The bowl got placed on a table adjacent to a stove that held two towering pots being heated by the blue flame of a gas-powered stovetop. The dark but blurry shapes of people in active motion milled around the room. Dan swiveled his enervated eyestalks as the icy bowl sapped the vitality right out of his shell-protected lobster body and looked at other tank-mates stranded in their own bowls of ice and chilly water. They all looked exactly the same with their gray-green shells and banded claws. Exactly! No way of telling he had ever been a 16-year old human male!
He felt an electric tension that seemed to crackle along his armor-plated carapace. "Oh god..." The tension created a disruptive mix of terror with arousal. He knew Kat was teasing and tormenting him with the gruesome prospect of meeting his demise as a gourmet culinary favorite. She would appear and rescue him any moment.
Dan watched one of his fellow lobsters get lifted from the icy bowl with a pair of tongs. The crustacean was lifted over one of the boiling pots. The tongs released, Dan heard the splash, and then a horrible scrabble as frantic claws raked against stainless steel. Dan's thoughts whited out with a rapture of fear-induced arousal. His electrified thoughts got pierced when he heard a sound like a horrible shriek.
"Oh shit!" The sound was coming from inside the nearby boiling pot.
Dan knew, in an abstract way, that lobsters have no vocal cords. It's just not possible for them to "scream" in any way that he could possibly be hearing, in any circumstances.
The ghastly sound continued. In an extremely tiny corner of his mind not clouded over with overwhelming fear and insanely horny thoughts, he realized the sound he is hearing is simply expanding air bubbles trapped in the shell of the boiling lobster. The bubbles are simply finding an avenue of escape from the lobster's body while it boils.
"While it boils!" How could he manage to continue to think of the lobster as an "it" knowing he was minutes away from suffering the same fate?
"I've got to get the hell away from here!" Dan clambered out of the icy bowl and felt his body plop with a wet splash on the stainless steel countertop. His walking legs made a rasping noise as he tried to scuttle as far from the bowl as he could.
"Come back here," the jovial cook cried out and grabbed Dan around the middle of his carapace. "Where do you think you're going?"
No! No! Oh No!
The touch of the man's hand squeezing his body sent a thrill of sensation pulsing through Dan. With his other hand, the cook lifted a lid on one of the tall kettles and saw the water inside had reached a roiling boil.
"No!" Dan tried to communicate. "Please, you can't!"
Dan heard the boiling water and saw the steam rising from the pot. The screams of the other lobster had subsided.
Oh no! No!
The cook lifted Dan over the boiling pot and positioned him for a headfirst plunge. "Kat!" Dan screamed as he flailed his bound claws. "No!"
The hand released him and Dan's lobster body plunged headfirst into the boiling water. A mental orgasm fried every synapse in his crustacean body.
He ignored the desperate groping of his claws and legs to climb out of the boiling water. The lid clanked back into place, sealing Dan in darkness in the pot of scalding water. The pigment giving his shell its usual coloration began to break down from the assault of the hot water, changing his appearance to a bright, cheery red.
Meanwhile, the cook prepared a bed of greens and a ramekin of melted butter for Dan's serving platter while loading an assortment of utensils, including a seafood fork and a pair of lobster crackers for breaking into his hard but brittle shell. For about the next twenty minutes, Dan continued to cook in the boiling water, his thoughts suspended in an agony of pleasurable sensations and indescribable torments.