The hand of a guard came down and clamped tightly over Tricia's slender shoulders.
"That can be arranged little girl. I can introduce you to the chefs who slaved over this delightful meal you've been pilfering. Our gracious host was asking after some more dessert.
Noting that she wasn't resisting. The guard's hand reaching for her undercarriage as she blushed furiously. Yeah, wet as she'd expected. She fingered her clitoris and leaned in close, whispering in her ear as Tricia slowly began to climax over her hand.
"In fact, I insist."

The guards strapped her to a spreader bar in the main food hall, where she began to wail loudly. The head chef brought out a device that would have looked at home in a torture room. It was a zipsaw with wickedly curved blades. The guards affixed it to the squirming girl's crown and pulled the cord, spinning the blades into whirring life. They cut through flesh and bone, scalping the terrified teenager. The assembled guests clapped at the light entertainment on display. Tricia just screamed.