“...and this is Meredith Vierra signing off from Riraito’s fine meats.…. And that’s a wrap. Did you get all that Jimmy?” said the reporter as she finished her report.

“Sure did Meridith… it’ll make for a nice little feel good segment. Let me just grab a few pickup shots of the Meatgirl as she signs her exemption certificate. Then our final stop for this segment is Hills butchers. We’ve got an interview scheduled with Merle Hill himself.” Her cameraman got a good angle of Monica as she stood naked at the reception desk finishing off the formalities.

Monica couldn’t believe that she held in her hands a class A exemption certificate. These were the kind that only judges, movie stars, Heads of stat, and Meat factory workers got. They were usually reserved for the kinds of women that society couldn’t function without. It meant that except for the most dire of circumstances, she’d never have to fear winning the lottery ever again in her lifetime

She signed her name on the form, and handed the pen back. He handed over the certificate, and a bus token, and undid the metal ring pussy piercing that attached her cooking instruction tag.
“Here, this token will get you anywhere in the city, today only.” He explained.

“Thanks,.. um…. Do you have anything for me to wear? My clothes, I put them in the bins provided.”

“Sorry, your clothes were almost certainly incinerated, and the company has a health policy against selling or giving out second hand clothes from the bins. I’m afraid you’ll have to go home naked. The Turkey girls have had to do it that way every year since the factory’s founding. It’s a proud tradition.”

Monica blanched at the thought of riding the bus home naked. She wasn’t really much of a nudist. But she didn’t seem to have another choice. She took the grade A lifetime Meatgirl Lottery exemption in her hand, along with the bus token, snagged herself a pamphlet, thanked the man at the information desk for his help with the paperwork, and walked out the doors of the Meatworks and Butchery into the mid-afternoon sun.

It felt warm on her bare breasts and face. She basked in it. Monica had thought she would never feel anything this wonderful ever again. It was so good.

She sat down at the nearby bus station next to an older gentleman and waited for the next bus to her suburb. It was only a few minutes wait. It felt super awkward being naked in public. It wasn’t something she regularly did outside of the monthly ‘Feast Day’ picnics.

Still, she wondered why the gentleman with the umbrella was giving her side eye on the bench. It made her feel extremely awkward. Then she realised that she’d been branded with her meatgrade on her ass.

He thought she was a runaway. Monica was mortified.. runaways were scum. Those too cowardly to do their duty to society by submitting to their necessary executions.

Subconsciously she shifted the way she was sitting so that her Meatgrade brand wasn’t so visible.

“It’s not… I’m not a runaway. I got the Thanksgiving Turkey Pardon is all, I promise.” Monica almost pleaded with him to believe her. It was clear from the way he didn't answer, and avoided her gaze that he didn’t really believe her.

The bus rolled up five minutes after the time it was supposed to show up. At first the driver refused to take her on board. He only relented when she showed him her exemption paper and bus token. She sat down at the rear of the bus, hoping to avoid much attention.

It didn’t work. Every eye either stared at her naked body, or averted their gaze. Monica was clearly the subject of everyone’s attention.

There were hushed whispers, but not so quiet that Monica couldn't hear every word of what was being said about her.

“Hey, look at her.” One schoolgirl said to another.

“She’s naked, so what? It’s not a crime or nuffing? You went to the ‘Feast Day’ picnic naked last week” replied the second.

“Not that, she’s got a meatgrade brand, and she got on at the meat factory bus stop… I think she’s a runner!” Gossiped the first teenager.

“Holy crap, I think you’re right. Don’t they torture them for months, and snuff their entire families when they catch them?”

“My friend Janey got chunked into pieces with her mom, aunt, sisters and cousins when her cousin Retta smacked a worker at the meat factory.” Replied the first schoolgirl. They made us watch her snuff video in health class so we’d know what happens to runners. Poor runaway is probably still alive as a human toilet in the dark.”

“That’s nasty.. I don’t think I’d ever run away if that’s how I’d end up!” replied the second girl with a look of utter disgust on her face.


A distinguished older lady, carrying her food shopping, turned her head away from Monica, but her eyes furtively glanced down at the angry red B mark on Monica’s fat left butt cheek.

Another curious lady with a lovely ebony skin tone asked the elderly gentleman about Monica.
“Did you get on with her? What’s her deal?”

“Don’t rightly know. Definitely a meatgirl. Said she was some kind of Turkey Pardon, But I think she’s just a weasely coward who couldn’t woman up and get her head chopped like the rest of them sows.”

“Geez Mister, do you really think that fat cow is a runner? That’s just awful. I hope that the police catch her and make her suffer for a long time. When it’s my time to go, I’ll just go quietly like I’m supposed to.”

“You’d make a fine meatgirl. Tell you what, why don’t I grab your Meatgirl ID. My niece taught me to use this phone app to reserve meat in advance. That way when you finally get your lot drawn, I can have that fine black pussy for dinner.”

“Wow, really mister? Here, it’s 4658786809…. Oh that’s really great. I hope you don’t have to wait a long time to eat me. Some girls take ages for their lottery numbers to get called.”

“Oh don’t worry about that. I can pay a fee on this app to order you immediately… see , I just click here like this. And you should get a notification that your lottery number’s been called.”
Ding.
“Oh my… my lottery number really did get called for a private event tomorrow.”

Monica pitied the poor girl. She’d personally never have to worry about anything like that ever again though, unless she did something stupid like volunteer herself for slaughter.

A daughter asked her mother “Mom, why is everyone looking at that woman in the back.”

“Don’t point dear, it’s rude. She’s just a Meatgirl on her way to the butchers. One day you’ll probably be one just like her. Every girl gets their number drawn eventually. That’s just how things are.” The mother replied.

Monica pressed the bus's stop button a block out from her stop. She gave the passengers a good long look at her B grade ass as she walked down the aisle and out the middle doors of the bus.