The machine rose high above the nudist resort, dripping the contents of the pool like rain on the guests below. A phenomenal fwoomimg horn sounded, almost deafening Debbie and Ryleigh. From beneath its large angular head, unfurled two clawed arms on metal tentacles. A sound like some kind of electrical engine revving up roared to life.

They kind of looked like hands, or weapons of some sort. The pit of Debbieks stomach sank a little. Maybe it was a good idea to be anywhere but here?

“What do you think it is? A government experiment?” Ryleigh wondered, mostly to herself.

“I dunno… maybe the mole people made it… or its an alien vehicle? It doesn’t look like it's from around here…” Debbie replied without much thought.

“Are those cages on its back?” Ryleigh queried

“Maybe they’re aliens here to capture women for their sex harems?” Debbie postulated wildly

“It’s always sex with you isn’t it Debbie?”

Light glowed from two round holes inside the arms. Steam and heat waves rose from the outside. Water droplets flashed into vapour as they touched the gunmetal. They looked super hot to Debbie.

She had a really bad feeling about this.

“Hey Debbie, why don’t we…..” Ryleigh’ cautious warning was cut off as the shrill charging sound ended, and a beam of blue light discharged from the tentacle arms, and lanced through her belly. She screamed as it burned a hole clean through her.

In an instant, Ryleigh’s skin darkened and turned an ash grey colour. Debbie could feel the blistering heat from the martian heat ray as it had passed by her. There was a hissing and popping sound from her friend as her outline became indistinct, and bits of her body cracked and fell apart into voluminous clouds of ash. Debbie's best friend of 21 years had just been erased from the face of the earth, leaving behind only a pair of light blue panties floating through the air, held up by thermal remnants of the heatray.

Debbie just stood there dumbly, not really understanding what had just happened. She was in shock, unable to move as the war machine deleted dozens of other girls before they could even realise the danger.

The resort staff girl who had delivered Debbie and Ryleigh’s drinks screamed and tried to run, but was cut down as she turned. Her clothing free tits and pussy were de-molecuralised along with the rest of her. A skimpy french maids outfit drifted along in the air along her previous vector.

The horror of the situation finally set in. It was killing everyone! Only then did Debbie’s ‘fright or flight’ response kick in properly, and she started to leg it for the parking lot as fast as she could.

The war machine took a lumbering step forwards, as it vapourised girls in a wide arc around the poolside. Debbie ran through the clouds of ash that had been living people only moments before. The crowd surged away from the machine, but couldn’t outrun its devastating alien weaponry. Left and right, girls were getting deleted

Debbie watched in terror, as a mother and daughter pair were ashified directly in front of her. One second there ran a naked mousy haired chubby milf and her braided twintailed daughter, then the next, there was a high pitched squeal from them both, as a set of heat rays incinerated them in place where they ran. Then they were just gone. A pair of braces and hair ribbons, and a VIP lanyard and some nipple piercings were all that remained of the familial duo afterwards.

To Debbie’s left, a pregnant woman waddled as fast as she could in the direction of safety. A teenager with a blue headband darted past her to try to slide into the protected gap between hotel buildings. Neither of them made it that far.

The heatray took the ‘mother to be’ through her heavily pregnant belly. She exploded in a screaming shower of ash and dust. She’d never give birth to the baby gestating in her belly. The teen disappeared less than a second later, sizzling into ashen nothingness. Her headband and golden bangles falling to the ground where she died. Human shaped silhouettes of smoke slowly dissipated into nothing where once three human lives had existed.

There was a thudding from over a nearby hill, and two more war machines joined in the extermination from along the coastline where they had emerged earlier in the afternoon. Already finished with exterminating the population in their own areas, they combined forces to blast the naked girls without mercy. The air was filled with human ash that wafted into a hazy grey mist. There was no angle their giant blue glowing eyes couldn’t seem to see through. Girls hiding in crevices, and gaps were discorporated as easily as those on the run.

A swimmer in a full piece bathing suit, and a pigtailed glasses girl with pink dyed hair led Debbie by a half dozen meters, running towards the car park… but being faster was no salvation for them. Their exertions just meant they died tired, as the heatrays evaporated them in tandem. They cried out in unison as their flesh and bones were carbonised into dust. Bright aqua panties and a deep blue swimsuit floated off in the hot breeze, as orphaned glasses and hairpieces fell to the scorched grass below.

Debbie was panicked out of her mind. There was nowhere to run to, there was nowhere to hide either. Everyone around her was being exterminated systematically by the giant tripods. Their limber curved bodies exploded into puffs of cremated dust, leaving their clothing and inorganic materials behind.

A nearby family of girls tried to get in their car and drive out of there… but for some reason the car refused to start immediately… the engine just wouldn’t turn over. It didn’t even make the strained noise of the alternator trying to turn over. Debbie rounded the front of the car, hoping to score a ride with them out of there. But as she passed the bonnet, the driver and shotgun seat were vaporized by a single beam of hot light. They shrieked, and suddenly the car’s interior was filled with hot ash. The girl in the back, still alive for the moment, screamed bloody murder. The tripod was right on top of them.

Surprised, Debbie scrambled back onto the bonnet, desperately searching for any way out of the situation, as the head of the machine inspected her closely. A tentacle snagged a nearby girl to place in one of the underslung cages. The woman complained as she was balled up and imprisoned.

Debbie pissed herself in fear. She didn’t want to die. She’d prefer to be picked up and put in one of those cages. Maybe they’d be kind masters? She knew that sh’d make for a good alien rape toy, if they’d give her the chance.

Debbie never got that chance though.

The alien beam weapon struck the blonde slut between her ample boobs. Every nerve in her body was instantly on fire. It was pain unlike any any human had experienced before this day. She grimaced and screamed in the split second before she was completely burned alive. Then Debbie ceased to exist.


The piss squirting out her carbonised cunt evaporated into steam before it even hit the bonnet. For the briefest moment as the beam hit her, her corpse was an ash statuette, then it crumbled and collapsed in on itself.

Debbie's ashes scattered across the bonnet of the car. A glowing hole of melted glass where her heart used to be. Her ashes mixed with the puddle of her piss, turning into a disgusting yellow grey sludge. The golden framed glasses that had lined her nose when she was alive bounced as they hit the glossy red hood of the car. They were the only thing that was left behind of Debbie.

They would be her only tombstone.

The tripods continued on with their extermination of the humans in the immediate area. When they were done, everything with a heartbeat was dead or captured for future exsanguination.

Weeks later, after the invasion eventually failed, there would be nobody left to remember Debbie or Ryleigh. Everyone who had ever known them had been exterminated in the days that had followed the massacre. When the remaining human survivors finally reclaimed this area from the martians, they’d wash off her dried piss and ashes after they’d repaired and refueled the car. Debbie’s glasses would be pocketed for trade, and Ryleigh’s panties were picked up to be reused by someone still alive.

It was as if the whores known as Debbie and Ryleigh had never existed in the first place. Nothing was left of them to remember.

Amber Seorn hiked down from the canvas tents in the clearing, to wash herself in the little stream she’d found nearby. They were five days' journey out of Clairethorne village, and It had been at least that long since she had a chance to bathe properly since.

Her bright green wizard’s poncho was beginning to smell like master Kelthric’s bedroom after one of his week-long meditation sessions. She wasn’t used to that at all, and didn’t relish the coming months of their trek, where bathing would certainly become a luxury they couldn’t afford. She let her mother and the rest of their party know where she was going down to the riverbank from their camp.

It was always safer to let people know where you were going.. riverbanks attracted all kinds of animals, after all. Many of which wouldn’t think twice about munching down on a preteen morsel like Amber. She was very responsible for her age.

Of course, Amber also had her staff, and she was no slouch at magic. The wizards at the college had spent the last week before her journey cramming as much offensive magical knowledge into her head as was possible,

She wasn’t going to be winning any wizard duels with what she’d learned, but she was still capable of summoning a fireball wordlessly. She was a full battlemage in a pocket sized body. Any creature that tried to eat her was going to be in for a rude surprise when a well placed lightning bolt turned them inside out.

She could always call out to her party from here as well, so there was nothing to worry about… they'd take care of anything she couldn’t handle on her own. Well, unless it was something from one of the rare creatures books in the magic college library, like a dragon or a beholder, or a basilisk.. Amber felt funny at the thought of being petrified into stone. She knew what she’d be thinking about tonight as she secretly played with herself, when she tucked into her bedroll.

She could still hear the clatter of dishes at the main camp as they set up to cook the midday meal. They were out of sight though, so it offered her some privacy. She’d caught the team’s mercenary swordsman peaking when she’d bathed with her mother in the natural hot springs back in Clairethorne, and she wasn’t looking for a repeat of that event.

As she approached the clear blue stream down in the valley, she slipped her fully laden leather backpack to the ground, and pulled the emerald poncho over her head.
The backpack was jammed to the brim with all kinds of magical artifacts. Some she had inherited from her father, others she and her mother had found in their travels… some she had even forged herself.

Her entire world was in that bag. From it she pulled out a small sponge and spilled a thick blue potion onto it. The sponge itself wasn’t magical, merely a mundane tool… but the potion was alchemical in nature. When rubbed against her hair and body, it would lather and froth, and the resulting foam would remove all the grease and sweat from her young body.

It was one of her mother’s original creations… but Amber had brewed this one with a twist that she’d learned from master Sienna. An addition of ‘Oil of Lavender’. The resulting concoction resulted in her both being cleaner than a royal bathed in rosewater, but also more fragrant. All the boy students in her introduction to magic theory class had commented on it when she wore it for the first time.

She pulled off her plain undershirt and panties. She wore no bra, as she had no need of one, so this revealed her undeveloped tits and bald child pussy. Playfully, she skipped into the frigid shallows. They were so cold her nipples stood on end and she shivered. She wondered how, on such a warm summer’s day, the stream could still be so cool.

Her sponge hand wandered across her lithe 9 year old body, spreading foam into her firm but yielding skin, removing the grime of travel, and refreshing her. It felt good. The sponge lingered for a while, rubbing a while longer than her mother would have found appropriate had they been bathing together.

Amber focussed on her long ginger hair next., making sure to massage the soap into her scalp, and rinsed the foam off with a handful of clear stream water. She sighed contentedly, as it felt good to be clean again.

She’d been so preoccupied with her lovely hygiene regimen, she hadn’t noticed the giant frog at all, as it hopped up behind her from the riverbank. Its kind were a common pest in these parts, often responsible for missing pets, livestock, and sometimes the disappearance of small women and children.

They were a weak enemy, and the locals hunted them for sport, and food when they could. Still, no matter how many they slew, the rains would come again, and the eggs left in the ponds and rivers would hatch into tadpoles the size of fish, and soon giant frogs would be breeding all over again.

There would be muddy burrows somewhere along the riverbank filled to the brim with the bones of its unlucky victims.

This amphibian flopped wetly next to Amber’s travel bag, and rubbed its face with a padded foot, and blinked its lidded eyes as it looked at its next meal,

Amber froze at the sound in her blindspot. A shiver shot up her spine. She’d left her wand back on the shore, and whatever it was, was directly between her, and her magic staff. Without that focal artifact, she’d be unable to conjure a spark, much less a fireball,

She whirled around to see what she was up against. Maybe she could swim away from it?
Oh, it was just a giant frog? She fought those in master Kelthric’s battlemage class all the time back at the college. They were hardly a challenge for even a beginner mage.
All she needed was to dodge past it as it struck in order to recover her staff.

THWUP!

A sticky wet tongue slapped into her midriff. It stuck like glue to the poor girl’s belly.
Amber was surprised. This was entirely unlike master Kelthrick’s lessons.

“Huh” she intoned dumbly.

She didn’t even get a chance to prepare herself, as the tongue reeled her into the frog’s maw like lightning. She was lifted off her feet, and disappeared into the jaws of the creature with a perplexed look still lingering on her face.

The little redhead was pulled into the saliva dripping gullet headfirst. It ate her up like she’d inhale a bowl of wet noodles around the campfire. The frog closed its maw around her, the roof of its mouth pushing down hard against the small of her back. She was pinned in position.

The dark hole at the back of the frog’s oral cavity widened and beckoned with the foul stench of rotting meat. It was rank and nauseating, Amber felt her toes curl in disgust. She tried desperately not to think about what could cause such a smell. Thick strands of clear viscous goo covered her from head to waist, undoing all the work her soap had been doing. It was super gross, Amber tried not to puke,

She didn’t want to slide down that hole. She had a good idea of what would happen if she allowed it to happen. Amber tried to wiggle her cute little kiddie butt and kick her way free from her frog mouth prison, but her fate had been sealed when she made the childish mistake of bathing without a weapon at hand.

Her legs waved futilely in the air. As she let out what she thought to be a blood curdling scream, but was actually more of a muffled moan unable to be heard mere feet from the giant frog’s position, let alone by her party back at camp.

“Mmmmm mffffffffff!” She wailed almost silently

The frog sat in stillness with its prey firmly wedged between its lips for a long , drawn out moment. It knew it could take its time… she wasn’t getting away. It had eaten enough cute young pinkish things to know that they had no claws unless they were holding a silverish one in their long fingered paws, Then it rolled its eyes back and began to swallow her whole.

True fear washed over Amber for the first time. This wasn’t happening to her. She was pushed deeper towards the undulating pink snakelike hole that led to her doom. Her tight child ass, and tiny pink slit of a pussy vanished inside the frog, followed shortly by her walking-toned thighs, and wriggling toes.

The undulating walls of the frog’s esophagus were alive with peristalsis, which carried her to a wet looking sphincter that eagerly opened just wide enough to accommodate her tiny bulk of meat. Amber was deposited into a gooey sack of pink frog flesh. This stomach was her new, albeit temporary home.

“Let me out! I’m not frog food, you stupid beast!” The little mage cried, and whinged, and threw a little temper tantrum in the sack. She tried to claw her way back up and out of the sphincter she arrived in, but her weak little body didn’t have the strength stats to succeed. It was as if she’d rolled a one in that dice rolling game mother played in the village taverns for fun.

Amber thrashed and stretched until she exhausted herself against the unyielding stomach walls. When it became apparent that she wasn’t getting out, she slumped back against the moist cage of frog guts, and started to cry big fat tears of misery.

After a long while, she could feel the frog hopping back to its lair. The stomach walls jiggled fatly with every leap, making Amber sway and bounce horribly. This was the worst. Amber hoped she wouldn’t be stuck for long in the frog stomach before her Mother and her party rescued her. She’d be happy enough to even give that pervy swordsman a kiss for rescuing her.

However, her delusions of rescue didn’t last too long. Glands in the stomach started to secrete runny juices. They squirted all over Amber from above, steaming like hot water. They smelled like bile, and stung where they splashed on her lily white skin. She immediately came to the horrid realization: It was digesting her.

The acrid water made her skin tingle and burn, but the worst was her mucus membranes which felt like they were on fire. Her eyes, lips, mouth, nipples, anus and pussy, all swelled and reddened as the powerful acid mixed with their water content.

Having been shielded by her mother for the entirety of her short life from the suffering of the world, Amber had never experienced more pain than a stubbed toe, or foot blisters from walking the trail. So this kind of extreme pain was something she was simply and entirely unprepared for.

“Aiiiiieeeeeeeee!” She screamed until her lungs burned from inhaling the fiery air inside the stomach and she started to cough blood uncontrollably.

Her nerves sparked and twitched with messages of impending death that overwhelmed her pretentious little brain. The once sheltered child , now spasmed uncoordinatedly in a blind panic, trying anything she could to stop the lancing agony.

Her delicate virgin external sex organs melted first. Her pussy lips and nipples bled and blistered and ran down into the pooling acid rising at the bottom of the stomach. She’d never had a chance to use them to be pleasured by a boy, and now she never would.

Her heterochromic eyes sizzled as she tried to blink the acid out of them. Her vision grew blurry, then faded entirely into darkness as the stomach fluids etched her cornea to a hazy white caul.

The little girl clenched her buttocks as she fear-pissed herself. She bucked and kicked energetically, even as her skin burned off her in patches, and her silky hair dulled,frizzed, and fell out matted clumps.

The mewling bundle of spasming red meat could barely be recognised as human anymore. It had more in common with a necromancer’s reanimated dead, than a 9 year old girl,
Amber moaned mournfully, her overstressed mind unable to conjugate proper words any longer.

“Uuuuughh” she groaned pathetically, unable to muster any significant resistance to being digested alive.

Acid entered into her ass through her ruined sphincter, and melted her insides. Amber squirted out her liquefacted uterus through the hole that used to be her cunt. It was to be her first and last period.

Intestines spilled from her disintegrating belly, they plopped into the sack full of stomach acid, that went to work on breaking them down into nutrients.

The Amber thing convulsed, barely clinging to life. It retched, but nothing came up, because its stomach was dissolving inside at the bottom of the bloody pit.

Then the little girl ceased moving, as the acid that had poured through her ear canals finally disintegrated enough of her brain to render her dead, even before her heart ceased pumping.

Her meat continued to sizzle as it melted off her child sized skeleton. When enough of her was a slurry, her corpse collapsed into a gory pile of half dissolved amber goo.

By the time her party even thought to search for her by the stream, Amber was already a melted corpse in a frog stomach, digesting down to bones and feces.

They searched high and low for Amber Seorn, but to no avail. All they found was her abandoned backpack and staff, and a foamy sponge that had washed downstream. By the time they called off the search to restock supplies back at Clairethorne village, the Frog was already shitting out an icky frogshit filled with small off white bones in the back of its den.

The back of the cave was already filled with other human and animal bones, so they just blended in with the fertile mess of frogshit. Amber’s skull was indistinguishable from any other child skull that filled the dank cave. Even if her party ever found her remains, they’d never be able to identify them.

Amber’s mother set up base camp in Clairethorne to search for her missing daughter. The rogue and bard couldn’t stay, but the mercenary swordsman was happy to oblige his client for continued pay.

At first they searched for Amber every day… then after a month, it was tense weekend walks together through the grasslands to scour for her, or her remains. Eventually, though, those wilderness strolls morphed into something of a more romantic nature, as the two began to enjoy spending the time together.

She remarried eventually with the mercenary swordsman, who had stayed to help in the search, even after she ran out of money to keep paying him for his services. He stayed by her side.

The base camp was built out over time, slowly being constructed by her new husband into something of a ramshackle cottage. Villagers, learning that their new neighbour was a wizard, stayed away at first… but after the first plague came to Clairethorne, they consulted with her to save their children. Soon after she became something of a cleric to them, always advising them of alchemy, magic and the best ways to plant different crops.

As all marriages do, they had more children, a boy and a girl, who they raised with love and affection. They were an adventurous and rambunctious pair, but their parents were always careful that they didn’t stray too far from the village.

Adventures were dangerous affairs, and she knew from experience that children weren’t equipped for them. Even this close to the village, sometimes during frog spawning season, people would go missing.

Sometimes she still thought about Amber’s bright smile, but as time passed, those thoughts came less and less, until they ceased to cross her mind much at all.

I'm doing a 'Your head here' Picture... Kind of like a "Your character here" commission set, but with less body involved.

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Leila stared incredulously at her friend Suzie, as the girl posed her hands on her hips in a manner that she thought made her look sexy and seductive, but just made her look impatient to get into the club to anyone else.

“Jeez Suzie, you always overdo it…” said Harper, rolling her eyes. “this isn’t some swanky, high class soiree. The house DJ’s gonna drop some sick dance beats. Can you even walk in those heels?”

“Says the girl who’s still wearing her running sneakers to a club.” Leila sniggered childishly.

“Well, at least I’m not wearimg… whatever that’s supposed to be” Harper shot back cheekily, motioning at all of Leila, who was wearing a neon green tank top, black leather panties, and fishnet stockings.



Leila adjusted her faux-leather panties before they revealed more than she was willing to show. She didn’t usually dress like this. She was an insurance fund manager by day, and usually dressed quite conservatively, but tonight she was going to be a party animal… she hoped. The latest club on the scene, Club Mantis was supposed to pop off crazy.

It was a pop-up club. A different venue every month.
She’d heard all kinds of rumours about the place, through the grapevine at work. Hushed tales of wild dancing, mind altering drugs, orgies on the dancefloor, and trance inducing beats. Of course, she didn’t know anyone who’d actually been inside. People who’d been there were notoriously secretive about it. Which meant it had to be so good that everyone was trying to keep it a secret.

So when she got a tip off from the staff accountant, Sarah, that the Club Mantis sign had been spotted being set up at old abandoned nightclub on the corner of Olgey and Vine streets that day, she’d phoned her friends Suzie and Harper with the address, and begged them to come out for the night and make some bad life decisions with her.

They met up for some pre-game drinks at Suzie’s place. Because the prices at the club were bound to be crazy high. Suzie was a bartender , so she knew how to make some killer margaritas. After they were a bit tipsy, and in the mood to party, they’d taken a cab to the club.

Harper paid the cabbie with her card, and the trio of already drunk girls ambled over to the club. The queue already stretched out for at least a block. It looked like word had already gotten out where the venue was going to show today. Leila tapped her foot impatiently. At this rate, Club Mantis would be closed well before they got in. She could see the lights, and just make out the thump of techno rave music from the street. Thick nightclub mist rolled out the bottom of the entry door.

“Shit.. figures there’d be a queue a mile long to get in. We shouldn’t have pregamed after all.” Leila pouted with dissatisfaction.

They waited in line for at least half an hour… but even though girls kept on going in the front door, the line never seemed to move even an inch. It was unnatural how slow it was.

Harper had gotten bored too, she paced in the queue for a bit, then it looked like she’d made her mind up on something, and jumped the ropes and went straight up to the bouncer. She flirted and talked a little bit, and he seemed to ignore her advances mostly. Harper huffed a little, then dug into her purse and subtly handed him a small wad of cash.

“Come on girls… it’s time to party.” She hollered, and the door guard let them through, much to the chagrin of all the girls still waiting in line. The three of them waltzed through the clear plastic strips and into the living thrum of the dancefloor.

“Fucking A…” Harper exclaimed. Leila had to agree. It was a fairly small and spartan floorplan, the layout hadn’t changed since the joint that had been on this site went out of business 2 years ago, but where that place had always been low energy, Club Mantis was a frenzy of semi naked ravers, packed in tight against each other in a writhing mass of sweaty nubile flesh.

The music and lights were awesome. It was like a living thing. It took hold of them almost immediately, it was like a heartbeat… a kind of buzzing energy that made them want to move their bodies in perfect time to the beat.

“Wow… this feels amazing” Leila felt energised by the whole vibe of the place.

