, it can get pretty messy if you do it the old fashioned way.
2025-01-18 06:14:06
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Nailed: Men In Heat
Night Raven
10
18.4K
He doesn’t knock. He breaks the door down—and your back with it.
In Nailed: Men In Heat, the men are ruthless, brutal, and always hard.
They bend you over desks, shove you face-first into pillows, and split you open like they paid for the right.
No sweet talk. No cuddling. Just cum, bruises, and the sound of skin slapping skin.
You’ll gag. You’ll drool. You’ll beg.
And he’ll just keep going.
Spit-soaked. Ass-up. Throat-fucked.
He’ll ruin your hole, coat your insides, and leave you leaking for days.
If you’re not shaking by the end of the chapter?
You’ll be begging for the next man to finish the job.
These are raw, relentless, hole-filling fucks—and they always finish deep.
One thrust and you’re addicted.
I shivered in the darkness, the air stale, damp and cold making goosebumps appear on my bare skin.
The low rumbles and huffs which were coming from behind made me a little scared, and I knew the beast was still there, watching me with interest.
I knew screaming and calling for help was futile since my voice was already hoarse for trying to scream the past few hours, but the only thing to be heard was my echo, and the snarl that followed next.
I heard it shift and felt it's soft fur brush against my body and skin. I swallowed hard and held in my voice.
The more it leaned in, the more my heart beat wildly, and I tried to move away from it.
It's warm breath brushed against my cold skin making me shiver in response. I couldn't see but I had an idea what it wanted. I kept resisting but it was much stronger than I was, easily able to pull my thin legs apart.
It showed it's dominance as a way to make me submit. I knew I wasn't strong enough to fight or escape it, but that didn't mean I was going to willingly do what the beast said, at least at that minute.
But everything changed when I felt it's big head dip between my legs, easily parting them to the extreme, and a rough, yet soft , in my opening. I couldn't help the moan that left my lips.
The was long, rough, and filled me to the brim, and that's when I knew I was in .
The beast wanted to breed with me.
If you like your men loud, sloppy, and dripping with come… open up and take every filthy word.
Teach Me how to Burn is a BL collection curated just for you. these stories are packed with nasty, no-limits pounding, cum-soaked sheets, and moans that won’t stop.
From CEOs bending their boy toys over board tables, to Mafias breeding them into submission, you are sure to be on a sloppy wet ride to climax.
Now, say Thank you daddy.
He dipped his head back between my thighs and placed his hand under my a*s, pulling my waist towards him.
He began licking around the edges of my p**sy, closing in slowly to the center. He traced me with the very tip of his tongue until he could taste my nectar. He licked the entrance of the v*****l hole, sucking my juice like it was liquid sin, like he wanted to drown himself in it.
Then he dragged his tongue back to my c**t stroking it. I didn’t move, I kept still, as if I did he might stop and I was scared of that. My chest just heaved, letting out the faintest of breaths.
Another stroke of his tongue on my sweet spot, and a very quiet m**n bubbled out of my throat.
He moved his tongue again, flicking with more pressure and I jolted like I had been electrocuted. I pushed my hips forward and completely enveloped his head between my thighs, my knees bending until my legs were locked behind his head, burying his head deeper into my wet p***y.
My body tightened, not like I was about to c*m, but like he was easing all the pressure he had built up.
Are you looking for the best e****ca stories? The perfect e**tica content that would keep you on edge wanting more? Search no more, you’ve found the perfect one. Turn the pages and read, if you dare!
This is a compilation of extremely erotica content ranging from forbidden s*x between step family members, student and teacher, between best friends, gays and lesbians and so much more!
Note: Do not read if you’re below 18
Extremely erotica content!
Roommate Roleplay: He's the Brave Lamb, I'm the Chef
Dory
0
672
While studying abroad, I move into a shared apartment. Not a single day goes by without my housemate, Stuart Harper, calling himself some variation of a sweet, brave, and responsible guy.
On the very first day he moves in, he hires workers to take out the insulation from the walls. I confront him about it, but he simply grins at me and proudly boasts about his decision.
"That was all just some shoddy foam that the construction workers padded the walls with. Not only was it useless, but it was even taking up so much space. The fact that I forked out my own money to get rid of it proves that I'm such a sweet and responsible guy!"
With a scowl on my face, I explain to Stuart the purpose of having proper insulation. He immediately leans in close with an admiring gaze.
"I'm so sorry. I had no idea! I just wanted to do something nice for us. What should I do now? You have to help me think of something!"
I naively assume Stuart just lacks common sense and doesn't act with malice. Thus, I willingly enter into a cycle of always cleaning up after his messes.
One day, I get a fever. He ends up buying a secondhand electric slow cooker and declares he's going to take care of me by cooking me soup.
My head throbs as I quickly put a stop to his attempt to heat the electric slow cooker on the induction stove. I tell him to let me catch a nap before I teach him how to cook later.
But not long after I fall asleep, he secretly sticks the electric slow cooker into the microwave to heat it up.
The microwave explodes. As the flames start to spread, Stuart screams and dashes out of the apartment at once.
The fire alarm wakes me up. I try to evacuate the burning building, only to find that Stuart has locked the door from the outside. In the end, the fire burns me to a crisp.
After that, however, he starts twisting things around. He goes online and says with a helpless expression, "My housemate set the apartment on fire while cooking. I'm the one who had to call the fire department on his behalf, and I even had to compensate the landlord for him. I'm definitely the sweetest, bravest, and most responsible guy to ever live!"
As the online community proceeds to condemn me, Stuart uses the attention and publicity to go viral as a content creator.
Some time later, my eyes open again. This time, I'm going to roast him good.
18+
Skin. Sweat. Surrender.
No apologies.
Just the filthy, holy truth of what we do when the lights are off.
In the hush between heartbeats, desire speaks its own language. These stories peel back the skin of restraint to reveal the raw, trembling want beneath - hands that linger too long, mouths that confess what daylight forbids, bodies that remember every sin they were never supposed to commit.
From velvet-shadowed hotel rooms to rain-slicked backseats, from whispered commands to wordlessly surrender, from collars that lock with a soft click to knees that bruise beautifully on marble, from words like "please" and "good girl" to the moments we steal when no one is watching... and the ones we can't stop replaying even when they are filthy.
No slow burns. No fade to black. Just wet mouths, spreading thighs, fingers that don't ask permission, and orgasms that leaves teeth marks.
I stumbled upon 'Stop Beating Your Meat - Smoke It Instead' during a deep dive into unconventional cooking guides, and it’s surprisingly packed with wisdom. The book emphasizes low-and-slow smoking as the cornerstone technique—keeping temperatures steady around 225°F to break down connective tissues without drying out the meat. It also delves into brining and dry rubs, explaining how sugar and salt ratios affect texture and flavor penetration. One chapter even explores wood pairings; fruitwoods like apple for poultry, hickory for pork, and mesquite for bold beef flavors. The author’s playful tone makes science feel accessible, like when they compare smoke rings to 'meat’s blush.'
What stuck with me was the troubleshooting section. It covers everything from 'smoke creosote bitterness' (too much wood) to 'stall anxiety' (when meat temp plateaus). They debunk myths too—no, searing doesn’t 'lock in juices.' I tried their 3-2-1 ribs method last summer, and the fall-off-the-bone result convinced my skeptical uncle. Now my backyard smells like a Texas pitmaster’s dream every weekend.