Violet hung naked on the cold kill-floor. Her arms and legs twisted like a pretzel around the vertical metal gutting rack that imprisoned her body. Her daughters Eleanor and Harper were in similar metal bondage just off to her sides. The steely gaze of the attending butcher made her feel small and vulnerable. Her girls whimpered in fear. They’d all just had the displeasurable experience of being forced to watch the trio of schoolgirls ahead of them get gutted, dismembered, raped, filled, and sent to cook in the nearby industrial oven. It was all too clear to them that they were about to share the same horrible fate.

Her morning hadn’t started out this way. Just hours earlier she’d been leaving the bank, on the way to do some grocery shopping when she’d received the phone call. The voice on the other end had said there’d been an emergency requisition to fill a shortfall, and that Eleanor’s lottery code had been selected. It was a family order though, so Violet and Mugga’s lottery numbers had been added to the manifest as well. At first Violet thought it was one of those automated scam calls, but as the call went on, and they detailed the procedures and address of the facility she was to report to, it dawned on her that it was a legitimate government call up. They apologized for the short notice, but her butchery date was set for that very day. She’d have to be there with her daughters in tow, within two hours or be considered runaways by law.

She’d driven to her daughters' school to pull them out of class early. Her nerves gnawed at her stomach the entire way over. The principal had called her daughters out over the loudspeaker.
“Would Eleanor and Harper Morris come to the office immediately, your lottery numbers have been pulled, and your mother is here to take you to be butchered like piglets.” The PA blared. It had taken a few minutes, but eventually her kids had arrived, complaining about how humiliating it had been. All their friends had heard that they were going to be processed.

Violet thanked the principal and then bundled her daughters into the car and drove straight to the address provided. She had pulled up at the meatgirls parking lot at Ririaito’s fine meats, and handed off her keys to the valet. He didn’t even give her a ticket to reclaim it… she wouldn’t be needing her car anymore, after all

Their intake had been relatively uneventful. Violet signed them all in at the front desk, and they obediently undressed when it was requested of them. Violet felt resentful that her cute top was bound for the incinerator. Eleanor didn’t seem to mind being naked at all, but Mugga was a bit shy, and had tried to hide her little budding breasts with her hands. Violet let her larger breasts flop out uncovered. She was proud of her ample knockers, and didn’t mind them being stared at by the other girls in the line.
The floor manager walked over with a hose and sprayed them down with freezing water. Violet’s nipples hardened, and she suddenly felt a little bit more self conscious.

The butchers ushered them through onto the kill-floor so quickly that they were still dripping when they arrived. Everywhere Violet looked, there were meatgirls being processed into meat at an industrial scale. It was a very sobering reveal for the woman who had never really dared to find out more about how her girlmeat got to the supermarket.


“Where’s the meatgrades on these sows, Ryan?” One of the employees asked, irritated by the lack of professionality of his compatriot.
“Didn’t have time for a final grade. These pigs are a rush order. They got called in at the last minute, after the Kowalski family was a no show. Law enforcement will catch the kowalski’s by tomorrow, but there’s a special order at Mcleod’s gynophage bbq house at noon sharp, and they need a Sow and two Piglet premium roast. These girls were the best we had on file when the supplementary lottery was drawn”

“Tell me that you’ve had the time to clean them out properly?” He asked sullenly.
“Sorry Ken, just a quick spray with the hose. There won’t be enough time for any laxatives to kick in. You’ll just have to make do.”
“I’m gonna have to talk to Riraito about this when my shift is over. I really hate it when we don’t make properly padded i take estimates to account for runaways. It always ends up with me getting some slut’s piss and shit on my shoes. It’s disgusting” Ken complained as he’d lifted Eleanor up onto the metal frame that would make gutting her easier for him.

Violet remembered the touch of his hands on her when it was her turn to enter bondage to the device herself. They were warm in stark contrast to the cold metal of the frame. When all three of them were fastened securely, he had returned to the schoolgirls he’d been working on previously, digging into their squirming bellies to pull out handfuls of pink wormy intestines.

Violet’s mind snapped back to the present. Now that they’d sent those three girls to the ovens, it was Violet, Eleanor, and Harper’s turn to get processed. Violet felt nervous. She’d never felt entirely at ease with a society that treated her entire sex as disposable meat products. She knew her role, and what was expected of her, but the idea of one day being snuffed had always made her feel a little upset inside, so she’d always shoved that thought aside, and buried it deep.

Today, she’d get to experience that dread firsthand. Her butcher approached from a nearby stainless steel desk bearing a small scalpel expertly clutched between his fingers.
“Ok slut, just lean your head back a bit, and I’ll extract your larynx.” He commanded.
He didn’t even acknowledge that she had a name… was she just another animal to him?
“My larynx?” Violet responded dumbly, still tilting her head back as ordered. She’d never read anything about that when she got her mandatory yearly meatgirl obedience pamphlets in the mail.
“Yeah, some guys get off to the screams of meatgirls, but I’m a little tired of it personally, I think a Meatgirl should be eaten, and not heard, you know what I mean.” He quipped as he raised her chin into a better position with his fingers and drew a thin line down over her feminine adam’s apple with his scalpel. A red hot splash of pain squeezed her throat tight.

Fingers probed inside her neck, pushing aside the cartilage that protected Violet’s voice box. A few professional incisions later, and he pulled out a thin strip of muscle.
Violet tried to scream in pain, but all that came out was a hoarse, choked wheeze, and a few flecks of blood.
“Mommy, are you alright?” Harper asked innocently.
Violet tried to reassure her youngest daughter by lying to her… but no sound came out. She just gasped breathlessly, her voice stolen from her.