“Man, fuck getting drinks… I just wanna hit the dance floor already.” Harper urged them, taking a step towards the polished blue floor where the partiers were frenetically busting their moves.

Leila couldn’t help but to get in the rhythm, beginning to dance. She was never the most coordinated dancer, but somehow, tonight, she’d found her groove on the dancefloor.

Girls all around them were similarly focused on the enrapturing beats, gyrating and undulating in response to the music’s call. The air vibrated with every harmonic change, louder and more urgent. Leila felt compelled to wave her arms and legs around in ways that would have embarrassed her usually.

The musical vibrations were so strong, that she could feel them on her skin, and in her panties, tickling at the lips of her pussy. The music alone was making Leila wet. She looked around for a hot guy to rub up against in the thick mass of bodies… but it was mostly semi naked women around her. The air was nippy in the airconditioned hall, but Leila felt her core temperature rise. It was gettimg hot, and she had an overwhelming desire to fuck.

She looked over to find the black dress of Suzie, and the white and neon orange jogging outfit that Harper was wearing in the mass of dancers. She found them close by, grinding against each other.

They were beginning to sweat as they bounced around like horny, retarded monkeys. Leila wondered for a moment whether someone had laced the mists with LSD or an aphrodisiac of something, because they looked like they were keen to fuck too. In fact, the entire room was beginning to smell a little like pussy, as the majority of women on the dancefloor had begun to moisten their panties.

In fact, now that Leila had noticed the lack of men in the room, all she could think about was riding cock. It was a good thing there were no boys around, or else she’d probably just lie on her back, spread her legs and beg him to fuck her pregnant, right there on the dancefloor.

Until this point, she hadn’t noticed the lone man in the room. It was as if he had just appeared from the ether… but he had to have been sitting there the entire time… she couldn’t have failed to see him before. So why hadn’t Leila seen him? Her thought hung in the air, as the beat dropped.

And what a beat drop… silence hit the dance floor, echoing loudly in its emptiness, and instead, the quieter sound of heavily breathing female dancers replaced it as a sexual moan of frustration. The thump of their feet on the floor in perfect time to what the music had been rose up and took a life of its own. Then the music kicked back in, and elevated them to heaven. Faster, and harder than before.

Leila felt her eyes lock on to the man. She couldn’t see his eyes through his rose tinted glasses, but she felt he was staring right back at her, and her alone. He looked wealthy… and powerful. He was an older looking guy, with his greyed hair, but his skin was flawless, without a wrinkle on it. He was handsome… pretty even, like an elf come to life. She wanted to ride his cock so bad already.

Leila moaned aloud unintentionally. Shit, she’d just cum in her brand new leather panties. She hoped nobody else noticed.

If she had been more aware of her surroundings, Leila would probably have noticed her two friends Suzie and Harper leaning in with identical dopey fuck-desiring expressions on their faces, and similarly dripping panties. But the hypnotic music was addling her brains, and it seemed to be coming from the direction of the cute guy.

She needed him bad.

Other girls had heard the call, and were already beginning to crowd him, seeking to tempt him with their meek seductions. They were all acting like virgin schoolgirls, breathless with their need, but unable to express themselves how they’d like to.

The music drew them all in, it was like it had a hook in Leila and was winding her in to the fisherman.

Leila danced as hard as she could, to try to attract his attention, to be the one he would select as his mate. She was on the edge as he leaned forwards and reached out his hand to beckon his first conquest of the evening. There was an epic feeling to the moment, as if she were in some ancient story or song. It would be the most important event of her life if she were to be selected.

Wordlessly, he reached out and pointed to the one he wanted, then turned his hand around and wiggled his finger back towards his chest. Suzie was his prize.
Leila felt a twinge of intense jealousy towards her friend in the black dress. But the music compelled her to dance.

“Me?” Suzie whispered, as if she couldn’t believe she was the one.

She blushed as she realised she was in fact, the one he had selected to be his first of the evening. It made her so happy, she’d even let him cum inside of her. She’d never wanted kids before, but now, she'd squirt out a dozen babies if it made him happy.

She glided across the dancefloor to be beside him. He guided her in with his hand, and stripped off her dress effortlessly. The buzzing of the music waned as he tore Suzie’s black cocktail dress to ribbons, and for a moment as the hypnotic trance lulled, Leila thought he looked different… though she couldn’t lock down what it was about him that gave her a cold shiver. It was as if her mind slipped away from the thought of what she was seeing because it was too horrible to imagine…. Then the moment passed, and she felt good again. The heat rose inside her, and she decided that she should probably strip her clothes off to stay cool.

Suzie mounted his cock willingly. He was big, far too big for her, she took him in as far as she could and closed her eyes as she waited for him to begin thrusting. Instead, he engorged further, his girth increasing until the tip held her in place. It was unexpected, but nice.

Suzie wanted to start by sliding herself up and down, but her vagina couldn’t even budge, she was locked in place by his cock. He spread her legs wide, and held them so tightly she couldn’t move them either, and pressed her arms against his chest till they were similarly immobilised. She loved his embrace.

Leila pulled off her lime green top, having already dropped her panties to the floor. The music swelled, and changed. As it did, she forgot about what she was doing and why… All that mattered now was the dance. Her friend Suzie, and the man she was fucking faded from importance in her mind. It wasn’t like she couldn’t see her friend was riding a giant insect cock, she knew they were there, in the back of her mind, it just didn’t seem that important to her.

A blonde girl stripped off next to her, Leila recognised her as Sarah, the accountant from work who’d tipped her off to the location of the gig. It was a bold and chaotic move, and Leila wanted to do it too, and soon they were all naked and dancing as if they were one large organism, all forgetting the girl fuckimg at the edge of the dancefloor.

Suzie waited expectantly for the pleasure to start. She wanted to have his babies.

The demonic interdimensional insect wanted lunch.

It slithered its sucking probe down to her neck and poked a hole into her with its barb.
She gasped as the sudden piercing pain broke her out of the trance. She didn’t understand what was happening. Her brain was foggy, and her neck hurt… was she being raped… there was something bulbous wriggling in her pussy. She didn’t like any of this. Giant pincers pulled her legs open. She looked up. She was fucking a giant insect? Was this a bad trip? Had her drinks been spiked?

The insect began to suck at her neck, slurping up all of Suzie’s liquids. She squealed as the pumping started and her exsanguination began. Blood gushed up the proboscis in thick squirts.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaiiieeeee!!!” Suzie squealed.

The naked brunette slut screamed till her voice was hoarse as she was dehydrated and sucked out. Her body was being used as an organic sippy cup by the horrific hexopod.

“It’s eaaatiiing meeee!” She yelled, desperate for help… but nobody noticed, even though they were less than a meter away from her, it was as if they were deaf to everything but the music,

Suzie pissed herself on the creature's tasting probe as it began to suck her human caviar from her ovaries, savouring the taste of the 25 year old bartender. Her friends watched, but did nothing but dance. Why didn’t they help her? Suzie thought as she slumped weakly. She moaned in agony as her perky tits shrivelled and sagged as their juice was sucked out.

“Uuuuuuugghhh” she groaned pitifully, spasming uselessly.

Her sallow skin darkened as it dried and wrinkled, until she had the complexion and texture of an Egyptian mummy.

Sarah and Harper disappeared from Leila’s sight, caught in the frenzy of the crowd. The beating of the techno beat echoed in the confines of her head like tribal drums. Her bare breasts bounced to the rhythm of the hypnotic rave music.

The sea of writhing, sweaty naked bodies brushed up against her as she danced her heart out. She wondered whether the DJ sold copies of his set? It was the kind of music she’d love to play in her bedroom when she fucked.

She caught sight of Harper briefly in the throng, and waded through sweat drenched asses and tits till she was standing back beside her friend. The two of them were together again.. wasn’t there supposed to be a third girl she came with? She wondered as her brain tried to square the circle her misfiring neurons were processing.

Right then, Sarah came barging through the crowd holding a tray of neon body paints. She already had bright pink butterflies painted all over her body. Leila particularly liked the ones painted over her ariolas.
“Guess what I got girls.” She shouted happily.
Three girls.. Sarah must’ve been number three. Leila's fried brain was happy with that explanation.

Harper pointed at the tray Sarah was holding,
“C’mon Leila, let’s do it… I wanna get lightning bolts. What’re you gonna get?”

Leila paused for a bit, biting her lip.
“Um,,, I kinda want to get like a neon green fern pattern, with the roots covering my crotch.” She sheepishly admitted.

“Woah, that’s kinda out there” Sarah said, but I reckon it's easy enough that I can paint that on you. “Say, didn’t you come here with Suzie? Where did she go?”

“Huh, Suzie? I don’t remember… is she here?” Harper replied, her brain a horny mess.

Leila couldn't remember… “I don’t think that's… right? I don’t think I've had enough drinks to forget something like that.”

In the corner, still with her lower orifices restrained by impaling insectoid phalluses, Suzie wheezed a weak plea. “Heeeeeellllp….. meeeeeee” it was a hoarse whisper, and flecks of blood sprayed from her drying lips. Her internal organs were being melted and sucked out of her.

Leila, Harper, and Sarah all ignored Suzie’s suffering. They continued on with their body painting as if they’d heard nothing at all.

Leila lay back on a nearby couch, spreadeagled as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Sarah took a paintbrush from the tray, and dipped it into some radioactive green looking paint. The mixture fluoresced in the dark.

Do me. She commanded Sarah.

The young blonde accountant obliged. Leila would never have guessed that she’d have had such an artistic streak in her, but tonight was a night for breaking moulds.

She let Sarah tickle her with the brush in expert strokes down her front. It was exciting, and just the right kind of naughty for her. When the brush touched the tip of her pussy, Sarah just kept on painting, letting the bristles stimulate Leila’s clit. Leila shivered at the pleasurable sensation.

Then it was all over, and it was Harper's turn to get painted. Leila got up from the couch, and stared down longingly at Sarah painting golden glowing lightning bolts on Harper's breasts.

However far gone Leila thought she was, Harper had it worse. The girl was clearly sexually enjoying the body paint session. Her face bunched up, and her jaw slack in an impressive orgasm face. It was as if the very touch of the paintbrush were making her friend cum.

It answered a question Leila had never had of her friend; Harper was a squirter.
Leila giggled a little. Maybe they could get impregnated by boys cocks, side by side. Wouldn’t that be great?

Nearby, Suzie breathed laboured, agonal breaths. Her bones poked at her stretched leathery skin, like it was a wrinkled, oversized dress. She was exhausted. Even speaking was too much effort for her to muster now.

She tried one last time to squeeze out the cock like appendage from her asshole, but all she did was clench her anal sphincter tight around it, doing nothing at all to dislodge it. Then she gave up.

She could hear the disgusting slurping noise of her blood being drained above the lovely techno music, that still forced her to erratically buck her hips on the creature’s wriggling tasting probes.

The last dribbles of her urine ran down the engorged probe that was inside her twitching dried pussy. It pooled with the blood that was leaking from her orifices, underneath the creature’s long, fat thorax.

“Uuuuuuunnnngggg…” Suzie moaned insensibly. The disco lights hurt her dried out eyes. They stung horribly, and everything was a blurry haze.

Her entire body ached with every slight movement as her creaky ribcage expanded and contracted for her strained death rattles. Suzie’s flabby, sucked out titties flapped against her belly with every convulsive suck. Her broken mind didn’t understand what was happening, she just wanted the pain to stop forever.

Suzie shuddered violently, then fell still as she died. The insect overlord continued to siphon juices from her corpse.

Her two friends didn’t even notice as Suzie fell still. They were too busy admiring their pretty new body paint jobs to even glance in her direction. Happy with the results, they returned to the dance floor to bust out some new moves.

Sarah stared at Suzie's corpse for a little while, as if something she couldn’t quite reconcile about it. Then she joined Leila and Harper on the dancefloor.

Harper danced wildly, sweat dripping all over her body from her exertions. Sarah, the blonde girl who’d given them the body paints, wriggled happily beside her. Both were frothing at the mouth. They’d worked themselves up so much that they were having trouble keeping up with the music. It was exhausting work. Leila twerked herself into a rhythm. Left and right, girls were falling like flies from heatstroke, unable to keep up with the buzzing music’s physical demands.

The girls were literal captives to the beat. Their brains had soaked in the psychic energies of the insect’s wing flapping music for so long, that they’d never return to the way they were before.


All but Sarah. She danced… but it didn’t sit easy with her… there was something wrong about the music, this place… everything. It was as if none of it belonged here… in this place. It was like there were two realities superimposed atop each other.. it was like a splinter in her mind. She didn’t know what was wrong, but she couldn’t ignore that something was.

Why didn’t anybody notice the giant insect sucking out women at the lounge? And why didn’t it bother her? That seemed like the kind of thing that should make you afraid, or angry or something? She didn’t feel any such way, of course…. But Sarah felt like she should.

“Hey… do you notice anything…. Strange about this place?” She asked Harper.
“No.” The sporty girl replied absentmindedly, still shuffling her orange trainers to the rhythm of the insect overlord’s wings “This place is pretty great.”
“No, I mean… there’s an insect in the corner eating your friend, maybe we should go someplace else… or help her, or something? Why is it so hard to think?”Sarah rubbed her forehead blearily.
“Oh, is that where Suzie got to? I’d almost forgotten we came here together…” Harper said, almost lucidly, before immediately getting distracted by the bodily touch of a cute girl that brushed her as she fell to the floor. Then she went back to dancing as if nothing had happened,

Leila danced on, oblivious to the conversation entirely. She was too in the groove to notice anything at all. The music had consumed her entirely.

Sarah looked over at Suzie, the nude corpse spasmed involuntarily with every gross suck at her throat. She was clearly dead, but there was just a little bit more juice for the insect thing to extract from her. Each time it sucked, there was a noise like a straw at the bottom of a soft drink cup with almost no drink left. Suzie was empty,

Finished with her, the colossal bug punched its pincers through Suzie’s chest as if she were made of tissue paper. Her dry skin and bones offered no resistance. Then it lifted her off its pale member. Sarah could see the organ slurping at Suzie's pussy juices and piss like it was a mouth of some kind. It was… creepy?

Then it tore her in twain like she was a ragdoll made of fluff. Sarah was surprised to see a tiny splash of blood as the two halves of Suzie were hurled to the floor like used trash.

Sarah could vaguely put together the thought that the creature would probably now be looking for new prey to replace Suzie, and that it probably wasn’t a good idea to be anywhere close by.

She tried to move to the front door, it was still open, and girls were still flowing into the place, somehow oblivious to the fainted girls on the floor, and the giant insect dominating the room.

But Sarah found that moving her limbs was hard, like walking through mud, she’d already danced herself too hard, and was on her last legs. Her spaghetti limbs betrayed her, and she fell to her knees, unable to escape, or continue dancing.
In that instant, the power of the glamour, the insect held over her fell from her mind and she began to see the world for what it really was.

Leila and Harper were beckoned to his side next, as he mounted a girl with rainbow dyed hair onto his cock, they were fully under his glamour. All they could see was the handsome man they were about to fuck.

Sarah could see more of the illusion now. She saw beyond the glamour of the wealthy man hiding the true face of the interdimensional horror beast. She realised that the world itself wasn’t even real. There was a world beyond the world she saw with her eyes, green lightning cracked over orange skies above a barren wasteland filled with the goo cocooned bodies of hundreds of women. It occupied the same space as the dance floor. It was alien, and unlike anything she’d ever seen.

Somehow, Sarah realised that both were true… both occupied the same space, just in different realities. She was peering through some kind of dimensional rift. This was how the creature hunted. It had evolved in a universe with different physical rules, to punchholes into different planes of existence, where it could find prey to drag back to its own reality.

She looked back at the door, and realised with existential dread that even if she could still see it, she would never have been able to walk back through it. Once she’d stepped through the doors, the trap had been sprung on her, and all the other partygoers. They were dead from the moment they’d come here.

That was probably why it had been a pop-up club in the first place… it hadn’t even really been there to begin with. She had always remembered this place as an abandoned building. It probably still was…. Just the glamour had made them all think otherwise.

The music stopped entirely. The dancers who had endured swayed woozily on their feet. They were the strongest ones, Sarah realised. The insect thing wanted something from them. Something different from the ones who had collapsed. She didn’t want to think what that could be.

One by one they filed into a grid pattern like automatons, each girl had a blank, brainless expression plastered on her face. Then the insect buzzed its wings once more, and a single pure musical tone rose over them. It was a beautiful, and haunting sound: it was so perfect, it made Sarah feel physically sick to hear.

In synchronicity, all the lovecraftian monster’s new slaves obeyed its psychic will and bowed in worship. They lowered their heads in absolute obedience, as it chowed down on the rainbow haired woman, poking its straw into her like a human juice popper.

She’d never had a chance, from the moment she’d stepped foot in this realm, there had been no escape.

A feeling that had been stolen from Sara by the alien music’s glamour was finally returned to her.

Fear.

Ashleigh Williams was enjoying the lovely feast day holiday, hosting a barbeque party in her backyard. She was dressed as she usually did, in men’s casual attire, with her miniscule boobs bandaged down to prevent them from showing through the shirt. She’d been dressing this way for the last half a year, ever since she graduated high school, got a job at the nearby metalworks and moved out from under the prying eyes of her parents.

The job offered her a class C meatgirl exemption, so while she still had to attend a yearly meatgirl grading, the chances of her being selected by a lottery draw were now extremely low.

She kept her hair so short and manageable that combined with her masculine clothing choices, most of her new friends at the plant mistakenly thought she was a guy. Ashliegh chose not to dissuade them of that notion. She found it more comfortable to be thought of as ‘one of the guys’. She’d never liked being a girl in a Dolcett society, after all.

She found that she even found the increased mistaken attention of women seeking to become her future wife, or mistress to be quite pleasing. Though she had to be careful not to lead them on too much, lest questions be asked about why she never actually fucked.

She had spread some carefully crafted rumours about her poor sexual performance in her previous dalliances, through her school friend Janice, rest her soul, the poor girl had won the lottery just days after her 18th birthday. Janice had cried the entire time they were cutting off her head, snot still dribbling from her nose as they chucked her head into the bucket.

Ashleigh knew that, because her coworker, and best friend, Dan had thought Janice was one of Ash’s ex-conquests because of the very rumors she herself had started, and he shared her Janice’s snufftube video. Ashleigh had seen snuff porn before, when it was passed around on phones at the schoolground to watch in secret, but somehow it hit differently when it was someone you actually knew. It was a horrifyingly morbid experience, yet somehow kind of exciting. Sometimes late at night, Ashliegh would find herself revisiting the video, and flicking her bean to her friend’s headless corpse slumping lifelessly, after a long, cruel session of sweaty spasming.

Aslhleigh cracked open a beer and downed a swig of the icy cold alcoholic beverage. Dan was chatting to her as he took sips of his own brew. His most recent girlfriend, Fay, was busy sucking on her own choice of drink, cum straight from his erect cock.
She was enthusiastic, but Ashley knew that Dan was already getting bored of her. He’d already signed her volunteer papers, and was ready to submit them, she just didn’t know it yet.


“Nice barbeque, Ash, can’t believe you scored Jim’s secretary, Regina for live roasting, from the company raffle.” Dan complimented, nodding at the girl with purple dyed hair who was weakly convulsing on a slowly rotating spit over a bed of hot coals.
“Yeah, she was a real squealer when the pussy post slurped in.. she’s gonna make for a real tasty meal.. I’m just worried she’s not gonna be enough to feed all the guests. I invited half the company, and it looks like they all brought a few friends.” Ashleigh replied, masking the worry that this was going to turn into an impromptu orgy.

She’d have to find a way to end the party before that happened, or find a convenient reason to slip out. Fetching an extra meatgirl and needing to cook her was the perfect excuse for not needing to undress in front of her friends and reveal her feminine assets.

She looked to the side, and to the semi naked girl that had sidled up to her mid conversation. It was Tina, the office slut. Somehow, Ash’s repeated polite declining of her affections at work, had only managed to pique her barely hidden sexual attention all the more. Ashley suppressed a sigh. Dan had always said, “treat em mean, keep em keen!” It seemed he was right, as usual.

She looked fondly at her male friend’s face, as his girl teased him into another orgasm using her mouth. Poor dumb slut didn’t have a clue she was getting traded in for a new model. Ashley wondered who it was that was going to end up replacing Fay on his arm.

She found herself wondering what it’d be like to ride him, till he made that kind of face, she’d never done anything like that with a guy before. Finding sex with any gender was kind of difficult when you were a tomboy dressing as a guy in a Dolcett society. If she ever got exposed, people would treat her differently, and she didn’t want them treating her like a girl ever again. Women were meat.

Another girl, this one not even wearing any panties, waltzed up to Ashleigh with her best seductive stare, took one look at Dan’s babe making loud wet gulping sounds, and squatted down to blowjob height in front of Ashleigh it was Sally from the coffee stand outside. Ash knew that Sally was bi, and often flirted with her when she got her morning coffee.
“Hey Ashy, nice party… but it’s a bit much for me… I was wondering if there was anywhere private we could go to take a rest together.”

Briefly, she wondered whether it was worth dragging Sally back to her room, locking the door and surprising her with her naked body. Ash shook her head, nope… too risky, what if it didn’t work out the way she wanted to… she had too much to risk. It looked like the orgy might be kicking off early. She’d have to make an excuse to go fetch another precooked meatgirl from the supermarket.

From the front door came the obnoxiously loud ring of her doorbell. Perfect timing, she could use that to extricate herself from her amorous suitors, make a quick apology, then duck out before the fucking began in earnest.

She answered the door.
“Hi, can I help you?” She said in her best boyish voice.
It was a man dressed in the blue scrubs of a meat factory worker. Ash looked at him confused.
“We have a permit for the home spitroast meatgirl” she said, preempting his reply. It had to be a neighbour's complaint about the smoke coming from the backyard. Either that, or they were tracking down one of the party members for a last minute lottery call.

Usually they gave a girl notice a month or so before her snuffing date, but sometimes they had meat shortfalls, and had to make up the difference with an emergency lottery calling. The primeval part of her brain wondered if any of her friends were about to get culled. It was still too early for them to have processed Fay’s volunteer form.

“Hello sir, I’m looking for Ashleigh Williams, meatgirl ID: 507657… is she your sister, or mother, or girlfriend? Is she here today?” He proclaimed so loudly that there was no way that Tina and Sally, who had followed Ash from the backyard, like lost puppies, couldn’t not have overheard it. Asleigh blushed furiously in embarrassment. The jig was finally up. They’d all know she was a girl now… there was no hiding it anymore.

Going back to work on Monday was going to be hell. It’d be the gossip around the office all week now. Maybe there’s be somebody at the party who wanted to fuck the girl version of Ash, even if Tina and Sally no longer wanted her. Maybe she could salvage something from this disaster. She could try asking Dan if he's willing to take her virginity. He was always trying to get boy Ash hooked up, maybe he’d still be willing to be a good wingman for female Ashleigh”

The butcher waited impatiently for the frozen reply from the boy at the door in front of him.
She had to respond truthfully to the butcher at the door, it was the law after all.
“That’s me, I’m Ashliegh Williams.” She said in a voice that she forced to sound upbeat and positive, even when her stomach was sinking down through the floor. She heard an astonished gasp from that slut Tina. It was the kind of gasp that was less shock, and more the kind uttered when a girl discovers the best piece of salacious gossip.

“How can I help you?” she asked with feigned politeness, ignoring the gasps of her astonished hangers-on in the background. The butcher gave her a puzzled frown, as if he couldn’t quite understand what he was being told. He couldn’t quite tally the young man he saw in front of him, with the picture on his digital tablet from Ashleih’s last meatgrading session.

“This isn’t the time for jokes, young man, I'm here to collect the meatgirl for processing today, I’m on a tight schedule, and I don’t have any time for foolish pranks.” He reprimanded her, thinking she was pulling his leg.

“But I have a class C Lottery work exemption… I should be safe from getting my number called.” Ashliegh stuttered, surprised… they were here to collect … her? She’d never even considered that this could be a meatgirl collection call for her own body. It was like one of those ridiculous plotlines out of one of those Dolcett soap operas that Fay liked to watch.

He handed her a Lottery notice. He was right, it was her name, and her meagirl ID. There was no mistake. The paper crumpled gently in her hands, as she grasped them a little tighter than she was trying to. This was her worst erotic nightmares come true.
She remembered the light fading from Janice’s eyes, and a lump caught in Asleigh’s throat.

“It can’t be…I work at the metalworks, I started as a junior foundry engineer six months ago… check your records.” She begged the incredulous hulking figure of a collections officer in front of her.

“That role is considered non-essential, and your C class waiver doesn’t protect the girl, this is a B class emergency meat call.” He said, still eyeing her body to confirm that she wasn't female.

“Ok, sir, if you say that you’re this meatgirl, then I am compelled by law to perform a manual onsite inspection, he said, grabbing her roughly by the throat, and pushing her up against the wall. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. His iron hand was wrapped around her neck like a vice. Ash gurgled, as he tore her shirt off. Her suspenders pinged against the floor.

Underneath her men’s casual shirt was a tight winding of medical bandages that bound her chest. He undid them, and they fluttered to the ground, revealing a set of tiny, poorly shapen, but perky rosebud breasts that looked like they belonged on a child rather than a gangly adult. The butcher looked surprised to see them. His hand reached down her panties, but he couldn’t feel the bulge of a cock, only the wet lips of a girl’s pussy.

“Sorry for not believing you miss.. can’t blame me, with you looking the way that you do, though. Your annual meatgrade photo looks very different. I think you’ve been dieting a bit too much. Hell, I think you might've even lost a few cup sizes since your last meatgrading appointment.” He commented callously, paying no heed to the hushed whispers of the crowd that was beginning to assemble at the front of Ashliegh’s house. Word of the scandal was spreading fast. They all wanted to see her naked body for themselves.

The officer finished forcibly disrobing Ashleigh, and clamped a metal collar and chain around her neck. She felt so humiliated by all this. Why couldn’t they have done this any other day? Everyone she knew from work was staring at her naked, female body. She didn’t want anyone to see her this way, she was so ashamed. If it had to be this way, she’d have preferred it to have been on her own terms… not like this, paraded around as a pathetic naked meatgirl in front of everyone in her life.

Ash didn’t look back at her house as she was led away to the waiting meattruck.
Her friends were all gathering at the front fence to get a good gawk at her as she was taken away for processing. She could hear the low murmur of excited chatter from them all.

Above the din, she could make out Dan exclaiming in reply to Tina’s gossip.
“No way? Ash was a girl?… but didn’t Janice say she’d taken him for a ride?…. Well, that’s just crazy… who’d have thought?… you don’t reckon we’d stand a chance of picking her up from the supermarket later do you? We could still use an extra meatgirl for this party,”

The thought of being served at her own barbeque by her best friend, made her a little queasy. Still, the odds that she'd be delivered to a local supermarket were fairly small.. she thought. She didn’t actually know that much about how supermarket logistics worked. They were always advertising fresh meatgirl products. Maybe they sourced locally. That would be very bad. Not that she’d live to find out.

Ashleigh was still thinking about it, when the doors of the meatwagon closed on her, leaving her in darkness for the journey to the meatplant along with a half dozen other naked meatgirls, chained to the roof.

The journey was short, smooth, and only punctuated by the quiet sobbing of the young women she shared the space with.

When they arrived at the ‘Riraito’s fine meats’ plant, they were chained together and marched out into the back loading bay of the facility. She knew from her school field trips to the factory, that usually meatgirls would be intaken from the front of the facility. Lottery girls from the side entrance, and volunteers from the front entrance.

It was probably so they could disrobe themselves, and so they didn’t have to witness the horrors of the loading bay. Cooked meatgirl corpses and products were on casual display everywhere, just waiting to be sent out. Ashleigh looked at a row of crispy roasted, dismembered bodies, their trophy heads piled in a trolley below. Each one had once been a girl with lives of their own. hopes, and dreams, friends, family, and even names. Now they were just nameless hunks of meat whose lives and loves had been utterly pointless in the end.

Ashliegh had a dark hope that she’d end up anonymous like those corpses. That way her meat wouldn’t end up back at her party, like Dan had suggested. The idea of her femininity being on display, even in death, was just too embarrassing for her to cope with.

“Oh god, that’s too gruesome.” The girl in pigtails three places back panicked. She looked young, they probably had to drag her right out of her high school class to get her here.

The pregnant woman behind Ash tried to calm her down.
“Don’t get too worked up about it kid, we’re all gonna be like that soon. Just try to relax and let it happen. My name’s Kate… what’s yours girl?”

“I’m Tilly…i was just in my sports class, playing hockey, and the teachers just let them take me. Now I’m here. They’re gonna fry me like a pig aren’t they?”

“Yeah, we’re all gonna fry like pigs, Tilly.” Ash piped up, joining in on the conversation. “We’re quite literally feast day turkeys.”

Aren’t you pregnant? I thought they didn’t cook pregnant girls?” Tilly sniveled, extremely unhappy with the prospect of being converted and trying to change the subject somewhat.

“My third girl, and I didn’t have a birthing exemption. We’re naturalists, you see, up from the hinterlands commune. We all live off the land , so none of us have essential jobs. It’s an automatic trip to the slaughterhouse for me. I really wanted a boy, so Trevor and I rolled the dice again. So here I am.” Kate said, patting her swollen belly.

“I’m Ash, they picked me up from a feast day meatgirl barbeque, in front of all my guests. Now they all know that I…. Well, I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m never going to see any of them ever again, am I?” Ashliegh didn’t know why she was telling them her story.. it just seemed better than silence on her way to the chopping block.

They arrived at the meatgrading station, and were all unchained one at a time, poked and prodded by the trained professionals. Ashlieh chafed at having her boobs touched, and her pussy invaded by fingers. She hated ever having been born a girl in this sadistic society. Why couldn’t she have been born a man. They never had to be treated like meat like this.

“Please be gentle with my belly” Kate fretted, as a doctor pinched it with calipers to measure her body fat. It was as if she hadn’t quite accepted that she wouldn’t ever be delivering her baby.

Tilly let out a loud “Eek!” As her medical inspector stuck a finger up her bum to feel for irregularities. “Not up there, I’ve never done anal before.. At least use some lube!” she admitted loudly to the room packed full of meatgirls all getting the same treatment.

“Piggy, You’ve never been snuffed and roasted before, either… just relax, and let it happen.” Her examiner said in a manner that seemed designed to both placate and degrade her. Tilly shut up, gritted her teeth, and tried to widen her sphincter for the man, like a good meatgirl.

The doctors fussed over Ashleigh’s previous meatgrade results and projected them on the wall so that they could compare her old one to her current one. They seemed a bit upset at her declining boob size and quality. There was a bit of haggling, apparently they were expecting Ashleigh to have a higher quality of meat based on her previous results, and were deciding whether she still fulfilled today’s order requirements, or whether her reduced B meatgrade should render her ineligible as a supermarket whole roaster.

“Hmm, she’s definitely not up to standard, but we’re short on meat today. Should we put a call up to the boss to get another emergency lottery called?”

“Nah, you’re too young to remember the way we used to do feast day. We used to firm up girls' boobs with an injection of cooking oil. It's not standard practice anymore, because butchers were overusing it, and we were losing that natural look. But it’s also not against the rules.”

“Right, I’ll add it to this pig’s pussy tag when we print it out”.


Ashleigh grimaced as they discussed her openly without acknowledging her presence. She was used to people treating her as… well, a person. It felt degrading to be talked about this way.

“You looked prettier with long hair, sow.” One of them stated sadly as he brushed his hands through her hair to check for the presence of dandruff, or parasites.
“And I don’t know how you managed to shrink your teats in just six months. You really haven’t been eating properly. You should have taken care of your body better 507657.”

In the end they decided that they didn’t have any other options, and she’d still be assigned to the same slaughtering line, the way they treated her, made her feel like an animal for slaughter. They didn’t even address her by name, merely referring to her as sow, or by her meat ID number. To them, she was no longer ‘people’.


“Now bend over the wedge block, piggy, and we’ll get you tagged and branded.”
Ashliegh gritted her teeth furiously as she obeyed. She didn’t want to do it at all, but she knew what the consequences of resisting were, and so she blushed as she complied meekly.

They locked her in firmly to the hand and leg restraints, and then pulled out a safety razor, a piercing gun, and popped a poker into a brazier full of hot coals to heat up.

CLIP! Ashliegh felt a sharp sting as they pierced her labia with her cooking instructions tag. She felt bright indignation. Even cows only got tagged in their ears. What kind of sadist came up with the procedures for meatgrading? Another attendee gently shaved her snatch, bitching about the extra work as she did..

“I hate these last minute rush orders. You’d think it’d take less time when these pigs have already stripped before they get here… but then none of them have prepared themselves, or even shaved their pussies, or legs, and all that time gets wasted.”

“You think you have it bad?” The man shaving Kate shot back “this pregnant sow’s got a forest down here. She’s gonna set me back a good 10 minutes to get nice and smooth.” He was furiously hacking away at Kate’s womanly bush.

“Lucky me, mine’s barely got any hair at all” the one attending Tilly bagged, as he made a single swipe over her fine patch of pubic hair, disappearing the carefully curated wispy fuzz. Tilly burst out into fat tears.

The now red hot poker was lifted from the smoking brazier and pushed into the soft skin of her left buttock. Ashliegh screamed into gritted teeth. It felt like she’d sat on a thousand burning thumbtacks.

“Look at this one… her nipples got hard. I think she liked it” one of the doctors joked.
She glared at them through tear filled eyes. She didn’t like it at all.

Beside her, Tilly blubbered inconsolably as she complained about her burnt ass.
“Stahp… tr..eating… meee.. liike caattle…. (Sob) Ii.. doon’t… waaant… this!”

There was a sizzling sound to Ashleigh’s right, and she heard a groan of displeasure from the preggo Kate.
“Uuunnnnnghhh! Huuurts woorse than squirting ouut a kiid!” “Fuuck, my liife!”

A hand slapped Ashleigh hard on the rump, right on top of her brand burn. She saw stars for a second, and the resurgence of pain knocked the wind out of her.

“All done here.. get these pigs moving along… they’re ready for a shit, and a shower, and then a slaughter.” The meatgrader laughed happily as he repeated a phrase that the other workers had clearly heard so much over the years, that it had lost meaning to them.

The trio of pigs were fed their laxative drugs, and the chains went back around their necks, and they were herded to a large toilet and shower area near the killfloor.

Ashliegh could feel her guts roil. She needed to relieve herself super badly. Whatever they put in those pills had been very powerful. She crossed her legs to keep from peeing herself, as her meatworker guide led her on a leash to her personal toilet. It was the first time that they’d given her any kind of privacy since she’d arrived at the meat factory. Her asshole twitched involuntarily, needfully anticipating defecation.

It wasn’t real privacy, of course, there was no door on the stalls, and she could see the girls ahead of her showering from her place above the ceramic squat bowl. The barriers did little to dampen the sounds of Tilly and Kate farting and shitting in their own stalls. Tilly must’ve been a bit sick or something, because the instant she got in her stall, Ashliegh could hear a nonstop stream of liquid shit filling the bowl. It was complimented by the sound of straining, and the large irregular plopping of large pregnant woman’s shit from Kate’s stall opposite.

She looked down into the bowl beneath her, looking for the camera she knew was hidden inside. She couldn’t see it though. She’d seen it in Janice’s snuff video that they filmed everything and put it on the web. Somewhere out there, someone was going to be watching her crap for the last time and masturbating as they did so, just like she’d done to Janice's video.

She briefly considered trying to hold it all in to try to preserve some of her modesty, but decided better of it. The last thing she wanted to do was shit herself on the killfloor… that would be worse. The pervs out there loved that kind of stupid desperate humiliation.

“It feels odd being on this side of things.. We raise some meatgirls for meat on the farm… but it’s nothing like this. This is all so clean and sterile in comparison.” Kate mused.

Ashleigh blushed as she let a stream of pee out. Nervously, she squeezed out a long log of feces that made a shallow splash in the urine at the bottom of the bowl. The idea of people watching her in such a compromising position gnawed at her mind. She hated it… but her pussy was lubricating itself at the same thought. God, why was she getting horny right now? This was the worst time. Ashliegh had regretted never giving in to her desires, and just jumpimg Dan, and raping his brains out there and then. She was going to die a horny virgin. It wasn’t fair.. a tear welled from her eye. She wiped it away.

When she was done pooping, the toilet sprayed water up her bum, cleaning her out. It was like one of those Japanese toilets she’d seen in movies and tv shows. It was kinda nice, and warm. It felt good as it washed out her anus and pussy. If it had gone on for longer, Ash might've cum… but it automatically switched off early, leaving her annoyingly unfulfilled.

She was then led to the showers and chained by the legs to the floor. She pumped out multipurpose bodywash and shampoo and lathered it over hair and body. It felt weird rubbing it over her freshly shaven pussy mound, she’d never shaven her snatch before, and didn’t realise how sensitive it felt like this

She wanted to masturbate herself pretty badly, but it felt wrong doing it in front of all these meatgirls, and with watching cameras and guests in the overlooking VIP rooms. So she refrained from fingering herself, and concentrated on soaping herself clean.

Tilly and Kate joined her shortly afterwards, and begin the process of rubbing the cleaning liquids into their skin.

“Mmm… the soap smells nice.. I thought it was going to smell industrial… but it’s?… lavender?”
Kate sprung up the small talk, as she rubbed her pregnant belly down with hot water and soapy bubbles,

“They’re … gonna… kiil us… and eat us” Tilly sniffed upset. “And … you want t… to taalk abouut the sooap? Arenlt.. youu.. wooried aboout.. youur baaby?” She finished sadly.

“We don’t cull pregnant meatgirls on the farm, so I don’t know what they’ll do with it.. I’ve never asked. I never even named her… there didn’t seem like much point if she was going to die before she was born.” Kate replied sadly, as if she had resigned herself to this long ago.

“Your baby will get ground up with your guts, and any spare assholes and fat, and turned into sausage meat. That’s what they do with them.” Ash replied bitterly. She knew what the did with the aborted fetuses from the school visit she’s had here when she was younger..
“They don’t waste anything, she should curse being conceived as a girl in this rotten world, I know I do.”

At that, the showerheads switched off automatically, leaving them dripping dry in the humid air. Tilly was as white as a sheet, and her knees were knocking.

“Ok, Pigs, time to fry. Let’s get you all out to the killfloor and finish you off?” Came the cry of a well muscled employee, as he reattached their neck restraints. And walked off with them, all trailing in a reticent line behind him.

The doors opened out on the brutal reality of the killfloor. It was like something out of a serial killer’s wet dream. The screams, smells and sights made all the girls freeze in place, until a quick yank of their chain got them moving again,

Ashleigh had seen this place on Janice’s snuff video before, but nothing prepared her for the overwhelming realness of the actual place. It was jam packed with nude meatgirls, all waiting in line for their ends to come. Off in one corner, a girl was being loaded into a guillotine, and in another, conveyor belts were being loaded with victims who were being carried into the next room, where the sound of terrified screams blended with the buzzing of industrial saws and machinery. The entire room smelled blood and roast pork.

She felt her legs trembling with every step towards the metal preparation tables that awaited them. There was a nervous trepidation that Ashleigh felt. She knew that she was getting cooked alive, it said as much on her pussy tag… but she was unsure about the details of the process between now and then. That lack of knowing filled her with a true fear.

“Hey Sonia, you good to help pop these sows?” Their guide asked a younger worker, who was busy tying girls to a conveyor belt suspended in the air.

“Yeah.. I’m about finished prepping these sows for the dismemberment line.” She said, as she wiped sweat from her brow.

“You’re a hard worker Sonia, you’ve been pulling a lot of overtime recently.”

“Well, John finally proposed to me… so I need to make some extra money to save up for the wedding dress I want.”

“Congratulations. Sonia, that’s great news. You two make a fantastic couple. Good luck on your honeymoon, don’t let him wear you out too much, we need you working your best here at the plant when you get back.”

“Haha, Manny, I think it’s the other way around. He’s not gonna be able to walk for a week, with how hard I’m gonna ride him. I can’t wait to have his babies. “ she replied earnestly, as she took charge of the line of fresh girlmeat.

“Ok sows, please comply with all my instructions. Lie down on the metal benches, one pig per table,” Sonia instructed them all.

Ash lay down on the cold stainless steel table as she was instructed.
“Spread your legs sow,” her butcher, the young woman with blue dyed hair and square glasses, urged her patiently. It seemed a bit rich coming from another girl like her, but Ashliegh did as she was bade. The girl efficiently locked a spreader bar between Ash’s ankle manacles.

“My name is Sonia, and I’ll be your butcher today, Sow.” The girl said softly, but authoritatively. “Lean back, and it’ll all be over soon.”

Ash leaned her head back as her hands were locked together behind her buttocks, and was rewarded with a view of the guillotine snapping shut on the neck of the woman in it, her head arced into the waiting trolley, and her limp corpse was hung up nearby, then like clockwork, the next girl was instructed to lower her head into the lunette. She looked back at her butcher, as the girl chatted absentmindedly with her coworker, who was working on Kate,

Ashliegh felt a twinge of vile jealousy run through her. Here was everything she hated in the world… who was this girl?, talking about babies, and dresses, living as her true self, not even having to fear being executed for being born as a woman. Here she was, happily being part of a system that treated her entire sex as food cattle. She was the antithesis of everything Ashliegh had ever tried to be.

“Ok, now brace yourself pig,” Sonia said with a false, practiced smile, giving her no actual time to brace, “this bit hurts” she said at the same moment as she thrust the sharp blade of the anal hook into Ash’s unprepared asshole.

“Fuuuuck” Ashliegh screamed in a high pitched, but still boyish shriek. She instinctively tried to pull the hook out, but quickly realised that if she did so, she’d have to pull out her anus along with it.

“Now, you have some special instructions, you lucky girl. Seems like you’ve been naughty and let your body go a bit, since your last inspection. Thankfully, we can make your roast look a little bit prettier. Nothing we can do about that short, ratty boy hair, but we can plump up those flat titties a bit with some cooking fluid. She said as she pulled out a fat syringe that looked like it was made for a horse.

Ash couldn’t resist, and the needle plunged into her nipple and deep into her little budding breast.
“Oh god!” She exclaimed, as she felt the skin of her breasts stretch uncomfortably as they painfully filled up with cooking liquid.
“There we go, it’s not much, but we’ve got you back up at least a whole cup size.” The female employee chirped, as if it was something Ashliegh should be happy about. She was right though, her breasts were still small, but now they were perky and swollen into a lovely feminine shape. There was no way she could ever have pretended to be a boy as she had done with breasts like these. She hated them.

“Yes, you’ll make for a lovely roast. Well, time to hang and gut you. Won’t be long now.” She said, with what Ashliegh was beginning to realise, was pure honesty. The girl pressed a button on the machine, and Ashliegh’s bound body was raised to the ceiling by her spread legs.

“Gutting?” Tilly asked fearfully. “You’re going to gut us?”
The naive schoolgirl’s stupidity was finally beginning to grind on Ashleigh. How could anyone be so hopelessly clueless?

“My baby’s going to be sausage meat.” Repeated Kate under her breath, in a way that Ash couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a question, or a statement.

The blue haired girl came back to Kate with a sharp filleting knife.
“You ready, cow?”

Sonia went to work on the pregnant Kate with a professional attitude. Her hands firmly grasped where she had been trained to, and the knife was sharp and well maintained. It glided through the preggo’s belly like butter. Thick wormy intestines dribbled out through the clean line she drew down to the woman’s sternum.

Her guts just flopped out through the torn liming that was supposed to hold them in.
Ashleigh could see Kate’s baby, kicking inside her womb, as the organ fell into the bloody pile below her. There was the faint, muffled sound of a baby crying within.

Kate’s eyes went wild, and she screeched like a banshee, it didn’t look pleasant.
The butcher girl kicked the guts into a nearby floor disposal unit, the sound of a set of metal meshed blades whirred loudly, and the sound of a crying baby stopped.

Soon, the male butcher on Ash’s other side started to go to work on Tilly. The highschooler went absolutely petrified. All she could muster as she was sliced open was a pathetic mouse-like squeaking.

Finished with Kate, Sonia moved back to Ashleigh. She felt the employee’s hands warmly cup her neck, pulling gently down on her chin, to keep her in position as he blade traced a bloody line from her pubic mound to her ribcage.

Ashleigh felt a guttural scream erupt from between her lips, and a hot squirt of urine arced from her pussy, and landed on her pubis. The pain was unbearable. The tomboy behaved just like any other scared girl would, as her guts were pulled in thick handfuls from her belly. Every time that girl pulled out a wadded up mess of intestines, Ashliegh felt emptier and emptier, until all her innards were on the floor, filling up the guts grinder.