Ken, the butcher, moved his attention over to Eleanor, who had preemptively offered her own neck to him.
“I’m ready sir,” she timidly prostrated before him.
“I used to be like most of the other butchers, getting my rocks off to those desperate shrieks… but I’ve been doing this job for years now, and I’ve had my share of meatgirls with a great pair of lungs. There was this fat cow a few years back….” He began, as he slit Eleanor's throat open.
“…Opera singer, she was… damn near burst my eardrums when I was flaying her alive…. Ever since then I’ve started to remove the voice boxes from meatgirls before I prep them. Also means I don’t need to hear any of that whining and begging.. that gets repetitive after a while. Like there was ever an argument that would spare any of them?” He stated as he pulled out a red strip of flesh from Eleanor.

The 10 year old girl wheezed in some kind of barely audible affirmation, her eyes practically bugging out of her head.
“No no no no no no!” Harper squealed as she began to understand what was going to happen to her. Her little 8 year old body squirmed, bound in place, unable to stop her fate.
“Little bitches like you should be made to be silent” he smiled, enjoying his work. Instead of meekly leaning her head back to accept his tiny blade, Harper thrashed and bucked, but the restraints wouldn’t budge an inch. He grabbed a handful of her short blonde hair and yanked hard on it, firmly sinking the scalpel into her exposed throat and plucking her voice from her. Ken placed the three bloody larynxes into the medical tray, along with his surgical equipment, to be sterilized when he had his next break.

Violet watched as Ken admired his handiwork. The three female pigs groaned breathlessly as they struggled, their complaints otherwise inaudible to him. That sound of their near silence seemed to bring him great joy. Then, to Violet’s horror, he reached over and brought out his heavy cleaver. There was more work to be done. He started with Violet in the middle. She felt her left hand removed from the clamp that bound it uncomfortably behind her back. Desperately, she tried to reach out and do something to free herself, but he was too experienced for her. He deftly redirected her flailing, stretching her arm outwards for a clean strike on her shoulder. Metal cleaved through flesh and bone cleanly. In a split second, he had amputated the limb, and was working on removing the other. Violet tried to scream, but could only make harried, snuffling, wheezes. Fat tears flowed like twin rivers down the contours of her cheeks as she lost her other arm.

He carved into the spot where her leg joined her hips, pushing it upwards and finding the path of least resistance to the other side. When it passed through her, her thigh fell to the floor with a meaty thump. He was treating her like a side of beef, parting her out into choice cuts, even though she was still alive. She’d thought that they snuffed girls painlessly… that was what all the Meatboard PSA’s had advertised on the TV. It wasn’t anything like that. It was painful, and degrading, and she wanted it all to end already. She tried to beg him to just cut her head off, or hang her… but it was too late for any last words. She just had to sit there unhappily and be carved up like a christmas roast.

When he was done making her into a fuckpillow, he shoved two sharp metal hooks attached to metal armatures under her collarbones, to continue to suspend her body in the air. Violet was feeling completely traumatized. Fear paralyzed her responses. Her brain was running through all the options she had available to avoid the pain, and came back empty. It was going to happen no matter what she did. She shivered, petrified into indecision and inaction. Squirts of warm blood sprayed from her severed stumps. She could hear a second splashing noise separate from the first, as she began to pee herself in terror. Her asshole clenched and a small crap peeked out from between her round buttcheeks.

“Man, you are a filthy pig aren’t you?” He jeered at Violet, as he began work on brutally converting Eleanor into a quad amputee just like her mother. Violet’s daughter squirmed enthusiastically, huffing hoarsely as he hacked off her limbs. If it weren’t for the terrified look on her face, and the way she pissed and shit herself, Violet would have sworn the perverted sounds she heard sounded more like her slut daughter was a cumming masochist.

With Eleanor's delimbing finished, Ken turned his attention to Harper. The poor girl was pissing herself just looking at the blade. Violet could hear her frightened hiccups come out as staccato wheezes. The butcher took one of her little alabaster hands and lined up the cleaver. He just pushed the cleaver through her like a hot knife through butter. Her little heart must’ve been beating a million miles an hour, because there was a long spray of claret that quickly tapered off as soon as the shock set in. Her head rolled around, and her face was set in a scream, but all that emerged from her mouth was a quiet shrill wheeze that went on and didn’t stop. Ken continued to amputate her remaining limbs, till her plump child body and round face was all that remained. Harper bucked as sharp hooks were driven up under her collar bones.there was a splatter of urine and she squeezed out a short fat tube of feces.

Ken returned to his scalpel and washed it in a small plastic thimble of alcohol, already stained with blood. He wiped it down, and returned to stand in front of Violet. She cried and tried to mouth words to him… she wanted him to make the pain end. He smiled as if he understood what she wanted to say. He’d heard it all before, so many times women had begged him exactly the same way, with exactly the same words. She realized that he had no intention of doing anything of the sort, after all, he was clearly enjoying her suffering. He placed the knife carefully against the bone of her sternum, directly between her slightly saggy, motherly breasts. She froze in place, still holding onto hope. He slid the blade down to her crotch in a single swift slice. Violet felt ill, as the thick layer of skin and fatty tissue peeled apart to reveal her wet pink innards wrapped in a broken tissue sack. Ken peeled it away to the sides so Violet had a good view of her own sloppy pink guts. She stared at them, unbelieving. It was a true nightmare for her.