The blue haired girl smiled at a job well done, and let her foot kick the pedal that started the mincing machine that ground her guts into a thick pink meat slop that was dumped into a clear plastic container underneath mixed up with Kate’s baby, and Tilly’s guts,

Ashleigh felt tired, heavy, and hurt. She breathed labouredly. Ash couldn’t even muster a scream anymore, her throat felt hoarse from all the screaming she had already done, though.

The girl stitched up Ash’s empty belly, like she was a surgeon.
“Uuuuuuunnnggggh” she groaned as her butcher lined up a clear plastic pipe with her pussy and pushed it in until Ash’s pink lips stretched wide around the plastic as if it were a man’s dick. In piped a mess of stuffing.

The weight of it in her belly hurt, as it filled up on top of her heart and lungs, making it harder still to breathe. Her eyes struggled to look up to the piping machine above her… she was being stuffed with an Orange and Fennel breadcrumb mix. She knew the type… how odd, she always kind of liked that one.

Ash’s freshly slit and stitched belly swelled with stuffing until she felt sick and bloated.

When the machine had finished stuffing Ashleigh, the blue haired girl pulled out the pipe. It wetly popped out of her pussy. Ash was in hell, but that part had at least felt nice compared to the pain of her ruined stomach. She was disappointed that the little pleasure had ended. The girl used two fingers to peel back Ashleigh’s wet pussy to inspect the filling.
Yes, that feeling took her attention away from the piercing agony.

“Oh, you naughty little masochist. You’re positively dripping, You liked that did you?” Sonia teased . Her fingers wandered down the ruined virgin vagina to her clit and played with it a little. Ashleigh felt indignation at being toyed with, but her body betrayed her with feelings of pleasure at the gesture.
Almost there… just a little further. Ashliegh was on the cusp of an orgasm. The combination of pleasure and pain was driving her wild.

Then the girl withdrew her attention. This was a job for her, not play.
“I hope you had enough fun there piggy. It’s time for you to roast. Maybe you’ll get your O in the ovens?”

Ashliegh groaned as the conveyer pulled her, Tilly and Kate along to the waiting ovens. It was a slow machine, and it took a good ten minutes to cross the stretch of floor towards the open industrial ovens.

There was a good upside down view of the spitting area, and in the time it took them to get to the oven entrance, they watched a dozen girls get run through with metal poles, and get hauled off by the two butchers that had been working on their line,

She could feel the heat of the oven, even from a few meters away. It dried out her face, and evaporated her tears before they could drop from her face. Sweat poured from her hot body.


She watched as a dark haired girl jerked as she was impaled, and continued spasming on the spit as she was carried over to the roasting pits. She watched the girl wiggle her ass, to hump her pussy pole, and found herself wishing to trade places with her.

Kate reached the oven, and recoiled as the heat washed over her. She resumed her screeching, only this time, strained and weak. Only fear of the heat animated her out of her lethargy. Her fat titties jiggled as she began to wriggle her fat body, and she danced in the hot oven.

It was a horrific sight for Ashleigh to behold. Just ahead of her was a woman she had been speaking to just minutes earlier, cooking in an oven. Ashleigh watched in terror, as the MILF’ sweat flashed to steam. Kate’s wailing was truly awful to behold. No girl deserved to die like that.

Kate was jerking around desperately, doing anything she could to try to lessen the pain of being cooked alive. Ashleigh could feel the blistering heat dry out her own lips and eyeballs. It was too intense for her, and she wasn’t even inside the oven yet. The tomboy crossed the threshold, and discovered a whole new world of pain.

What Ashleigh had thought was hot before she entered the oven didn’t even compare to what she experienced as she passed the threshold. Her body dripped sweat from every pore, and it just disappeared into steam before it hit the ground. It was so hot, she couldn’t even really feel it as temperature, she only experienced it as mind numbing agony. Her raisin sized tits bounced around as she tried futilely to find some way back out of the oven.

“Uh”, she gasped in surprise, taking in a lungful of dry burning air that seared her mouth. Then she started screaming, and didn’t stop.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaiieeeeee!”

Tilly kicked up a real fuss as she followed them in after. The short girl had a lot of energy left. Her pigtails whipped Ashleigh in the back of the head as she flailed erratically.

Ash didn’t care, she was too busy frying like a pig. Her body spasmed to and fro, until she finally gave up, and accepted her fate, shivering as she hung limply from the spreader bar.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaannngggg!” She screeched.

Because her eyeballs were cooking she could barely see more than a fuzz of Kate’s outline in front of her, slowing to a weak spasm, then stopped as she died. Then Ashleigh went blind. Her pussy dried out and crisped. Far from experiencing a final orgasm, as the butcher had suggested she might, she felt no pleasure at all as she roasted alive.

“Uuunnngggh, groaned the brain damaged, scalded hunk of smoking meat that had once been identified as Ashleigh Williams.

Unable to continue screaming, she hissed until her mouth larynx roasted and she could make no sound at all. Her heart and lungs ceased functioning, and she suffered brain death, but still she moved in stiff convulsions, her muscles acting on their own, even as their tomboy owner died.

Tilly lasted far longer than the other two girls. Perhaps it was her athletic frame, or just her will to live, but she held out almost until she exited the oven,
The roasted bodies of the girls filed out of the oven, ready to be exported for sale at the shops.

It was still barely mid afternoon when Ashleigh’s whole corpse was stocked onto her local supermarket shelf alongside the meat of her new friends. Far from being an anonymous slab of meat that her coworkers wouldn’t be able to identify, she was trussed up as a display meat, with her name, and meat ID easily visible. The staff even went to the trouble of printing a short biography for her, lifted from her social media posts and private email correspondence, as part of the ‘know your meat campaign’

She was labelled as part of a delicatessen project, where they picked out female archetypes to highlight the varieties of girlmeat that were available. Today’s selection was eclectically labeled as Tomboy meat. The display featured different types of boys, from rebels. To jocks, and naturalists.

Unfortunately for Ash, it made finding her very easy for her coworkers, as they came in to find a second roast girl for the party.

Sally walked up ahead of Tina and Dan.
“Here’s that tomboy’s corpse. That’s her meatgirl ID from the notice form right?” She asked Tina.
“Yup, that’s Ash alright… no wonder she managed to trick us into thinking she was a boy, look at those tiny titties. I know cooking shrinks them a little, but man, they’re like the size of peaches.” She condescended meanly.

“Tina, that’s mean, he was.. I mean, she was your friend wasn’t she?l "Sally said sadly.

“Well, I just don’t like having my time wasted. I spent all my time chasing his cock, only to find he didn’t ever have one. I’m looking forward to eating the bitch’s ass!”

Dan hefted Ash’s meat up into the shopping trolley.
“We got what we came for. Now we’ve collected the hostess, it’s time to return her to the party.

When they arrived back at Ashleigh’s home, the party was in full swing and everyone was drunk. Almost nobody had clothes on, and the spitroasted secretary was already being plated.

“We’ve returned with the extra meatgirl… and … well, you’ll never believe it, but look who we brought back.” Dan announced victoriously
“The hostess of the party returns to have dinner with us all.”
There was an excited clinking of beer bottles as a cheers for the returning gatherers success.

They plated her using her own meat display stands. The kind that made sure everyone could see her tiny titties, and hook opened ass, and pussy. Ashleigh would have been mortified by the prospect of being seen as a girl by all these people… had she not been a cooked corpse.

Tina walked up to Ashleigh’s big screen television, and put on the snufftube app, searching out the video QR code she’d stored on her phone.
“And I brought a movie to watch for dinner.” She played with her words in feigned coyness.
Ashleigh’s snuff video began to play, as Dan began the work of carving up the two roasted girls on the dinner table.

Her guests gathered round, drinking the last of her beer, kissing and canoodling each other, and heaping great slabs of her meat and stuffing onto paper plates. They shovelled the thick pieces of her tender, juicy meat into their hungry mouths, as they watched Ashley’s nervous arrival at Riraito’s fine meats.

Dan carved himself out Ash’s divine pussy fillet, and placed it on his own plate. Meat juices spilled and beaded on the waxed paper surface.

Some of the viewers were beginning to engage in foreplay on the couches, enjoying eating their hostess, as they watched the doctors argue over the proper grading for her meat.

“Wow, she used to look like that” Sally said when she saw the older meatgrading photo of Ashley with long girl hair. “I knew she was a cute boy… but she was my type as a girl too, I guess.” She said, as she stripped the meat and gravy off one of ashleigh’s rib racks.
“Mmmm… I guess she’s my type of barbeque too.”

Dan placed his fingers in the roasted corpse’s mouth and sawed through Ash’s neck with the carving blade. He wriggled the knife through the gap in her spine until her skull came free. His hands lifted her head up high, and then pushed it down onto a waiting display spike. Ash’s cooked neck stump slid wetly over the short metal trophy rod.

“I think I’ll keep your skull on my trophy wall, Ash” Dan promised his best friend. “Even if I never got the chance to fuck you!”

“Eew, the sow is shitting herself now” Tina laughed at the TV image of Ashliegh crapping in her snuff video, “I’m trying to eat my food… so gross.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely going to fast for like a week before I go in for my snuff day when it comes.” Sally agreed. “I don’t want a bunch of pervs like Dan getting hard watching me take a crap.”


Sure enough, Dan was looking at the TV ad his former best friend, with a raging boner. “Sorry girls.., but I guess I kinda find her attractive… now that I know she was a girl and all. I can’t help myself. I never really saw her that way when she was a boy, but now I know, she was hot. I wish I’d gotten a chance to tap that ass.”

Tina smiled a wicked smile and bent down in front of him.
“That girlfriend of yours not satisfying you?” She teased, presenting her pussy and asshole to him by pulling her buttock to the side with her hand.
“I can sort that boner out for you, you just watch that faker get snuffed, while you pork my dripping wet pussy. I’ll even let you call out her name, while you cum in me.”

Dan smiled as he took her up on her offer, sliding balls deep into her doggystyle.
Sally watched the two of them start fucking, and let her own hand wander to her privates. She returned her gaze to the TV as Ashliegh spilled her guts into the mincer. Sally didn’t usually indulge in masturbation at an orgy… usually she went for the actual thing. But her beau, or rather belle of choice was now unavailable.

Snuff videos weren’t really her thing…but watching a romantic interest’s last moments alive sparked the voyeur inside her. It was like a window into the parts of a person that they never shared, not even with lovers.

On the tv, Ashleigh squirmed almost pleasurably as she was filled with stuffing. The poor virgin had probably never had her pussy spread and filled like that before. And then that staff member with the blue hair teased her like that.
Sally flicked her lovebud in circles rapidly. She could see that Ashy liked that a lot. It made her sweaty and happy too.

The masturbating girl sat down on Ash's couch, surrounded by an orgy in full swing. Ashleigh entered the oven, and Sally furiously schlicked herself to her friend's frenzied struggling… It was almost like watching sex in a way. Perhaps, even more exciting?

Ashleigh reached the climax of the snuff video, convulsing as she died.
Tina, still holding her phone as she was railed from behind, used it as a remote to pause the screen right past the moment Ashleigh expired.

“Oh Ash, I’m cuming” shouted Dan, his eyes still locked on the TV as he impregnated the slut Tina. She looked extremely satisfied as the cum dribbled out her cock hole.

Sally couldn’t break her own look away from the precise moment of Ash’s death.
The paused killcam had all kinds of details superimposed, giving intimate details about her final moments, but Sally was fixated on the face of Ashleigh… locked into what was almost certainly some kind of perpetual dying, silent scream. The same one still stuck on her roasted head mounted on the dining table.

From Sally’s perspective though, it almost mirrored her own orgasm face, as she squirted on Ashliegh’s couch. She thought to herself covered in her own vaginal juices,and in post orgasmic bliss, that Ashley Williams had really outdone herself this time. This was really a barbeque that people were going to talk about fondly for years to come.

Since she was a little girl, Melody had wanted to be a Riraito’s Fine Meats Snuffslut. It had started when her older sister, Lucy, had won the meat lottery.

Their father had purchased the two of them VIP backstage tours of the butchery to watch as Lucy was processed into meat.

She’d had a vague idea that her family ate people for dinner sometimes, but until then, she hadn’t fully comprehended the true horrors of a modern meat plant.

They treated Lucy and her fellow meatgirls like livestock, herding them from one humiliation to another.

First the girls were required to strip themselves naked. Then they were poked and prodded and judged on the qualities of their bodies. After that they were made to shower and shit. Melody and her dad had watched from the video monitors in the hidden VIP room above the bathroom.

Finally, they were taken, chained in line by the neck to the kill floor. There they could witness the inhumane depravity being inflicted on the meatgirls who had gone before them.

Melody had observed intently as her sister had been pulled to gutted alive, her intestines stringed out of her stomach cavity, and dumped down an incinerator chute to be burned away.

Some of the other VIP’s had masturbated right there beside her. She hadn’t put her own hand inside her pussy, she had felt too embarrassed at the time. By the time Lucy was an empty husk, Melody had creamed her panties.

Her daddy had smiled and told her that’
“One day, she’d be a hunk of lifeless meat just like Lucy too.”

Young Melody had liked that idea a lot.

Years passed, and Melody grew into a beautiful woman, even if she was fairly unconfident in her looks. She was now ever more in love with the idea of becoming a meatgirl like her older sister had. She was older now than Lucy ever had been, yet still her lottery number hadn’t yet been called.

Melody was beginning to wonder if her time would ever come. One by one, her friends were all starting to get rounded up for conversion, but she hadn’t been picked herself yet. Her lottery number never came up on the weekly draws.

So on her 21st birthday, she decided that she would volunteer her body at the local branch of Riraito’s fine meats. It would be her birthday gift to herself.

The meatpacking plant she arrived it was cold and sterile. The pleasant local butchery that fronted the factory smelled faintly of blood and lemon scented cleaner. There was a handsome man behind the counter who called her up. His sandy coloured hair was cut short, and it suited him well.

“How can I help you today ma'am?” He asked curtly, lounging behind the desk. Melody brushed the hair from her eyes and stared at the lurid volunteer pamphlets that decorated the polished wooden information desk. All the naked meatgirls on the covers looked so happy.
She knew she was making the right decision.

“I’d like to volunteer to be processed,” she said matter of factly. She wanted to come off as sounding confident, but ended up coming across as nervous and unsure.

The man in blue overalls leaned forwards and pushed an official looking form with government seals on it.
“Fill out the volunteer form, and sign it.. we have plenty of execution options available. From the quick and painless, to the torturous and dragged out. Have you already picked one out, or would you like some help deciding?” he enquired helpfully.

Melody blushed at the attention, she didn’t think she was worthy of it.
“No thanks, I already know how I want to go out. I’ve been thinking about it for years.” She said, quickly selecting the boxes for live oven roasting, blue doneness, and post cooking head destruction. She signed it and handed it back to him.

Her sudden decisiveness seemed to pique his attention.

“Mmm, that's an unusual method, most volunteers opt for something fast, and choose to leave their heads intact so they can look pretty in death.” He noted, as he studied the details she’d printed on the surface of the paper.

Melody nodded. “I want you to smash my face. I’m too ugly. So I chose to put my head through the blender. I hope I'm still alive when it happens. I don’t want people to see me as anything other than a fried torso.” She blurted it all out in a single unbroken sentence, like a girl with aspergers talking about her favourite subject. He looked at her like he didn’t believe a word that the gorgeous girl said about her appearance, but was happy to play along with her insecurities..

“We’ll kick that disassembly line into production. We didn’t have it scheduled for operation today, it was supposed to get some regular maintenance today but we can delay that, heat up the ovens, spin up the blenders, and start reassigning lottery meatgirls to join you in the line.” He said with a thoughtful expression. Melody guessed he was the type that enjoyed his work.

“My goodness, you’re going to force all those girls to die in the same way as me, just because I requested an industrial cooking instead of a personal one? That’s amazing” Her pussy was dripping wet.

“Sure we will. A volunteer's execution should be perfect. A meatgirl only gets to do it once, after all.” He said coyly. “Hmm, speaking of things you only get to do once, I see here you’ve marked yourself as down as a virgin.”

“Um, yes… I'm not very pretty like the other girls, so I’ve never had the courage to ask a boy out. I’m just a worthless snuffslut after all. It wouldn’t be worth the effort to fuck me. I’m not experienced at all“ she replied, blushing furiously.

“nonesense, it's my lunch break in a few minutes. I’ll come down to the meatgrade waiting rooms and sort you out personally. A snuffslut who knows her place like you deserves a dicking at least once before she gets popped.” He mused

“I don’t think that’s necessary, I wouldn't be a very good lay, I’ve never done it before. You’d be disappointed, I’m sure."

“Well, you’ve already signed your body away to the facility, so you’re mine to do with as I please. You’re no longer a pretty girl. You’re meat now. Now get your ass to the reception corridor so your attendance can be recorded for the meat manifest, Sow!” he ordered, slapping her on the backside of her jeans.

Melody was a little surprised by his sudden shift of personality. It was as if the minute she’d put her pen to paper, he no longer considered her to be human any longer. He thought of her as merely livestock. Her worth to him was now entirely based around her physical body. She breathed heavily and lustfully at the thought.
“Yes, Butcher, this sow will obey.” She lowered her head diminutively to signal her submission..

He seemed pleased that she seemed to know her place. He smiled greedily as she walked through the sliding glass doors into the waiting area for the meatgirl reception.

The cold air of the air-conditioner blasted her as she stepped through the threshold. There were already lines of girls waiting to have their names and meat ID’s catalogued so they could strip naked and begin their process of being converted into meat.

Melody lined up behind a little clique of about 5 beautiful ladies, all of them looked a little bit older than her. They were nattering among themselves, having started a little conversation to help calm their nerves. They made her feel nervous.

The man from the reception strode up to the naked blonde volunteer receptionist and whispered something in her ear. She reacted as though it was something pleasantly scandalous. She used her fingers pointing to count out the girls in the line from the back. She stopped at the short haired brunette five girls ahead of Melody.

The receptionist looked at her intake forms on her tablet screen and searched for a name to match the face.
“Fiona Nichols, Meatgirl ID 65737952 please raise your hand” the receptionist called.
The short haired brunette raised her hand gingerly.
“And Mrs Patricia Waller, Meatgirl ID 8987576, also raise your hand” she continued
The big blonde milf with the big boobs four people back in the line tentatively raised her hand as well.

“Ok, every meatgirl between the two pigs raising their hands in the air, we’re pushing your snuff timetables up a bit to fill a special order. It's going to be unpleasant for you all, but you’ll probably still be alive when you finish cooking. So at least you'll get to experience leaving the oven. Most girls don’t get that honour” She stated, ushering the gaggle of 10 girls including Melody to the front of the line.

They all looked a bit queasy about the prospect. It sounded like something from a top selling snuff video. The tall, fair, teenager directly behind Melody, with shoulder length mousy brown hair, squeaked with a thick European accent “Vaat? You’re joking right? I'm just foreign transfer student from Germany. It’s crazy my number vaas even drawn at all, I've only been here a veek. Now you’re saying you're going to cook me alive?

“Well, you wanted the full Dolcett cultural experience girl, now I guess you got it” piped up a redhead from near the back of the line .
“My name’s Hannah, what’s yours?” she asked

“Gertrude, it is a pleasure to meet you…it is a shame though, that it is under these circumstances.” The German girl answered


“Mom, I don’t wanna burn alive, please don’t let them do this to me.” a blonde girl about the same age as the transfer student begged the Milf who was bringing up the rear.

“Candace Jane Waller, I didn’t raise you to be a whiner. You’re a meatgirl now, it's high time you act like it.” Patricia, The big bosomed blonde said strictly.

“But mom, you didn’t raise me to be a side of roast beef either. James was gonna ask me out to the prom, I know it.. I’m too young to die!” the teen cried.

“You know very well that they roast girls half your age in facilities like these… You’re not special Candace, you’re just another young calf to be slaughtered. So toughen up and accept your new role.” Her mother reprimanded her sternly.

The fight between the mother and daughter pair of meatgirls continued to drone on as they failed to agree on anything. It was an odd set of circumstances to get a mother and daughter winning the lottery at the same time.

Melody was drenching her panties. All these girls were already going to be snuffed today, but her selfish volunteer request had doomed them to suffer for a prolonged period beside her.

She was responsible for all the pain and suffering they were about to endure.

“Step past the reception desk and disrobe, your butcher will guide you for a meatgrade assignment.” ordered the receptionist sternly

“Oh, my god, I’m not ready” came the voice of the girl in front that had been identified by the receptionist as Fiona Nichols. The meatgirl posed to show off her assets better as she unbuttoned her blouse. Melody supposed she was a bit vain.

“Me neither, ” said Hannah, the redhead near the back of the line as she pulled down her pastel pink panties. “I thought I was going to be fine with it, after all, I’ve known this day was probably coming for most of my life, but in the end I just can’t get used to the idea that they’re gonna roast me alive. It’s all so barbaric, isn’t it?

“I’m kinda feeling excited but terrified. My heart’s beating out of my chest… or maybe it's just nerves?” Said patricia as she unclipped her braziere and her ample titties bounced around. “ It feels weird knowing by this afternoon, I won’t be alive anymore. The whole thing is so cold and dehumanising”

Melody was entranced by the Milf’s gorgeous breasts. She imagined how succulent they would be once fully fried by the oven.

The butcher from the front desk strode up beside Melody and leaned down to whisper delicately in her ear. “You see those older cows in front of you? I’m gonna make sure they go first. Give you a good view of what’s going to happen to you before you go through it yourself. You’d like that wouldn’t you snuffslut?”

Melody nodded meekly, afraid to answer out loud in case any of the other meatgirls overheard her.

She dropped her favourite jacket and shirt into the waiting incinerator bin, and tried, and failed to remove her jeans as sexily as she could for her butcher.

He barely even noted her attention seeking motions. She supposed that he saw naked bodies every single day of his job. She realised that he must surely be desensitised to it all by now. What he sought from her must’ve been deeper than just her looks.

She looked up at him desperately, as Melody pulled her bra off and peeled her soaked panties. The distinct aroma of horny pussy filled the air. She presented her nude body for his approval. He looked at her like a dog looks at a steak, hungrily.

She knew it was because her boobs weren’t the biggest, her face was ugly, and her pussy looked funny. Still, it was a possessive look that made sure she knew that regardless of how she saw heraelf, he’d still be fucking her brains out in front of all the other meatgirls in a few minutes..

He reached down and placed a finger against Melody’s hairy pubic mound, bringing the wet digit back to his lips for a taste.

“Your fillet tastes pretty good sow. I reckon it’ll feel just as good when it’s wrapped tightly around my cock.” He teased her, bathing in her highly visible embarrassment.

“OK Pigs, time to get a move on. You’re all special orders, so meatgrading is just a formality today. Nobody cares how much effort you spent getting your bodies into shape, you’re all getting flat B grades today, no matter the quality of your meat.”

“B grade?” the blonde teenager, Candace sputtered “But… that’s unfair! I spent all that time in extra curricular exercise classes to keep up an A- body. I heard they mutilate the B grades!”

“I thought ve vere supposed to be oven roasters today? But aren’t they all A grade meats? I know from my lessons at my exchange school that B grade is supposed to be for meat that’s cut into pieces.” The foreign student uttered, not quite understanding.

The Milf at the back, Patricia, corrected her. “We’re special orders honey, means we’re the best available meat to fit a custom order. We automatically get upgraded or downgraded to whatever grade the order needs to get filled.”

The redhead, Hannah, joined in. “They change the rules as they like. You think there are actually real checklists for our bodies?… The doctors just make up the grade based on how they personally think you look. This entire system is fucked like that! None of it makes any real sense!”

Melody was sure that outburst was entirely untrue. The reason for the discrepancy and their arbitrarily lower meatgrades was solely because of her volunteer choices.

When they were fully naked, the butcher opened the rope gate and ushered them all through. The line of meatgirls entered the Meatgrading rooms single file. One of the attending doctors looked up.

“These the special order sows?” he asked in a bored tone.

“Yeah. you can go through the motions and feel 'em up like usual, but they’re all getting a B grade regardless of their quality” Melody’s butcher muttered. “I’m on break - so I’m gonna have some fun taking care of tenderising this sow personally.Truss em up for branding, and we’ll do it on the dias so she can see em being marked as I fuck her silly.

Melody shrieked shortly as he unexpectedly bent her over one of the branding horses doggy style, pulled her legs apart, peeled her labia open and slid his erect member into her already wet virgin pussy.

He did it so smoothly, probably because he’d done something like this every day he’d worked here. Melody wondered how many other girls he’d raped exactly like this… it was probably a lot, she guessed.

There was no love or tenderness in the way he raped her. She was simply a tool for him to blow off some steam by getting his rocks off. She moaned like a whore, it was exactly how she wanted to be used.

Every time one of her fellow meat girls squealed as she was branded, he seemed to get harder. He was far too big for her. Every greedy thrust hurt, but also edged her closer to cumming. She was so wet that he was just hammering her without any resistance.

Every time another sow got branded she felt her need for release grow.

“I’M CLOSE! BUTCHER!,You’re gonna make me cum on your cock.” She shrilled in a breathless voice.

Another hot B was burned into an upset meatgirl’s rump, and Melody felt the ryhthmic spasm of her vaginal muscles building up to her climax, her virgin body FINALLY doing what it was born to do, milk the semen from a man’s dick. He shot his load directly into her orgasming pussy


She relaxed in exhaustion as he continued to spurt thick wads of sperm into her twitching womanhood. He raised a red hot poker from a nearby pot of heated coals, and stamped it down on her left buttock. The pain was like white hot lightning. Melody saw stars. She felt her nipples go rock hard, and she shivered in pain and delight. He’d marked her as his. She’d known it since she signed her life over, but now she felt it truly. She was property.

He reached down and rewarded her for her sexual performance with a metal neck collar that chained her to the four other girls who’d been behind her in line.

“Ok, piggies, fun’s over” her butcher stated, as if any of the other girls had even remotely enjoyed the experience of being roughly felt up and branded.
“Time for you livestock to shower, shit, and herd you out onto the killfloor.” He prompted them all to start moving by yanking on the chain that led them. The girls started to gingerly limp to the next room on their final journey.

They all used the lavatories as instructed. Melody squatted over the ground level ceramic bowl and did her business as she’d been ordered to. She knew that there were secret cameras everywhere in the facility livestreaming and recording her entire snuffing process. It wasn’t exactly a well kept secret, but Melody still couldn’t spot the camera she knew very well to be pointing upwards at her crotch.

Cum was still dribbling from her pussy into the bowl. She was trying to keep it in her belly for as long as possible, but it wasn’t possible to not squirt some out as she started pissing into the squat toilet.

She heard a shuffling noise directly behind her. It was her butcher looking over her shoulder again, offering her none of even the pseudo-privacy her Meatgirl fellows were being afforded.
“Sow, look at the mess you made, you forgot to clean me off after I finished using you.” He motioned to his cock, which was still slick with spots of semen and vaginal mucus.
Melody felt awkward.
“I’m about to do a poo… are you sure you don’t want to wait till I’m finished?” She asked, knowing full well that he would still want to do it right there in the stall.

“The oven will almost be preheated now, so we’ll need to finish up here quickly. Use your mouth to clean this mess off my cock, while you take your final shit.”

Melody realised that she was probably going to top the livestream numbers for the week with her snuff video. Hundreds, if not thousands of men and boys (and some lucky girls) were going to be stoking themselves to the video of her giving a blowjob while taking a crap. Those few moments of her life would probably live on in the internet far longer than Melody’s remaining lifespan. By the time most of them jizzed, she’d be a corpse on a rack somewhere.

The snuffslut wrapped her lips around the smegma covered cock and started licking and sucking noisily over his shaft. At the same time she squeezed out a little turd into the concave bowl below with a tight little fart. She’d never done anything like this before. It was like something out of one of her Dolcett Harlequin romance paperbacks, where the heroine gets humiliated and swept off her feet by some dashing young human butcher, before inevitably getting her head swept off her body.

Melody forced herself to inhale his cock all the way till her bottom lip touched his balls, choking on his member to do so. Then she stretched out her tongue as she gagged, and wrapped it around his balls, taking in their salty taste. She didn’t really like the flavour much, but she did as she was told. Involuntary tears ran down her cheeks as she burned for air.

Her executioner groaned his pleasure as she made him cum for a second time. Baby batter squirted down the back of her throat and then onto her face as he withdrew from her mouth. The tip of Melody’s tongue mopped up the remaining strands from the head of his penis.

“Now, this is a toilet. Hold still while I use you to drain the snake” he said as he aimed his cock at the top of her hair and started to pee on her.

He’s using me as a toilet, yes, YES! Melody thought obscenely as the urine drenched her hair, ran down her face and dripped onto her boobs.
“Good Sow” He complimented her. She felt happy at his praise.

“That was a great blowjob and piss, but don’t look so pleased with yourself. By this time tomorrow, I’ll have forgotten all about you as I get another one from another equally worthless pig.” His absolute disregard of her as a person made her happy.

A water jet from the toilet cleaned her asshole out. The group of five girls ahead of her in line was ushered out on the killfloor to make room for Melody and her group of snuffees to shower. He chained her to the floor.

“I’ll return the favour and clean you up now” he said, grabbing a scrubber, and lathering soap over her glistening wet naked body. He was rough and thorough, scrubbing and massaging till Melody was devoid of blemishes and urine he shampooed her hair thoroughly, rubbing his fingers deep into her scalp till

The other girls were all looking at her enviously. They probably wanted that kind of attention themselves, but they were all lottery winners, none of them had volunteered, so they were denied such perks.

Clean at last, the showers turned off automatically, and there was nothing left but to be guided out to the machine that would end her life.

Melody was in front of her line, as they were led to the binding table. Her butcher patted the stainless steel tabletop expectantly, motioning for her to get up on it. When she obliged, swinging her legs up and placing her butt on the freezing steel, he started to truss her body tightly with manacles. Already Melody could hear energetic screaming from up ahead as the group of five mature ladies in the lead entered the oven.

It was a unique old model oven from the early, more experimental days of the Dolcett revolution. It was a ‘U’ shaped display model, designed to give incoming meatgirls a full view of their ultimate fate.

It was the kind of thing you might see in a smaller, more boutique butchery. It must have been a relic from the early days of Riraito’s fine meats, when it had been a smaller operation.

Melody could see the heat waves emanating from the superheated air at the entrance to the interior of the oven. “

“She’s a beauty isn’t she?. We only really kick her on when we have a lot of blue roasts to make. She crisps the skin and fat perfectly, while leaving the insides rare.” he said proudly.

“ You’re in for a real treat sow. It’s perfectly calibrated to deliver the most painful and long lasting cooking process for its meat. The heating elements closest to the entrance are cooler than the ones at the exit. So it’ll take about an hour of dancing at low heat before it finishes you with a quick reverse sear on the way out, by blasting you with superheated air that will caramelize your skin and fat.”

Melody squirmed happily at the description. She loved every aspect of it.

“And at the end, we'll cut off your ugly face and drop it into a blender. It's what a worthless sow like you deserves isn’t it?”

Melody found that her cunt was already slick again. It was exactly how she wanted her life to end.

Once he’d finished binding Melody, he did the same with Gertrude, Cassandra, Hanna and Patricia, one at a time in order. When he was done with the prep work, he set off the carousel, and the metal carriage lifted her, and all the other girls off the table, upside down and tightly bound.

As her line of meatgirls approached the oven, it gave the perky brunette a good view of the exit. The twitching browned body of the girl who’d been identified as Fiona Nichols slid out of the scorching heat and back out into the open air.

The spasming meatgirl was still somehow just clinging to life despite her clearly fatal third degree burns. It was obvious that she wouldn’t last long no matter what happened now.

The carousel device lowered her steaming meat body down towards a clear plastic tube filled with waiting razor blades.

A mechanical buzzsaw arced into her neck and swiftly severed it from her body. The short haired college student’s head dropped into the plastic bucket. It survived for a moment before the weight of it triggered the automatic on switch.

The blender whirred into life, chewing up her skull from the bottom of the container. Spinning blades shattered bone and pulped brains until all that remained was a red pin

Monica Smith woke up on the brisk Thanksgiving morning, the same as she did any other day, wrapped in the warm naked embrace of her husband, Kevin. She snuggled against him in the early morning rays as she yawned softly and mentally prepared herself for her day.

She stretched as she left the soft satin sheets of her love nest to go and prepare breakfast for her family.

Monica rummaged through the fridge, fishing out some cold eggs, and a thick slab of hand cut girl bacon, which she slid into a preheated pan of sizzling oil. She was greeted with the heavenly aroma of cooking meat.

The smell filled the space and magically summoned her daughters and husband from their slumber. Kevin planted a small kiss on her cheek, his handlebar moustache tickling her as he did so.

“Bacon and Eggs for breakfast, I knew I married you for a reason. You really are the best cook. I can't wait to see what you whip up for Thanksgiving dinner tonight” he complimented her.
She smiled at the attention he was giving her.

Karin, her eldest, switched on the TV using the remote as she waited to be served her breakfast. Penny poured herself a bowl of cereal, claiming that she was on a diet. Monica rolled her eyes at her daughter's antics. The girl could stand to shed a few pounds, but she knew that the diet would only last till the end of the week.

Monica fished out the food from the frying pan and plated it onto the china plates, wheeling it out to the dining table. She sat down and placed a crispy bit of girl bacon into her mouth while she watched the morning news program. It was some morning show doing a puff piece on the presidential turkey pardons. It was the same thing as this time every year.
All the way across town, Caroline Everett tossed in bed as her alarm blared noisily in her darkened room. She blinked through sleep crusted eyes. A single shard of hot light pierced the middle of the room from where a gap in the curtains let it creep in. The second hand alarm clock blared its tinny ring that was too loud for her brain. Caroline slapped down on the snooze switch hard.
“Five more minutes she muttered under her breath” knowing somewhere in the back of her mind that she’d probably actually take thirty minutes more.

Still half asleep, she thoroughly brushed her teeth in her bathroom. She was diligent, even though she barely had the willpower to keep the brush moving.

In the living room, she could hear her sister beginning to rouse for the day. She showered quickly and dried off, hurrying out to the kitchen to ensure her sibling got something to eat before she went out on her morning run.

She lifted an almost empty box of Dolcett O’s and poured it out into a bowl of milk. Carolime brought the cereal over to Lizzie, and dipped a spoon in, bringing out a bright mouthful of milk-drenched wheat rings, up to Lizzie’s lips.

Lizzie hadn’t been the same since her state mandated lobotomy.

Once, she’d been a university student, with a bright future, the kind with an important job, and grade B exemption papers.

Now, she just drooled and spoke simple words in a monotonous retarded drawl. It was what you got when you attended campus protests against the national Dolcett policies. What a stupid thing to do for someone so smart.

Caroline looked sadly upon the vacant face of her sister.

Monica sat reading in her favourite armchair by her library, drinking a glass of wine. It was a great way to start a lazy Saturday morning. The picked up one of her favourite history volumes and started pouring through the pages. She was enthralled for hours, before Kevin finally yelled that the car was ready, and they went out in the car for family brunch at their favourite fancy restaurant Jessica21 like they did every weekend.

She sat in the car ride on the way home, sending out the pictures she’d taken of the beautiful food onto her social media account. Her family chatted gently in the car around her.

When they arrived home, the girls and her husband went ahead of her, while she stayed back and collected the mail. There were a few letters waiting in the box already, she recognised what most of them were about just by looking at the envelopes. Bank statements, Share dividends, Thanksgiving letters from distant relatives, that kind of thing. One letter, however, stood out from all the others. It was a plain white envelope with her name, address and Meat ID number emblazoned on the front. And a big fancy red government seal from the Department of Human Resources. It wasn’t time for her annual meatgrade again was it? She’d have to make an appointment with her doctor. The only other thing it could be about wasn’t even worth considering. It was just too horrible to conceive.

Caroline jogged hard in the autumn breeze. She worked her body like a machine. It was the only time of the day she really had to herself, so she used it to improve her body like she wanted to. Living in Dolcett was a hard life for a girl with so many responsibilities. She had to take the time out of her day to exercise. Caroline wanted to get up to an A Meatgrade this year, so she didn’t have to worry about getting parted out if she won the lottery.

She didn’t really fancy the idea of potentially one day getting snuffed for her meat, but that was how the world worked. There was nothing she could do to change that, all she could do was live in it. She continued to pump her legs as hard as she could, stopping only for a quick break, some water and a protein bar, before wiping of her sweat, and getting in her shitbox of a secondhand car and driving to work.

She hated her work. It was a soul crushing 8 hours of telemarketing, selling timeshares in beachfront housing at beach houses in Hawaii. It was all fraudulent crap, and it was basically all butt impossible to reliably achieve the artificially inflated sales quotas that management set. She was sure that she was getting fired this week. She couldn’t afford that at all, not with needing to care for Lizzie.

So she hung on the lines, and stayed some extra unpaid hours to hit her numbers so that her rich jackass boss could buy himself another Ferrari, and cut bonuses for another year running. She hated every minute of her twelve hour workday.

When she drove back home, the light had almost faded from the sky. She walked over to her apartment’s mailbox area. Some punk had tagged it years ago, and the HOA still hadn’t done anything about repainting it.

Caroline opened up the tiny box with her tiny key. Inside was filled to the brim with bills, and notices of overdue rent. It was a second job all on its own of managing repayments for debts she’d incurred from taking care of Lizzie. There were so many unexpected costs, and the rates on payday loans were simply disgusting. One envelope stood out from the others though. It was a plain white envelope with her name, address and Meatgrade ID printed in small black letters on the front, with the Seal of the Department of Human resources stamped in the upper right hand corner.

Huh, was it that time of the year already? It must be her annual reminder to get her meatgrade taken. She didn’t know where she’d get the money for the doctor’s appointment from. She hadn’t planned for this expense at all. Maybe she could delay Lizzie’s wheelchair repayments for a couple of weeks to make up the shortfall? Of course, there was also the other thing that it could be about. Caroline didn’t even want to think about that.

The cheap blank government envelope tore easily in her hands. Her heart pounded in her chest. She hoped that it wasn’t what she thought it was. Her hands lifted the paper out so she could read it and she was greeted with the bright red seal of the Dolcett Department of Human Resources. She’d dreaded the inevitable coming of this day for her entire life.

Perhaps if she’d worked harder at school when she’d had the chance, she could have earned a grade B exemption, but sadly her job only qualified her for a rank C exemption, and Thanksgiving was always a busy period for meat sales.

She thought about the family who relied on her for her income and care. What would they do without her, when she was…. Processed? God, was she going to be another one of those hanging corpses she saw at the supermarket freezer, just in time for the thanksgiving rush? She visualised her own dead body hanging upside down in the chilly freezer air, and it made her feel weird just thinking about it.

She started to make plans for how to proceed in light of the grisly news. Appropriate accommodations would need to be made to ensure continuity of care for her family, and she’d have to ring her boss at the university to arrange for someone else to take over her academic work for the week. It was so much to do, and such little time to do it in. She wondered absentmindedly, whether she’d even be able to make the time for the customary traditional last fuck.

Her husband walked into the room where Monica was sitting in her favourite reading chair.
“Hey honey, I’m surprised you haven’t started cooking the Thanksgiving meal yet. You’re usually so overprepared.” he said, demonstrating how well he knew his wife.

Monica silently handed him the Lottery notice. He took it in his hand and stared at it with a maudlin almost distant stare.
“Well, we knew this day was coming some time. I guess I’ll just have to put in a last minute order for your meat. If you can’t cook us one last Thanksgiving meal, then I guess you can serve as our meal itself.”

Her stomach did a little backflip. She had always known that Kevin liked to source his own female friends and family for his meals and trophies.The heads of his mother, sisters, girlfriends and former wives already decorated the dining room wall as trophies. She wondered how her own head would look as it adorned a wooden plaque next to his last wife, Karen.

The family taxidermist had always done an excellent job with Kevin’s trophies. They were so lifelike, apart from the glazed eyes and unblinking stares. So undoubtedly, she’d be in good hands.

“Well honey… As you can see, it’s short notice. They’re processing me this afternoon. I think we still have enough time to make my last fuck a good long one… Make love to me with the same passion you had on our honeymoon, dear.” she asked like a blushing schoolgirl at prom.

“With pleasure” he replied, leading her by the hand to their marital bed. He removed their clothing carefully and lifted her above his prostrate body and onto his raging hard boner. She was already dripping wet, as she always was when it came to sex time. She moaned like the good little housewife whore she was, as he entered her pussy.

It was a hot, sweaty hour of relentless pounding later, before he finally came inside her. She hadn’t let him cum inside her without a condom since their second girl had been born, but she didn’t see a reason not to let him inseminate her now. A third girl wasn’t going to be the reason she got sent to the meat factory today, and It wasn’t like she’d live long enough to give birth to the baby anyhow.

“God that felt good” He mused. “I haven’t filled you up like that since we were trying for Penny.”
Monica reached down to her tender, and thoroughly used pussy lips and parted then with her fingers. Perhaps it was the knowledge that this was the last time she might ever orgasm, but she felt unbelievably satisfied.

There was a cute little fart-like sound as a finger of thick semen dribbled unbidden. She squeezed her vaginal muscles and a large ooze of off-white translucent baby batter queefed onto her silk bedsheets. Monica couldn’t believe how much cum he’d filled her with.

Kevin slid from the bed and started pulling back on his pants and underwear.
“Come on then, I’ll drive you down to the meat facility myself” he said nonchalantly, as if this were any other Tuesday.
“It’s been a while since I last dated a girl. I’ll have to ask the neighbour's daughter if she’s interested in going to lunch after I drop you down at Riraito’s fine meats.”

Monica knew that was the way dating operated in a Dolcett society, but it felt almost callous to her - like she was being replaced for a newer model after 20 years of marriage. Still, she had her duty to society to uphold. This was the way of thing.
Caroline held the farm brochure limply in one hand and dialed the number on it with her cellphone. The doctors had given the informational pamphlet to her when her sister had undergone her brain surgery. She’d never even once considered using the service, she couldn’t afford it, even if she’d wanted that for Lizzie.

The man on the other end picked up the phone.
“Hello, this is the Dolcett County Breeding ranch, Can I help you with an enquiry, or would you like to make a booking for a breeding session?” he asked with an overly calm voice.

“Um.. yes, an enquiry.. Can I come down to look at the facilities with my sister today? I’ve been scheduled for meat processing this afternoon, and I’d like to see if it would be possible to book her a place at the ranch on our budget.” Caroline stumbled over her words nervously. She didn’t want to be making this call, but she had no other real options. She couldn’t very well look after her sister after she’d become a meatgirl.

“Sure, come right on down, we’ll see what we can do for you.” he replied earnestly before hanging up the phone.

Caroline looked over at her sister, who was watching the news with a rapt attention, even though she was incapable of understanding any of what she was seeing on screen.

Caroline’s brain ignored the presidential thanksgiving turkey pardon speech. It reminded her too much about how she was about to be a roasted turkey feast herself. Watching some lucky girl get spared wasn’t about to put her in a good mood.

She loaded Lizzie’s wheelchair into the back seat of the car, and drove the both of them down to the ranch just outside of the town limits. Lizzie drooled with an excited face as the trees whizzed by the car window. Simple things like that entertained her these days. Nothing at all like the complex political discussions that they used to be passionate about in their youth.

She parked her shitty crapbox of a car under a giant oak tree at the front of the facility. She wheeled her sister out to the reception, where the man she had spoken to on the phone greeted them happily, offering a tour of the breeding farm.
“Hi, My name’s Brett Oakland, and I run this breeding farm. It’s nice to meet you Caroline, and this must be Lizzie?” he said “we’re looking forward to having you here with us.”

He looked a tad disappointed when she responded only with a retarded groan.

“She simple?” he asked, as if he were a horse trader who had just noticed that the horse he was being sold was lame.

“Not quite” Caroline refuted, desperate to keep Lizzie’s options for care open. “She said some things to some people that she shouldn’t have and the government helped her behave better” she said, motioning towards the lobotomy scar on the side of her skull.

“Oh, I see… that’s fine, that won’t affect her babies. Some of our breeding stud workers actually like the lobotomised ones better. They say that dumb cow pussy is better. Me, I prefer it when they got a little pride to crush. Nothing better than forcing an opinioned bitch to choke back her pride and beg me to fuck her pregnant.”

Caroline looked up at him with a mixture of fear and distrust. He was the worst kind of man, the kind that let a little power go to his head.

He toured them around the stables, where hundreds of breeding cows were housed. Each of them was a pregnant girl aged between her late teens and early thirties. Their arms and legs had been removed, and they were mounted into bondage that prevented them from leaving their little box barricade.

One of the cute young breeders was getting inseminated as they passed by. The blonde girl lewdly moaned her objections to getting railed.
“Please no, I don’t want to give birth again.” she begged, tears in her eyes, as she huffed and puffed and her pussy made wet slapping sounds as the stud’s meat rod stimulated her slut vagina.

“Shut up cow, and get pregnant again. I’m gonna keep using your body until you whelp some boys for me.” he retorted, slapping her hard on the ass. She squealed in a way that made it almost sound like she enjoyed his rough handling as he raped her.

Caroline grimaced silently. She didn’t want to have to leave her sister in a place like this, but with her salary as a single woman, this was barely even an option to begin with. It was either this, or volunteer Lizzie to the Meat factory along with her.

“We take good care of the breeding cows under our supervision.” The farm operator said while looking at the stubby limbed blonde cow as she was being fucked. “They get two square meal a day from the trough, in the morning and evening, and at least one fuck a day. They’ll squirt out babies every nine months till the day they die, and get milked daily.” He seemed proud of his operation.

Caroline swallowed nervously.
“How much would it cost to house Lizzie here?” she inquired with trepidation. She was sure she could just barely cover it now that she would no longer have to pay bills and rent.

“Most of the housing costs are covered by studding member fees, milk sales, and government baby making rebates…” He started, pausing like he was about to interject a ‘but’
“... However, there is still a considerable one time surgery cover charge for her breeding cow conversion of 12000 Dolcett bucks, and a stabling fee Of 200 Dolcett bucks” he said with a wicked grin

What? This was the first time she’d heard anything about a stabling fee.At this late hour, she didn’t really have any other options left to take care of Lizzie. Was he shaking her down?

“What? I thought that…. I’m a little short on the stabling fee, maybe 30 bucks or so. Is there any chance we could waive that fee?” she haggled out of desperation.

His eyes flashed like he had a pair of aces, and a bad poker face.
“No can do little missie.! We take the rules very seriously here at the ranch.”He grinned a shit eating grin. Caroline waited for the penny to drop, he was clearly angling for something now.
“Only thing you might be able to do if you’re short thirty is to work it off with your body. Your processing is this afternoon right?” He stated, matter of factly, opening his wallet to show off a thick wallet full of cash.
“If you ask me just right, I’m sure I could stoop to helping you fill that gap.”

Caroline understood his kind of twisted personality well. He was the kind of man that liked to play games with his prey.

“Mr Oakland… Please let me give you a blowjob to earn that money. My sister really needs to be cared for at your farm” She did her best to bite her tongue, and put on her best cutesy falsetto.

He smiled like the dog that caught the postman.
“That sounds like a good start, but I’m going to make you really earn that thirty. Beg me to rape that slutty pussy of yours” he commanded her.

“That’s unfair…” Caroline yelled indignantly before she caught herself. She needed this. She’d have to swallow her pride and let him do whatever he wanted to her.
“Please Master Oakland, I beg you… please rape my slutty pussy. I really need your cum inside me!” Caroline couldn’t disguise her look of fiery indignation as she begged

He unzipped his work pants, and beckoned her to start sucking. She took his thick sweaty dick into her mouth. She wasn’t very experienced at giving blowjobs, having only ever had one boyfriend in college, but she was very confident she knew how to deliver a good one. She wrapped her tongue around his shaft and pulled it in.

“Good girl” he said with the same patronising cadence he might use with a beast of burden. Brett patted her on the head in approval, and nodded his head as a form of silent command to two of the nearby farmhands.

They knew what it meant, and immediately yanked Lizzie from her wheelchair. Her blanket fell to her feet, as she tried to push them away from her. The invalid girl’s eyes were wide in fear. She was unable to understand what they were doing to her, and it scared her.

“Araline” Lizzie gurgled her sibling’s name, trying desperately to get help as the strange men stripped her naked on the spot, in preparation for her first insemination session.

Caroline tried her best not to get distracted by Lizzie’s petrified gurgling calls for help. Lizzie was a breeder now, she’d just have to get used to her new life on the farm.
“Focus on me” said the tall cowpoke, as he made sure Caroline knew what her priorities should be. “All the way down to my balls.”
She gagged as she deepthroated his dick, but didn’t dare stop inhaling his cock. So involved with delivering the perfect blowjob, Caroline barely noticed as her sister was double penetrated by the two famhands.Lizzie screamed and moaned like a virgin getting deflowered by a football team.

“Ah, yeah, that’s great, meatgirl.…. I love those defiant eyes of yours.” He complimented her.
“Now, let me give you your last meal.” he said as he came down the back of her throat and into her stomach directly.

Caroline couldn’t breathe. His cock slithered from her mouth, trailing a thin string of cum. She finally inhaled fresh air, and a dribble of cum ran from her nose as she exhaled.

“What a pretty looking face” he admired her snotty face with welling tears in her eyes.
“Now raise your butt so I can get a look at it too.”

“Yes, Master Oakland” she recalcitrantly obliged him by presenting her rump for him to inspect.

“Good”, his grin was like a shark’s. “I can’t wait to fuck that tiny little asshole pucker without lube. You’re going to be limping to the headsman’s block, you cheap whore.”

Caroline bit her lip. Anal was going to be very unpleasant. She glanced over at her sister, and told herself that it was all worth it so that her sister could have a chance to keep living a little longer..

The intake crowd at Riraito’s Fine Meats was thick. Thanksgiving day was always a busy time, and they were processing more girls than usual. The same as this time every year they’d added class C exemptions to the Cull as well, so the herd of meatgirls stretched far back around the block.

Kevin dropped Monica off outside the main intake entrance at the facility. He kissed her lovingly goodbye, like he did every day when he drove her to work. This time, however, she’d never be coming back. As she walked away from the car, she could see him open up his phone and start scrolling to the Dolcett County Meat ordering app. She knew he was filling in her Meat ID number so he could order her carcass for Thanksgiving dinner.

A roasting girl rotated on a spitting pole in the window of the front end butcher store. It made her wonder. Her husband was a terrible cook, so she wondered who he would end up getting to cook the big meal for her family without her around.

The crowd filed in slowly, and Monica was drawn into the building’s cavernous meatgirl reception area. A naked woman with a pussy tag, and a staff lanyard was taking names and Meatgirl ID’s behind a stylish wooden podium.

“NEXT!”
The redhead in army uniform ahead of her enunciated her name clearly as she was called up to the podium.
“Olive Mars - Meatgirl ID 230998787”

Monica glanced around at the gaggle of women, all nervously shifting in place as they waited their turn to proceed. She thought she recognised the girl in the white tanktop with the orange headband as someone she knew from when she went to college. What was her name again? Cathy? Candy… no - It was Caroline!. That was it!. Caroline Everett, Anthropology major from Dolcett U.

“NEXT!” Monica heard the attendant call her up. She shuffled to the lectern and looked the busty brunette behind it in the eye.
“Name and Meatgirl ID” she asked monotonously and bored.
“Monica Smith - Meatgirl ID 8008298763” She managed to squeak out as she anxiously played with the cuffs of her sweater..
“Yes, we have you here on the manifest… Let me just mark off receipt of your attendance for processing.” the big boobed volunteer worker used a stylus on a tablet to check off Monica’s presence.

“Um… will it be long to wait before… I’m converted into… meat” she asked
“We’re a little backed up today because of the volume of meatgirls we’re intaking today. It’ll be about an hour from undressing to execution.”
“Oh, ok.”
“Move along, please undress and place your all your clothes and jewelry into the incinerator bin, and wait to be guided to the meatgrading rooms.”

Monica moved along to the bins and started to undress slowly, as if doing that would extend her lifespan somehow.
“NEXT!” the brunette called
“Name and Meatgirl ID” she intoned indifferently.
Caroline tenderly hobbled up to the podium. Her asshole still stung something fierce from her raping at the farm.
“Let’s get this over with… Caroline Everett - Meatgirl ID 4576786” Caroline sullenly replied, not particularly happy with how her day was going so far.

“Yup, I have you here honey… don’t worry too much about the delays, I’m sure you’ll be turning brown over the fire before you know it.” said the woman seemingly obtuse to the source of Caroline’s worries.

The idea of her lightly toned muscles cooking in an oven or over a coal firepit made her feel a little sick. She considered making a run for it, briefly, before deciding better of it.

She was fit, and if she bolted now, she doubted anyone here would catch her… but runaways wère hunted down without exception, and they, and their extended families would be executed in the slowest, most torturous and humiliating methods available.

She’d endured so much to ensure Lizzie could have a life without Caroline around to take care of her. It would be insanity to throw that all away for a fantasy escape that would never succeed.

“Strip naked over there with the others, place your clothes in the receptacles to be burned, then wait for the butcher to guide you for meat assessment.” She continued, unaware of Caroline’s childish wish for freedom.

Caroline moved on and bent over at the stainless steel bins, removing her running shorts, and sports panties, carelessly letting them drop beneath her.

“Caroline? Caroline Everett from Dolcett University? It is you, I knew it!” Came a distantly familiar voice from over her shoulder.

She turned to face the voice and came face to face with a plump looking redhead who was in the process of removing her bra. The clasp sprung open and the woman’s massive titties spilled out and swayed as she moved, like cow udders.

“Oh my god, Monica, is that you? I haven’t seen you since graduation. How are you? What have you been up to?..” she almost forgot where she was. Waiting in line suddenly didn’t seem like such a chore.

“Oh, I’m fine. I’m just getting snuffed today, just a little off the top. How about you, you come here often?” she joked with a humorous employment of nihilism.

Caroline let out a little snigger unexpectedly. Somehow, it seemed funny to her when it was put bluntly like that. Monica had always been a little sarcastic in that way.

“What are you doing these days? Did you marry that older man you were dating, Kevin I think he was named”

“Married twenty years going on may, and still fucking like rabbits.” Monica beamed. “Got two girls, all grown up now and lottery age themselves. My Youngest, Penny is finishing her final year of high school. And Karin’s in her first year of college, studying Arts.” Monica stated, proudly. “And you, did you ever get married?”

“No, I haven’t really had the time for dating, between my job hours, and taking care of my sister at home. Most nights when I’m done, I just collapse into bed, it’s all been so exhausting.” Caroline replied, sounding as exhausted as she claimed to be.

One of the butchers dressed in their standard blue uniform opened the little rope gate that had been blocking their path.
“OK sows, line up double file, and walk this way to the medical room to receive your meatgrades.”

Monica and Caroline continued to catch up and gossip as they made their way to the assessment measuring charts and stood on the floor embedded scales. Doctors came out of nowhere and efficiently took measurements of the meatgirls’ bodies.

Monica’s doctor nodded happily as he wrapped a thin line of tape around her boobs, taking note of the satisfactory numbers he read out, while Caroline’s attendant exchewed the tape and simply tut-tutted as she felt up the firmness of her tiny sporty tits.

“Do they have to be so rough about how they measure us? I always hate getting my annual meatgrades taken.” Caroline complained as the worker lifted up her cupcake sized titties and squeezed her nipples uncomfortably.

“You want them to do their jobs properly, don’t you? It’d suck if they couldn't grade you properly, and you ended up getting sent to the mincers?” Monica primped properly.

Her doctor was examining the womanly thicket of motherly snatch that surrounded her thick fillet with a look that said she probably should have spent more time trimming it to make his job easier to do.

Monica moaned under her breath as she felt him examine her pussy. She liked the way it felt as he peeled her open and explored inside her. Being treated like cattle was kind of scary though.

Caroline winced as fingers prodded at her raw anus and sore pussy.
“Someone had a good time with their last fuck.” the doctor commented as he noted the bruising and minor lacerations that the Farm owner had left her with.
“Your man really knows how to use a girl properly.”

Caroline grimaced at the humiliating insinuation. The doctor coddled her rump, feeling it for irregularities. He lifted it up and massaged it in a way that felt more pervy than scientific.

She wondered if there even was any kind of real grading criteria, or whether it was just another way to humiliate women before they were snuffed.

Leaning over to sneak a peak at her own meatgrading notes, she was shocked to see her fit and trim body wasn’t acing all the checklist. What did it mean that she had a butterface? Or that her muscle fibres were too tough. Wasn’t lean meat sought after, why did she get marked down for that?

She didn’t want to be a live whole roaster like all A grade meatgirls became… but she couldn’t help but feel a little insulted being judged like that. That, and she didn’t want to get parted out like a B grade girl even more.

Her indignation was interrupted by a squeal from Monica, as the fat pig was bent over and branded with a B+. How did a porker like that housewife get a grade that high?

“Bend over bitch, time for you to find out how you’re gonna be served” came the curt instruction.

Caroline obeyed, touching her toes. Tears welled in her eyes as the superheated brand scorched her ass cheek with a B-.

“Now, spread your legs and show me your pussy so I can pierce it with your cooking instructions.

She did as she was told, and the doctor reached down to her labia with a handheld piercing gun.

Click!

Caroline felt the metal ring punch through the folds of her pussy lip.

Fearfully she lifted up the pussy tag to see what it read.

‘Supermarket frozen headless corpse.’

It wasn’t the worst way to go, she thought

“I’m going to be a headless roaster?” Monica shouted from nearby. At least, she’d have company in the guillotine line, Caroline thought.

They were chained up next to each other in line with a half dozen meatgirls, and paraded out towards the meatgirl bathrooms

Being herded like cattle it really began to sink in for the two friends, that it was all really happening to them. They passed a man tending to a cart full of human bones. The specks of blood that covered them were still wet, they were that fresh. In the distance, a row of girls on fancy looking bondage devices hooked to an industrial carousel were being carried to an automatic boltgun along the line.

Off to the side was an unusual sight, a female staff member rolling a lottery barrel, like the kind they had seen on television, being used in the weekly Meatgirl lottery draws. Inside it were thousands of white strips of paper, each one of them bearing a Meatgirl ID number.
The desk she was operating it on had a sign with the words Thanksgiving Turkey Pardon Draw emblazoned on it.

“Holy crap, is the exemption draw being held now?” the lead girl, an asian with long blue-black hair exclaimed hopefully.

“Some Meatgirl is getting lucky right now” exclaimed the girl with the messy, fiery hair that Monica had seen in an army uniform as they’d come in.
“What do you mean ‘exemption’?” asked the teenaged strawberry blonde with pigtails standing behind Caroline.

“It’s Thanksgiving today. You know how they do a presidential turkey pardon on TV for a meatgirl every year? Well - each Meat packing plant in the country has one as well. Some lucky slut here in the facility is getting an A grade permanent exemption certificate today. It could even be one of us.” Explained the raven haired woman with big titties who brought up the rear.

Monica let a little hope creep into her heart. Maybe, just maybe it could be her. She could go back to her family, live life like she always had. It was too much to dream of.

She looked back at Caroline.
“Do you really think it could be one of us? Could we really be freed?” she questioned excitedly

Caroline looked conflicted.
“I don’t know what that would be like. I’ve been broke because I had to take care of my sister for so long. Now that she’s at the farm. I don’t even know what that kind of life would be like. I could get myself back on track, get a new job, pay my bills and actually start living for once”

The athletic brunette let her mind wander over the infinite possibilities that a second chance would give her. She’d come into the facility feeling like it was an inevitable end for someone like her, whose life had gone off the rails. Now she was looking at it like it was the opportunity she needed all along.

The female employee reached into the barrel, and there was a moment of silence as their handler stopped to let them watch the proceedings. None of them dared utter a word, their eyes locked on the hand that was descending into the barrel to fish out a single slip of paper.

The silence was broken only by a loud crack, and a strangled, gurgling cry, as one of the sows in the back of the facility got her brains pulped by a auto-boltgun. She spasmed briefly, pissed herself, then died.

The young woman lifted it up close to her glasses so she could see the number printed on it.
“And the winner of this year’s annual Thanksgiving Turkey Pardon is…” She milked the moment for all it was worth, leaving a pregnant pause at the end.

Monica could feel the anticipation fill the room.

“It’s… A… Sec… ret!” the girl in blue overalls teased cruelly, bringing a finger up to her lips in a mock shh’ing motion..

The disappointment in the anticlimax was palpable. Some girl somewhere in the plant was getting an out… but nobody knew who it was. She’d already been drawn and selected but remained oblivious to her good fortune.

“Caroline, promise me that if it was you that won the draw, that you’ll look after my family for me.” she begged “Kevin’s a terrible cook, and he’ll ruin tonight’s Thanksgiving meal for sure… I know he’s in the market to start dating again, I’m sure he’d take you as a wife if you let him know it was my last wish. We have a great big place… You’d love it there.”

“I promise Monica. If it’s you… just… look in on my sister Lizzie at the farm from time to time. Make sure they’re treating her well. I know she’d love to see a familiar face from time to time.”

“I’ll do that for you Caroline… if I make it out.” Monica agreed.

“OK SOWS! ENOUGH GOSSIPING! We’ve got a schedule to keep. Stop dragging your legs and get inside the bathroom”
The chain of whispering girls all obeyed the butcher. He led them through into the clean tiled bathroom. Girls were already inside, taking showers and emptying their bowels.

Monica blushed. She wasn’t used to this kind of lack of privacy. She could see a line of girls coiling out poos into their stalls.

“Oh my.. is that?... Do we have to?... can I just hold it in until after they chop my head off?” She muddled out, not really wanting to be seen like that herself.

Caroline thought her friend was being a bit of a prude.
“Get over it, Monica. You don’t want to be one of those women from America’s funniest snuff videos do you? You try to hold it in, and you’ll end up being one of those fat dumb sluts that crap themselves when they get beheaded.”

Kevin liked that show. He watched it every week. She didn’t want to be one of those fat pigs who died in embarrassing ways. She couldn’t bear it if that was how he remembered her.

Caroline squatted in her stall and forced herself to defecate. It hurt to do, but it was better than the alternative.
“Uungnh” she grunted as she squeezed out a shit through her raw anal sphincter.

Monica was chained up in the stall beside her.
“You think we’ll live long enough to see who gets pardoned?” Monica posed the question to Caroline as she squatted her ass over the hole in the floor.

“Only one way to find out isn’t there. Unnngh” returned Caroline’s voice from the other side of the divider.

“I guess..” said Monica as she farted wetly as she began to poop into the shallow basin. “.. Do you wonder what dying is like? Like is it going to hurt, or is there an afterlife?”

“Of course it’s gonna hurt. You think a blade through your neck is gonna feel good? It’s gonna be pain, then darkness, then nothingness for all eternity” replied Caroline, sounding almost irritated by the concept.

Monica continued evacuating her bowels, acutely aware of every fart, and wet plop sound she made.

“I really hope I get that pardon.. I don't think I want to get my head chopped off.” she admitted, dropping her last turd into the water at the bottom.

“Me neither” Caroline said, enjoying the soothing feel of the automatic spray of warm water in her butt crack.

“OK pigs, time to shower off, and get you all popped” came the call of the butcher.

It was time to die.

Snap went the blade on yet another meatgirl in line at the guillotine. Monica held back the urge to vomit as blood spurted from her neck stump

“Holy fuck, she’s dead” cried Monica incredulously. “She looks like one of the roasts I buy for Sundays at the supermarket

“She is one of the Sunday roasts you buy. You’re going to be one too, you know” corrected Caroline, while she looked at a nearby group of meatgirls who were frying on electric chairs. They smelled delicious.
“At least it's a quick way to die.”

The female butcher who had drawn the lottery reset the blade, and pushed the asian girl from the front of their chained group into it.
“Please, just wait… I’m sure I was the one pardoned.. please check again…” her cries for clemency were cut off at the same time as her head. Her petite tits jiggled as her body was hauled into the air.

“Head in the stocks” the former soldier with the fiery orange hair was ordered. The girl silently steeĺd herself for her fate, maintaining her military discipline till the end, despite the tears rolling from her eyes.

Snap! Her head rolled into the metal bucket, her lips wide, trying to suck air without lungs. She landed next to the asian girl’s crosseyed head.

Monica looked down at them, and realised her own head was next in line to join them.

“Oh, My god, no” she cried.

“Step up, Pig, it’s your turn” ordered the butcher.

Monica gave Caroline a last frightened look, then lowered her head obediently into the stocks. The smell of blood was strong. The girl with blue braids snapped the stocks shut and slid a metal bolt through. Monica presumed it was to lock the device shut.

Then a metal hook was shoved up her anus, and manacles clamped around her limbs so that her body could be lifted after she died..

She braced herself. It seemed that the pardon wouldn’t be for her after all. All that hope had been false. It would have been better if she’d never had any at all. Then she could have just spent her remaining time properly preparing herself for death. Now she was just scared, and unprepared.

“Ready to die piggy” asked the lady butcher.
Monica wasn’t ready at all.

“Please don’t do this” she blubbered “ I don’t want to die.

She squeezed her tear filled eyes shut and gritted her teeth, waiting for the end.

The woman in blue threw the lever on the guillotine, and Monica heard the shrill of the metal blade falling towards her neck.

She felt herself piss in fear at the last moment.

Monica didn’t understand. Why didn’t she feel the blade on the back of her neck? Was she dead already? There hadn’t been any pain like Caroline had promised she’d feel.

The redhead cracked her eyes open. She was still where she was before, head still attached to her neck. What was that loud cracking sound then, if not a blade slicing through her spinal column?

She looked up confusedly. The blade that had wedged in place just prior to severing her neck. Was it some kind of accident? She looked again at the bolt that the worker girl had inserted into the guillotine… There was some writing next to it. - ‘Safety Lock’

Confetti drifted down around her from where it had been launched from party favours, and a large banner unfurled above her.

Elation filled her heart. Had she been the meatgirl picked to get pardoned? She had given up hope when the blade had been triggered. That was it… she was the Thanksgiving Turkey Pardon Draw winner! Monica simply couldn’t believe it. It was more than she could ever have hoped. It was her. It was her! It was her!!!

The entire crew of floor personnel started clapping loudly in joyous celebration of her sparing.
Not everyone was congratulating Monica, the line of Meatgirls behind her all looked downtrodden, Caroline most of all. Monica’s survival meant that all hope of their own survival had just gone out the window. There could only be one draw winner, and now they all knew it wasn’t them.

Caroline’s depression was palpable.

Rough hands yanked Monica out of the Guillotine by her hair. The worker grasped her arm and pulled her stunned form to her feet. It was all so overwhelming for her. Her feelings were going haywire, she didn’t know what to think about all this sudden change of fate.

“Congratulations Meatgirl. Welcome back to being a regular woman again.” He said as he shook her hand congenially.

“Um, thanks.” she stuttered, not really knowing how to process all the conflicting stimuli going on around her.

“Right this way - there’s a news crew waiting to interview you for tonight’s program. They want to get the tale of grace fresh from the source.

“Um, Ok, I guess” Monica was dazed by it all. Her mind couldn’t cope with this straight after a near-death experience.

Caroline was grabbed by the female employee and shoved to her knees.
“Stop dawdling sow, just cause that one escaped the executioner's blade doesn’t mean you get a delay in your snuffing.” she sneered.

“Oh, shit” was all Caroline could muster. She’d secretly been holding out for her own number to get the pardon. The stocks clamped around her neck, and she knew deep down that she was done for. Why had they given her hope at all? It was worse than having none in the first place.

The staff member led Monica over to a cameraman and a blonde reporter in a clean white powersuit.

“Hi, I’m Meredith Viera, and I’m reporting from Riraito’s Fine Meats in Dolcett county, where today's Thanksgiving Turkey Pardon has just occurred. I’m here with lucky Meatgirl 8008298763, whose number was just picked out of a thousand other girls. Tell me, how do you feel about receiving your presidential pardon today? It must have been a very exciting day for you.

“Um, Yes, I don’t know what to say… It’s been very exciting… too exciting in fact… I’m just so relieved that my head didn’t get chopped off. I wasn’t looking forward to that at all. God, I think I pissed myself.” Monica blurted out, unable to slow herself down because of the adrenaline running through her veins.

Caroline looked down into the faces of the dead girls who’d gone before her while they slid a metal hook into her asshole. She’d imagined moments ago that she’d be sharing the bucket with Monica’s head, which had given her some slim comfort. Instead she was staring down at the dumb looking faces of complete strangers.

It was a miserable way to die, alone, with her friend spirited away to live another day. She wished she could take solace in the fact that Monica had survived, but she really didn’t feel that way, staring at the collection of heads with horrified expressions on their faces. They all made it look like it really hurt to have your head cut off.

“Off you pop, sow” the cute attendant with the glasses said as she pulled the lever. The guillotine blade fell down the rails and Caroline felt it sever her vertebrae painfully. Then all feelings in her body disappeared, and she only felt a horrid burning sensation at her throat. The bucket full of heads flew at her face, and she bounced off the decapitated asian’s face.

Blood spurted from Caroline’s neck stump, and her dead carcass squirted a quick stream of piss by itself. Her eyes rolled around in her decapitated head, still trying to see what was happening to her body. She could see Monica still getting interviewed by the press. She never even turned to watch Caroline’s execution. What a bitch!

Caroline’s vision dimmed as the last of her blood drained from it. Another meatgirl’s squealing head was snipped from its owner's body, and landed next to Caroline’s head as she died.

The interview with the news channel finished quickly, but by the time Monica turned back to look at Caroline, her head was already in the bucket, and her eyes were glazing over. Her tight, fit, headless body was being raised to the rafters by the automatic hoist. She’d missed her friend’s snuffing. She’d been so ecstatic that she’d never even thought to look in Carloline’s direction once. She was a terrible friend.

“...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.

Monica walked the three blocks to her house. Some of her neighbours were getting a good peak at her through their windows. Surely she’d be the gossip of the neighbourhood for weeks after this. She felt humiliated, shamed in her nudity in a way that she had never felt before. The brand marked her as meat, but that’s not what she was.

She strode up the pathway to her home in the fading late afternoon sunlight. Here she could rest away from the prying eyes of the world, and just relax while she processed all that had happened to her during the day.

She grabbed the spare key from under the tree near the front door and let herself in.
Kevin was going to be very surprised to see her. She couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he heard the good news.

She walked into her bedroom and caught sight of Kevin fucking the neighbours girl, Tracey doggystyle on her good bedsheets.

“Oh, My Kevin - you didn’t waste any time moving on did you?” she gasped.
Kevin looked like he’d seen a ghost.
“Monica? But you got processed? I took you down myself… I’ve got the order for your body for tonight’s meal.” He reached over to his phone to check. “Cancelled? What’s going on? This doesn’t make any sense.” he muttered, incredulously

“Mrs Smith, I didn’t mean to…It’s just that Kevin said you got processed today, and he was so sad… I just wanted to cheer him up… I can go if you want,”

“Oh, no, stay dear… That’s fine, I knew he had a thing for you.… You two finish up here, and Then you can come meet me in the living room where I can explain the whole mess”

Monica left the room. She didn’t want to watch her husband banging a girl half his age. It made her feel old. She waited by the library shelf for them to finish banging. It didn’t take them very long.

Monica handed Kevin her exemption papers, and explained the whole Thanksgiving Turkey Pardon thing to him. It was hard for him to accept at first, but eventually he softened, and welcomed her back home.

Monica’s daughters, Penny and Karin were ecstatic that their mother was still alive.

“Oh, thank god you’re back mom… I don’t know what we’d do without you. Dad was gonna get Tracey to cook your roast… and Tracey is the worst senior in my home ec class. She’s burned every girlroast she’s ever tried to make.” Said Karin, grabbing a hold of Monica's forearm and bringing her close for a hug.

“Ha, we don’t even have a roast anymore - mom was supposed to be tonight’s dinner. We’ll have to get a new one from the supermarket… There’s only like an hour left before they close.” Penny said

Monica looked at the clock on the mantlepiece. It was true. She had just enough time to put on some clothes, pop on down to the shops and grab a replacement if she was fast though.

“Right girls, I’m on it. I’ll get an extra big meatgirl - enough to feed… Tracey dear, are you staying for dinner? Of course you are… ok enough to feed five people.”

Monica raced off, her mind wondering what was going to happen with Tracey now that she was unexpectedly back in the picture. It was common for Men in Dolcett society to take many wives… though they were usually one after another. Kevin had had five wives before he’d married Monica. He’d never kept any mistresses like a lot of men did though. That probably meant that he only had a need for one of them going forward. The thought smouldered in the back of Monica’s mind like a thunderstorm.

Monica arrived at the supermarket with a half hour to spare. She beelined immediately for the frozen headless roasts. When she got there, she paused. She’d been just moments away from becoming one of these very roasts. If circumstances had been different, it would have been her body frozen and hanging upside down.

She ambled along the freezer section looking at the dead carcasses inside until she came across one that made her freeze in her own tracks. That tanline, those sculpted abs, those tiny perky titties, and that distinctively shaped pink pussy. It could only belong to Caroline.

Usually Monica would opt for an A grade girl for her Thanksgiving roasts. Caroline was a bit leaner than the kind of sow she usually got for the family, and the girl’s tits were smaller than what Kevin liked in a roast, but her fillet would more than make up for that.

Monica couldn’t resist picking her friend from the crowd of frozen cadavers. Her meat might not be perfect, but Caroline would make for a great story to tell around the table, and there was one thing that Monica knew about cooking was that food was as much about the stories told about it, as it was the preparation, cooking and presentation.

This would be the best story she ever got to tell at Thanksgiving for sure. She had the supermarket’s butchers thaw her out using the industrial microwave, and load Caroline into her car. Monica drove off with her prize in the family car.

Less than ten minutes later, she was in the kitchen at home stuffing Caroline’s pussy with cranberry stuffing. Her slick pink lips accepted Monica’s entire fist full of breading with a moist pop. Soon her rock hard belly was so full of stuffing that her corpse looked pregnant. It was Kevin’s mother’s own recipe, handed down to Monica when she married him.

Monica tied up Caroline’s legs in the fashion of a trussed turkey and moved her across into the preheated oven. She set the kitchen timer for two hours, and then set about fixing all the family’s favourite side dishes.

Ding, the oven timer went off
Monica removed Caroline’s perfectly golden-brown roast from the oven. She smelled simply divine.

The galley tray was nearby, so Monica trundled it over and rolled the meat across to it. She pushed it out to the dinner table and prepared it on a display anal stake. She slit her friend’s bulging belly, letting the cranberry stuffing spill out appealingly.

“Dinner’s ready, COME AND GET IT!” she yelled, and her hungry family came out to devour their feast.

They set the table and helped bring out the sides that Monica had made from the kitchen. They all sat down at the living room table, and said grace, even Tracey. Kevin had all his trophies out for the holiday. His mother, sister, aunt and ex wives all looked over the meal from their places as heads on glossy wooden plaques. The family taxidermist did such good work. They almost looked like they were still alive.

To think that if things had gone as planned today, her own head would already be mounted up there on that wall. Just another one of the Smith family trophies.

As Monica started to carve Caroline, she saw Tracey reach down and start to give her husband a handy under the tablecloth. Monica frowned a little. She’d have to teach this upstart slut about dinner etiquette. Her lack of discipline was upsetting her already.

Monica heaped slices of Caroline high on their plates, and by the time they were picking the last of the meat off her ribs, they were all stuffed full.

Monica lay awake at night. She couldn’t get to sleep, and it wasn’t just her overthinking the day’s events.
They’d watched Caroline’s snuff video together as a family after dinner for some entertainment, then Kevin had chosen to take Tracey to his bed that night, leaving Monica to sleep in the guest bedroom.
She’d spent every night for the past twenty years in their shared bedroom, now she was relegated to the guest bedroom so that Kevin could fuck his new toy sensless. Monica felt a twinge of extreme jealousy that she didn’t know she had in her.

It was common enough for a man to take mistresses… but it was the understood rule that the wife got priority in everything. Mistresses were expected to take second fiddle to the primary wife. Monica was beginning to dislike Tracey, the little upstart. It hadn’t taken her long after Monica had supposedly died to swoop in and grab the affections of her man.

She’d thought things would be the same when she arrived back home, but now Monica saw that
she’d have to come up with some kind of solution to the ‘Tracy’ problem.

Monica leaned over, and picked up one of the pamphlets that she’d snagged from the information desk on the way out. She didn’t know why she’d grabbed it at the time, but now it was the perfect thing for trying to get to sleep.

She picked it up and looked at the pictures of the smiling girls getting spitted for a Luau on a Hawaiian beach. She imagined Tracey, and herself were the girls rotating on the spitting poles, and she reached down and used her fingertips to start rubbing her clit.

In the other room, a loud rhythmic pounding sound could be heard, as Kevin fucked Tracey up against the bedroom dividing wall. The young whore moaned like a professional snuffslave.

Every one of that husband stealing whore’s moans reminded her of the screams and squeals in the meat plant. Every room shaking thrust from her husband and his new fuckslut brought Monica closer to climax.

As Kevin brought Tracey to an ear shattering multi orgasm, he also unwittingly made his wife cum in the next room over. In her mind, Tracey and her were dying over the hot coals, spasming and cumming as they expired. The fantasy was so strong given the recent events that she gave herself into it entirely.

Monica collapsed in a sweaty, sticky mess, already getting drowsy. Just before she drifted off to sleep, the best idea she’d ever had hit her.

Monica now knew exactly how she was going to solve her problem. Kevin would need to make space on the Living room wall for a new trophy.

You too can volunteer today!

>>46286
Riraito, any reason you have posted the censored version of this story here?

>>42089

I beg your pardon, but I'd like to second Anonymous' question from post >>42078.
> ... may I ask why you draw rib cages like that?
My first impression was anorexia too. Get me (us) right. There's no complain about your way to draw. That's totally up to you ‒ you're the artist. It's just out of curiosity to know if there is a (special) reason that you draw so prominent ribcages and ‒ if yes ‒ why.

Beside this I'd like to express my appreciation of your great variation of subject matters in your stories.

Renya Sutton was hard at work, studying for her midterm exams. She had to ace her modern Dolcett history elective, or her scholarship might be at risk.

She’d gotten super lucky, her Meatgirl ID had gotten called up on her first week at university, but because she had a scholarship at Dolcett University, she’d gotten an exemption from processing. If it had been a week earlier, she’d already be decorating the inside of someone’s toilet bowl.

Renya sighed as she went over the lines about the food crises that precipitated the initial Dolcett proposals in congress for the third time that night. Her dumpy roommate, Kesha, was already tucked away in her bunk bed for the night. Renya didn’t like bunking with her. She was a snide, argumentative bitch, who always had to be right, even though she was always wrong about everything.

Renya wondered if it was about time to hit the hay herself. It was getting late. It was almost curfew time at the dorms. She didn’t want to get in trouble with the dorm manager again. That woman scared her.

There was a rapping at Renya’s doorframe that roused Kesha.
“What the fuck… who’s knocking at this hour?” she complained, before raising herself up and looking at the door. “Oh’ it's one of your freak friends Renya..” she bitched, before crashing back down into her pillow.


“Hey baby girl, you studying hard like a nerd, still?” asked a familiar voice, that Renya recognised as her bestie Shannon.

“Yeah just getting in some history books… What are you doing over here so late? Aren’t you worried about breaking curfew?” Renya replied.

“Nah girl, I’m gonna be breaking curfew tonight” she teased sultry, taking a swig of the beer in her hand.”

Renya’s brain stopped functioning properly. Shannon’s response didn’t make any sense at all. Was she suicidal or something?

“Are you crazy, you know they’ll expel you for breaking curfew right? Do you really want to end up getting processed as meat?” Renya exclaimed loudly, eliciting a semi-snore from her green haired roommate.

“Oh, honey, we won’t get caught… and you’re coming with us.” Shannon said, as if she knew some secret she wasn’t sharing.

“Why would I do something insane like that? You can gl get yourself converted into girlmeat, I’ll be tucking in for the night,” retorted Renya as she readjusted her glasses. She wanted no part in Shannon’s madness.

“Oh sweet summer child,” Shannon condescended playfully. “You know how Hana’s new boyfriend Tatsumi is the drummer in a band right?”

Renya looked at the Japanese exchange university student and her dark skinned hafu boyfriend, kissing in the hall behind Shannon.

“That tanned okinawan she’s banging? Yeah, she won’t shut up about his thick cock, she’s been making me jealous. I don’t have the time for dates with my study schedule.”

“Well, what she neglected to tell us was which band he plays for.”

Renya’s genius brain ran through all the options that might make ignoring a curfew appaling, before landing on the only one that made any sense to her.

“Omigod, No way you’re not telling me he’s THE Tatsumi Hori of Death Abyss?

“The one and the same Renya babe… and he’s just gifted us all VIP tickets to tonight's show. Backstage passes, and we’re all invited to party privately with his bandmates after the
performance.

Death Abyss was Renya’s favourite death metal band of all time. She’d tried to get tickets to this concert, but they'd all sold out like ten minutes after they were released.

“No way, you’re fucking with me, right?”

“I’m as serious as a stomach wound babe… are you coming or what? Shannon asked “we gotta get moving before the dorm manager makes her ‘lights out’ rounds.

This was the opportunity of a lifetime… There was no chance Renya would skip out on something like this. The juice was worth the squeeze.

“Just gimme a minute” Renya leapt to her cupboard, peeling her hoodie and miniskirt off and exchanging it for her best black goth dress.
She puckered her lips and smacked blueblack lipstick over them, quickly did her eyeshadow, and mascara, and ran hair colour fudge through her bangs. Renya looked at the results happily, then whirled around to strike a pose for Shannon’s approval.

“How do I look?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Phenominal as usual Renya, I don’t know how you do it? It takes me ages to get ready, and you look twice as good with something you’ve just thrown on. Is there anything you aren’t perect at?”

“Oh, shut up Shannon” she laughed.

Kesha rolled over in bed blearily. ”Renya, shuut uupp! I’ve got training early tomorrow… I need to sleep.”

“Oh, ‘Can it’, you dumb, fat, virgin. You wouldn’t know a good time if it spit you up the asshole.” Renya spat back at her troublesome roommate.

“Are you ready for the best night ever? Baby girl?” Shannon said, stoked for the main event.

“Am I ever!” Replied Renya enthusiastically.

The Death Abyss performance was so loud, Renya thought her eardrums were gonna burst. They played all their greatest hits, from ballad for a Meatgirl, to Killing you with a hatchet.

She knew all the lyrics by heart, and was belting them out as she danced in the mosh pit beside Shannon and Hana. It was hot, sweaty and dimly lit, with gyrating bodies bouncing against each other in the tight confines of the venue.

It was everything she had wanted from a live Death Abyss concert. Indoor fireworks, lasers, half naked, and leather clad fans, and the band absolutely shredding the solos.

The audience thrummed in time with the beat, and Renya lost herself in the moment. It was as if the lead singer was belting out the songs just for her alone.

After the third encore of their latest hit song, ‘Death of a good girl’ the show was over, and the crowds began to shuffle out of the hall.

Shannon grabbed Renya and Hanna and dragged them forcefully backstage. They waved their VIP passes to the security and he waved them through with an eyeroll. “Groupies.” He muttered.

Tatsumi introduced Renya, and Shannon to his bandmates.
“This is Jason, and this is Rodriguez,” he said, and they all gave introductory hugs. Renya was beside herself as the lead singer of her favourite band embraced her. It was like a dream come true.

“We’re about to head back to the hotel to continue drinks… and some other things… you girls wanna join us?” Jason asked flirtingly. Renya’s heart skipped a beat. Was the lead singer of Death Abyss asking her to go back to his hotel for drinks?

“Yes, all my yes!” she squeaked out like she was once again a nervous high school girl getting asked on a first date. He smiled at her raw girlish enthusiasm.

They were whisked away by a limousine with a stocked bar, that the sextet drank with gusto
She’d never drank before, but she didn’t want to seem like a rube. Renya picked a beer from the car's mini fridge and sipped from it gingerly, but by the time they’d reached the hotel, she’d already finished 3 of them and was beginning to feel pretty tipsy.

They made a loud ruckus entering the foyer of the hotel. The staff looked a little perturbed by the way the entourage behaved drunkenly as they made their way to the private penthouse elevator. Some of the staff whispered to each other in a snooty manner. Renya didn’t pay them any heed, she was too busy staring starstruck at Jason, who stared back at her hungrily. He was like a wolf to her.

He hung onto her shoulders as the elevator ascended. Tatsumi was busy passionately kissing his girlfriend Hana in the corner, and Shannon was letting Rodriguez feel up her buttocks through her satin black dress. Renya gasped as she felt Jason trace his hands cup her boobs gently. Her nipples hardened as his fingers played with them through the thin,dark material. Like most girls her age, she had never had a boyfriend before. Men were just too rare a commodity for every girl to have one. He grabbed her by the hips, and Renya felt her cunt moisten in response. She wanted him badly.

The elevator dinged as it arrived on the top floor of the hotel. The penthouse suite took up the entire floor and was surrounded by silvered windows that let them see the entire cityview, without letting them see back in, or at least she hoped. Renya didn’t want to see her photo snapped by the paparazzi in some trashy women’s gossip magazine the next day. That would be embarrassing, and might even get her midnight curfew breaking caught by the dorm manager. She didn’t feel like getting expelled from the university was worth a single night of bliss… maybe?

Jason did his best to dissuade her of that thought, his hands wandering down her belly towards her crotch. She wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.
“Be a good boy and fetch us girls something to drink, will you?” She breathed, desperately trying not to let out a moan.
“Sure thing, I’ll be right back - A Dead Girl Ale fine by you?” He asked as his lips pulled away from hers, where they had been on the verge of touching.

“Yeah,. That’d be great Jason. I think we could… all use… some more… refreshments” she blushed obviously, letting him know that his ministrations were having his desired effect. There wasn’t a chance in hell he wasn’t getting her panties off tonight. Renya had never fucked a boy before. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested in it, she’d just never really had the opportunity to. There weren't a lot of boys around her age when she was growing up, and she’d gone to an all girls school on top of that. So Renya was kind of awkward around them.

Jason wandered off to hit up the minifridge in the kitchenette. Hana, and Shannon were already in the jacuzzi, naked, and canoodling with their new beaus. They splashed in the warm water as they groped needily at each other. Renya slipped off her own dress delicately and then stepped down into the foaming water naked. She sat back, spreading her arms out in the bubbling tub so that her small breasts could be seen, and waited for Jason to return with her drink. She didn’t have to wait long. He returned with an armfull of frosty cold beers, some pills and a big baggie full of weed. He smiled when he saw her naked body. She smiled back.

A frost beer in a warm bath was just the best combination. His arm wrapped around her back as he leaned in for a kiss. Renya felt a little self conscious about her braces. She didn’t like having to wear them, and what if he didn’t like them? It didn’t seem to bother him, though. His lips pressed against hers firmly and his tongue slipped into her mouth. She was a little surprised by that. She hadn’t expected he’d be quite so forward so quickly. He followed the kiss by a quick swig of his drink. Renya followed suit, meekly.

“I think it's time to get out now. I’m getting all pruny” said Hana to Tatsumi, as she stood up out of the hot tub, dripping water from her short busty frame. She wiggled her ass for Tatsumi fawnishly as she dried off.

Shannon took it as a sign to get out similarly, spreading her legs as she stepped over him, so he could get a close look at her fuzzy muff.

Renya wanted to soak in the warm embrace of the hot tub forever, but Jason took her by the hand and guided her out of the roiling water.
He wrapped a large fluffy hotel towel around the both of them and pressed closely into her. She could feel his erection pressing against the dripping folds of her pussy.

“Time to get that head of yours nicely fucked up Renya. Have you ever done drugs before?” He asked her, offering to share the experience with her. Renya just shook her head to say she hadn't. Jason looked expectantly into her puppy dog eyes and said “open up”
Renya did as she was told and opened her mouth for him. He placed a single tablet on the middle of her tongue, and she swallowed it.

It took a minute for it to kick in. She felt her heart hammer in her chest, blood flowing to her pussy. It was like she was electrified. Her pussy was simply gushing. She;d never wanted to fuck more in her entire life.
“What was that you gave me Jason?” she asked curiously.
“Oh, just a little aphrodisiac and fertility drug, really gets the heart pumping doesn’t it.” he replied.
“It’s aa liittle inteense.” Renya said, slurring her words and, taking in a last mouthful of beer to keep her composure, She wanted to jump his bones immediately. The beer was going right to her head.
“That’s why we got this, to take the edge off a little” Jason said sagely, waving his baggie of Marijuana. He stepped over to the table and began to expertly roll some blunts to share around.

Shannon reached in and lit up a doobie, taking a practiced puff of it before handing it off to Renya. She puffed in the hot smoke and choked on it as she tried to inhale. She wasn’t very good at it, and came away spluttering. Jason laughed a little at her efforts, before he took it off her and smoked it himself.

Renya was beginning to feel a bit more relaxed already. It felt good. It was like all her troubles had melted away. Her midterm exams were the furthest thing from her mind at that moment. All she could think about were Jason’s muscular arms, and toned abs, and his deep, deep eyes.

Tatsumi was already fondling Hana’s breasts. The two of them already had experience with their intimacy, being boyfriend and girlfriend. Shannon was making her moves on Rodriguez. She had a blunt in her mouth, and was spreading her legs for him seductively, drawing him closer to her.

Renya took another puff at the blunt, this time managing to properly imbibe the smoke without racking her lungs up. She passed the joint back to Jason, and he pushed her down to the couch forcefully, lavishing kisses upon her as his rock hard cock rested atop her engorged clit.

“Oh, goood, youu’re moooving soo fasst.” She said, barely able to repress her desire to moan.
“Please .. Slooow down..” she cried, as he slipped his cock between her pussy lips and surged into her.

And like that, Renya found herself a slave to his thrusting meatrod. Every pump of him into her pussy made the pleasure she felt increase.until at last he made white hot lights explode in the back of her mind.

“Ah, Fuck, yes… Harder Jason… HARDER!... Put a baby in me!” Renya begged at the top of her voice.

Shannon and Hanna also made slutty moans as they were railed by their boys.

As her pink hole clamped tight around his dick, it spasmed and he shot his load up into her.
“Get pregnant groupie slut”. He exclaimed. She felt the jizz drip in thick strands from her snatch.

Renya came on his spurting cock.
“Oh, yeess, fill me up!” She squealed happily, “Put babies in my belly, you stud!”

“Ah, fuck you were a tight little virgin hole to inseminate…” groaned Jason as he pulled out of Renya. “I’d do that again!”
“Hana, you did good selecting this one for me” he shouted to Renya’s friend.

Just coming into her post orgasmic clarity, she saw Hana and Shannon were getting fucked sensless on the couch beside her. Renya decided that while the post-coital bliss was nice, what she really needed was more cock.


Renya smiled coyly, and bent forwards to give him a better view of her cum filled cunt.
“How about right now?.. Are you ready for some sloppy seconds big boy?” She said alluringly.

She didn’t have to ask twice, he was so enarmoured by her body, that he dove straight back into that wet, sticky hole of hers.

He felt so good inside her.

The next morning didn’t feel so good. Renya woke up with a massive hangover, and a sore vagina filled with fresh semen. The sun was just beginning to peek up over the horizon.

Jason was still awake and in the middle of having his way with her sleeping body.
“Stop it, I’m tired” Renya said groggily.
She complained a little at his thrusting, but he was close to cumming, so he just held her down till finished inside of her, using Renya as his personal cum dumpster.
“Ah, ah… unnng’ stop, you’re too big… you’re hurting me… oh, oh ,.. oooooh” she grunted as he raped her to a unwilling orgasm.

As it turned out, cumming from being raped while she was half asleep still felt pretty good.

“Morning babe.. you were a great lay last night… we should do it again sometime.”

“Sure… what’s your number?”

“My publicist will get in contact with you… don’t call me, I’ll call you…” he said absentmindedly, as if this was something he’d said enough times it had become routine.
Renya wondered if he had any intention at all of calling her, or if he was just brushing her off.

He kissed her on the lips delicately, as if he’d heard her thoughts and wanted to assuage her.
“My wife’s been getting bored back at the mansion without me, and I have a few places for some more mistresses open in my harem. after the last meat lottery call I lost a couple of my favourites. If you keep me interested, you might just earn a place.

It wasn’t exactly the most romantic overture she would have expected, like in her favourite harem romance novels, but she’d be a fool to turn down the opportunity to be a minor harem mistress to a rock star.

“I’d love that” she said with more genuineness than she actually felt in the moment

“Great. Now collect your things, and see yourself out. I'm done with you for today.” He said, as he rolled back over to continue sleeping in.

Hana and Shannon were both receiving the same treatment. Shannon was failing to hide her disappointment, though she was trying hard. Hana seemed to be taking getting kicked out of the penthouse by her boyfriend rather well. Renya guessed this had become a regular thing for her. She kissed Tatsumi on the cheek and rose to leave.
“Bye babe, see you at the show again tonight?” Hana looked like she had him in the palm of hef hand.

Renya started looking for her dress. She found her shoes, and corset, but couldn't find her panties or dress. She felt really seedy. That aphrodisiac was beginning to wear off, and she was starting to realise that in addition to making her horny, it had also made her a bit dumber. She didn’t mind that much.. but maybe she’d feel different later.

“Stop looking for your dress… the boys made Shannon throw all of them in the trash incinerator after you passed out while getting fucked. Its something they do to all the groupies they fuck. They call it the walk of shame.” Hana said as if it were normal… it probably was for her now.

Renya felt embarrassed. Was she really going to have to return to her dorm room naked apart from her boots?

Shannon looked away, slightly ashamed at what she had done for the boys the night before. It looked like all three of them were going to be making the walk of shame all the way back to their dormrooms.

The long elevator ride down was in perfect silence. None of them felt comfortable saying anything. Being naked in public wasn’t exactly unusual, but it was mostly on Feast Day, or if you were a Meatgirl. So it still felt awkward to Renya, being naked in public, despite there being no laws against it.

As they walked away from the hotel, they caught the stares of the hotel staff. It seemed clear that they all knew Renya and her girlfriends were slutty groupies that had fucked the bandmembers last night. The boy-cum still dripping from Renya’s exposed pussy would leave them in no doubt.

As they walked out the hotel’s front doors, and out onto the street, they got a few odd looks from pedestrians. Most, though, minded their own business. In fact, as they continued down the street, Renya realised that they were actively looking away from the trio of naked women.

She guessed they all thought they were meatgirls on their way to the plant after their last fuck. Renya would probably avert her gaze too, if she saw a meatgirl on the street… seeing them was always a sore reminder that most girls' lives ended at the hands of a butcher.

Somewhere high above them, hidden behind silvered windows, the boys from the band were probably looking down on them, enjoying the show. Renya felt humiliated at having to parade herself for their small entertainment.

At least when they all got back to the dorms, she could crash in her bunk. She didn’t have any lectures that day, so she could get some shuteye before picking the books back up. She hoped Jason would call, or at least his publicist. Despite the mean way he was treating her, she was already starting to miss riding his big cock.

Thankfully, the dorms were within walking distance from this part of town, so they didn’t have to catch public transport back.

They arrived, haggard back at the dorms, exhausted from a full night of partying, substance taking, and fucking. Renya just wanted a quick shower, then she’d slip back into her hoodie and collapse into her bed.

Instead, she was greeted by her roomie; Kesha, her dorm manager, and two uniformed Dolcett County meat inspectors waiting outside her dorm room for her.
“Shit” she uttered, not really believing her eyes.

“There she is” Kesha called out, pointing to Renya, Shanon and Hana from the other end of the hall. “I told you that bitch was breaking curfew”

The dorm manager crossed her arms over her ample bosom. There was only one punishment for curfew skipping: expulsion… and because Renya was on scholarship, and Shannon and Hana had other study exemptions from processing dates… that meant all three of them had just become meat.

There was no chance to explain themselves, or to plead for mercy. One look at the hungover naked girls, their cooches still wet with cum told the meat inspectors all they needed to know.
The closest inspector yanked her hands behind her back and the cuffs snapped firmly onto Renya’s wrists.

None of the girls bothered to resist as they were frogmarched to a waiting meatwagon. They all knew there was nothing they could say to save themselves. They had sealed their own fates the minute they’d decided to break curfew to see the Death Abyss performance.

The sun had barely broken the city skyline by the time they arrived at the local Dolcettburger restaurant.

Renya had thought that she would be taken to a meatplant. Fast food restaurants weren’t picky about their meat. She’d figured a body like hers would get a good meatgrade… Places like this didn’t even bother grading girls half the time.

God, she’d been such an idiot. She should have known Kesha would rat her out. Now she was gonna be someone’s breakfast burrito, or some other cheap fried, greasy meal.

Her parents had taken her to Dolcettburger often when she was a kid. It was always a special treat. She’d loved reading the little paper placemat biographies that came with every meal. She liked to know whose burgermeat she’d been eating, or the names of the kids who constituted her Kids nuggets.

Now she was gonna join them all. Just an order of Renya with fries and a large soda. Before the day was out, some hungry businesswoman would be dabbing bits of Renya’ gravy off her lips with her paper biography and pre-snuff photo.

Tears ran down Renya’s cheeks as they passed through clear plastic air dividing strips, and into the back of the Dolcettburger kitchen.

A spotty teenage girl, clearly working her first job was there to take possession of the consignment.

“Oh good, just in time for the breakfast rush” she squeaked. “I’ll sign for them, and get them prepped for the deep fryers.

Renya gulped, looking past the Dolcettburger girl at the row of dead girls already boiling in the scalding oil. It wasn’t how she wanted to go at all. Who wanted to be junk food?

Shannon squawked loudly upon hearing their fate. Her trademark swagger had entirely fled her now.

Hana just sobbed uncontrollable, a bit of snot running from her nose.

“Hi, I’m Sapphie, and I’ll be cooking you today, sows.” she introduced herself.
The Dolcettburger girl might have looked young for a butcher, but she was good at her job. Renya didn’t even notice as she was hooked to the ceiling rails until the mechanical lift pulled her up into the air. Her friends followed. Their boots and pantyhose were stripped off, and thrown into a waiting incinerator bin.

The teenager sprayed cold, hard water from a hose onto all of them. She scrubbed them all hard, wiping away all the makeup, sweat, grime and cum from the night before.
“All clean now, cows.” Sapphie piped up.
Renya shivered as water dripped from her tiny titties and legs.

The Dolcettburger girl pulled out a cutthroat razor and foam and went to work shaving Renya’s snatch till it was smooth and hair free.
“Well, onto the delimber with you snuffettes you’re all gonna be deep fried girlmeat pieces before you know it.. aren’t you sluts lucky?”
The teen worker smiled with braces much like Renya’s own.
Renya didn’t feel lucky at all, she felt like a dehumanised piece of… meat.
The Dolcettburger girl’ hands wrapped around Renya’s hips and guided her down to the conveyerbelt on the delimber to get her hands and feet locked into the restraints.

Snap, on they went. This was real. She could hear the buzzsaws at the other end of the conveyer belt spin up. She wasn’t looking forward to feeling their sharp bite and becoming a fucknugget at the end of the line.

Sapphie pulled the trigger on the end of the cable dangling from the ceiling and the conveyer kicked into gear.

Shannon screamed loudly, and there was a brutal spray of blood. Some got on Renya’s face. The buzzsaw cleaved quickly through Shannon's arms and legs, separating them from her.

“Nooooooooooo!” She screamed loudly.

Her purple haired friend squealed as she waved her new gory stumps around, looking at the absence of her own hands and feet unbelievingly. Shannon made an obscene farting noise as she pissed and crapped herself. Renya noted that unlike a real Meatplant, they hadn’t even taken the meatgirls to the toilets for the purpose of preserving the honour of the victims.

The former honour student didn’t have to wait long to experience being an involuntary amputee herself. She felt the cold brush of air against the fine hairs on her arms and legs first, before the blades spinning at 1000RPM took off her left hand side limbs at the joints. Renya saw the splash of shiraz before she felt the agony. Despite having been prepared for what was about to happen to her, she panicked at the suddenness of the lancing pain.

“Aaaaiiieeeeee” her voice broke as she hit the top of her register.

Then, SLICE, off popped her righthand side forearm and shin, and her brain overloaded with unadulterated suffering. Sometimes when she was alone at home, Renya had wondered how she would fare when her time to get processed into meat inevitably came. She had always thought that she’d take her snuffing with dignity; accepting her role in the food chain with the grace and poise of a good Meatgirl. Instead, she felt warm urine squirt onto her stubby thighs, and she squeezed out a soft brown turd onto the conveyor belt.

Hana watched in mute terror as Renya wiggled like a grub, pissing and shitting herself as she tried to see her own bloody stumps. It was a horrifying sight for her to have to endure. Her friends were wailing right there ahead of her in line. She heard the horrible buzzing as the saw crept towards her. She closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to watch herself as she was turned into a pathetic fucknugget like Renya and Shannon. It happened anyway, despite her not watching the event take place. She felt an ice cold pain in the gap between the bones of her hands and legs, that made her tense and shiver.

The searing feeling could only mean one thing. She knew without even looking that she was now a limbless hunk of meat too. She was trying desperately to be a brave girl, but tears welled through her clenched eyelids. A wet fart and the feeling of squelchy warmth between her buttocks let her know she’d defecated as well. Hana could smell the piss, and heard it tinkle against the conveyer and saw. She’d projected her pee with quite a bit of force.


“Eeew… you’re quite the squirter, you got me from over here” The Dolcetburger girl said as she lifted Shannon’s ass up onto a metal stand with a curved belly holder..

.”Puh.. Puhleese … D-don’t Huurt.. M-me any M-more!” Shannon pleaded. The young woman in the neat Dolcettburger uniform responded not with words, but actions. She plucked a wicked looking tool from the nearby shelf and plugged a clear canister and tube onto it. Sharp metal claws with wicked teeth adorned the front of the device.

She lined it up with Shannon's asshole and plunged the blades deep into the flesh surrounding her sphincter. Upon slicing into her perineum, the device pushed a suction cup into her butt crevice and whirred around like an electric drill. There was a cute little pop - and then Shannon’s anal sphincter got sucked out of her body, with her anus and intestines still attached.

The mess of guts and shit was vacuumed up the tube and into the waiting storage canister. Pump, Pump pump, it sucked out Shanon’s raw pink insides. She continued to piss right up until the moment her bladder got evacuated with the rest of her bowels.
“Uuuuuuuugnnnnh” Shannon groaned uselessly as she was gutted through her ruined asshole.

With the majority of her guts in the cylinder, it popped from the Sphincter Slicing Sucker and hung from the roof mounted shopvac system, which continued to slowly siphon up Shannon’s small intestines and stomach.

“Aw, fuck no” Renya whinged as she saw Shannon’s gutting, and realising her ass was next. She looked as the Slicer was lined up, and could feel the tips of the torture machine pricking the thin skin around her poohole.

“P-please y-you don’t h-have… to.” She stuttered.
Renya’s young butcher plunged the claw into her ass. There was a click and a whirr, and she felt like someone had shoved a red hot poker up her bumhole. The suction cup sealed tight to her pucker, then plucked her poo stained anus from her body.


“Aaaaauuuunnnghhrrrrgh!” The goth student gritted her teeth as she felt her wet innards unspool as they were expelled from between her legs. It felt like she’d just crapped out her guts. In a manner of speaking, she had.

She craned her head to look at her backside, and saw a thin line of slick pink stuff that should remain inside her, coiling into a clear plastic cylinder hanging above her ass. Renya realised that she could see her own asshole, leaking a little turd. She had a dumb thought cross her mind. This was actually the only time she’d ever seen her own anus, outside of looking in a mirror. How strange was that?

Hana cringed at the sound of Renya and Shannon. She didn’t want to look. She didn’t want to look…. SHE DIDN'T WANT TO LOOK.
The young Japanese University student cursed in her native tongue. “Watashi no kōmon o ubawanaide kudasai” she screeched in a tone that was just too high pitched for a lady of her age.

The female Dolcettburger didn’t seem to understand what she was saying, but it wasn’t hard for her to roughly guess… It was some variation of the same thing every meatgirl said when she saw the Sphincter Slicing Sucker at work.
“Oh honey, you weren’t going to be using it anymore anyway.” She said in a soothing voice that belied a casual cruelty that underlied it.

Hana winced as the blades sank into her dainty japanese crap excreter. She felt pain as the precision mechanical parts cooperated to extract a perfect meat cylinder out of her underside. She heard gross wet shlurping sounds as something long and thick bounced against her asscheeks on its way to the capture container.
“Eeeeeeeeeeeee!” she squealed as she wriggled on the spot. She peed herself until something inside of her broke and tore out the ragged hole where her anus used to be, and then even though she continued to squeeze her urethra, nothing would come out anymore. She was empty.

Renya gasped and wheezed on her stand. There was a horrible emptiness where her insides used to be. She couldn’t concentrate on anything other than her own personal plight. What was happening to her friends, Renya no longer had the capacity to care about.

The Dolcettburger girl dumped Renya onto a stainless steel table, and pushed her under a great metal container with a metal iris.


“Time to get you coated pig” Sapphie said as she opened the stainless strel vessel. Flour poured down and over Renya’s naked amputated meat. The meatgirl coughed as the fine powder aerosolised into a flour mist. She was white as a ghost below the neck. It got into all her wounds and stung her. She felt like she really needed to wash them out, or she’d get an infection… but she realised there’d be no time for that to happen anymore.

Already, the girl with the braces was dipping Renya around in a crumbed batter that she’d spread out on the table beside her. It stuck to the skin of her backside like a thin layer of crunchy peanut butter. The worker rolled Renya over and she felt the batter stick to her breasts, belly and pubic mound. She shivered in tiny fear induced spasms. She was afraid of the oil. However bad the pain she had felt till now, she knew that the oil would be worse.

Satisfied with Renya’s coating, The girl spiked a metal restraining tool to her back and bound her arms and legs with sharp hooks pressed through flesh and bone. She had to bend Renya’s legs back further than was possible to naturally go. Renya didn’t think they’d bend that far… she was right. There was a sickening crunch as both thighs were dislocated and the hooks driven in.

“There you go, all ready for your oil baths piggies!” said the girl as she finished her physical labour, and wiped her brow from under her peak cap.

Renya felt fear constrict her throat, making it hard to breathe. She was hyperventilating badly.. she didn’t want to die.

Saphie snapped the metal restraint cylinder onto a set of rail mounted clasps, and the entire assembly sprung up, lifting the three emptied out meatgirls into the air. The Dolcettburger girl pushed them over the preheated deep fryers. Oily steam wafted up from the boiling yellow liquid. Renya could feel the blistering heat below her exposed, shaved crotch.

She moaned wordlessly, unable to conjugate proper human words through her haze of pain. Shannon gibbered nonsensically on one side, and Hana cried her heart out on the other.

“Time to fry, sows.” Sapphie said, taking far too much pleasure in her work for Renya’s approval. She clicked a setting on the fryers, and the bubbling increased, and the restraints lowered their torsos slowly into the boiling oil baths.

Renya’s delicate cunt lips touched the surface first. White light blinded her. It was like being hit in the head with a baseball bat. At first she felt nothing, then numb tingling, then every nerve ending in her vagina was on fire, then burned horribly, leaving Renya the full unvarnished experience of having her pussy dipped in boiling oil. She wanted to throw up, but she no longer had a stomach.

The three meatgirls screamed incessantly, as the yellow fluid crept up their hips, covered their shrivelled, hollow bellies, and splashed over their chests, burning their fair breasts.

Renya's skin reddened angrily, and her breaded coating crisped up. Her tongue flopped loosly from her mouth, and she went crosseyed as she was overwhelmed by the unstoppable pain of being deep fried alive. Her heart jackhammered in her chest, till the oil that had risen up through her torn out anal cavity bathed it. Her heart cooked near instantly and ceased beating. Its last pumps pushed boiling blood up into her brain where it fried her grey matter inside her skull until she was a braindead vegetable.

Renya’s living corpse convulsed in the oil, her higher brain functions having ceased. She’d gone insane from internal brain scarring. Gone was the bright young scholarship student. It took a few more minutes for her to cease any further movement. Her body crisped and turned golden brown under a shell of crispy batter. Renya’s besties were right there beside her, sharing in her hellish fate. They spasmed gently as they all slowly died from their severe oil burns, then they were still forever.

Sapphie removed their meat one by one from the deep fryers when their timers went off. Hana with her smaller frame was the first to finish. The Dolcettburger girl lifted her onto the prep table, lightly salted and seasoned her with the secret herb mix, then set about chopping her into servings with a meat cleaver.

When she was done with Hana’s deep fried corpse, Renya’s alarm went off, Sapphie immediately lifted her golden brown, crumbed body from the bubbling vat and let the excess oil drip back in. Sapphie admired the former smart girl’s pretty face, locked in a tortured dumb expression of fear. She loved that look, getting to see that every day was the reason she hadn’t quit her low paying job yet.

The Dolcettburger girl sliced through Renya’s thighs at the join to her hips, separating the meat’s thigh steaks from her hip portion. Chop, off went Renya’s uncrumbed, redfaced head, stacked neatly next to Hana’s’ ready for disposal in the incinerator.

“Next order’s up… Sapphie, can you take the register?” Called one of her coworkers urgently. She obliged, taking the front desk.

“Hello, welcome to Dolcettburger, how may I take your order sir?” She said politely in a practiced neutral tone to a handsome young man.

“Can I get a quarter fried meatgirl meal please? original recipe?" He said.

“Sure thing sir”, she said cutely, “would you prefer breastmeat, hips or thighs?”

“Oh, definitely a breast… What can I say, I’m a breast guy.” He said, trialing out that tired old dad joke that every middle aged customer had tried on her at least once. But he was cute, and young, and for some reason it made her genuinely laugh.

“Right away sir” she said, returning to Renya’s torso on the table, and thwacked away at her ribcage till she’d cracked it into two pieces, down the middle. Sapphie lined the tray with the personalised biographic story for Renya, and heaped the quarter fried girlmeat ribs and breast onto it. Then she prepared some fresh girlfat fries, and poured a cola from the premix machine.

She brought over the meal for the customer, and presented it to him, but for some reason, she wanted to talk to him for a bit longer.
“It’s a big meal for so early in the morning, you need energy for a big day?” She asked curiously.

“Nah, actually I haven’t been to sleep yet. I was at the Death Abyss concert last night, and the afterparty I went to raged until daybreak.” he sheepishly admitted.

“Aw wow, I wish I could have gone to one of the performances, but the tickets sold out so fast.” She gushed. Sapphie didn’t know why she was telling him that.

“You know, I’m going again, I got a couple of tickets to tonight's show as well. My brother was supposed to go with me, but he had an emergency at work…. Maybe you’d like to go with me?” He enquired, testing the waters.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” She blurted out, unable, or unwilling to hide the grin on her face.

“Yes, I’m asking you out on a date. Will you go out with me to see Death Abyss rock Dolcett County tonight Sapphie?”

“Oh, yes please.” She agreed, giddy with excitement.

“I’ll pick you up at 8:00pm, that’s when you get off your shift right?” he offered.

“Meet you in the parking lot… Oooh, this is gonna be soo fun.” She giggled euphorically.

He took his meal of deep fried Renya back to his table to chow down on as he read the meal information provided with it.

Sapphie went back to cutting out Renya’s pussy fillet, humming a happy tune as she worked. She had a date with a cute boy at a metal concert, and if she played her cards right, she’d be getting laid tonight. She could already hear the wedding bells in her head. Wait, that was Shannon’s cooking timer going off. Sapphie rushed to get the meatgirl out of the deep fryer before she overcooked and got tough.

Her date chewed on one of Renya’s rib bones as he read the part about her history major. He couldn’t believe he had finally asked out the cute Dolcettburger girl and she’d actually said ‘yes’. He was so nervous he couldn’t believe it.