Part 1

“There’s our guest of honour!” Samantha’s dad grinned, finding his daughter stood in the corner of the garden, talking to her sister and sipping from a water bottle – the only refreshment that she was allowed. The naked fourteen year old sighed, having hoped for a few more minutes of respite. “Come and be sociable!” her dad urged. “Everyone wants to meet and congratulate you before…”

“Before they eat me?” she rolled her eyes. Her twelve year old sister Becky giggled and Samantha shot her a harsh look. “Why can’t you just be honest about it? I’m food and I don’t get a choice about it. I might as well be a pig from market. Quit trying to pretend this is my party and I’m getting some great honour!”

“Now, come on!” Her dad sighed, trying to his his irritation. “I though we’d been through this? It’s our family tradition! Has been for more than two hundred years. You really enjoyed eating your cousin last time, don’t you remember?”

“Kinda,” Samantha sipped her water as defiantly as she could manage, “but I was, like, four years old. Let’s face it,” she glared at her dad, “this is an honour for you and mum, so everyone can say what a good job you did raising me to be so delicious and I just end up as other people’s shits!”

“Be that as it may,” her dad replied firmly, “this is happening, young lady, and all these people here have come for a nice party and you’re not going to spoil it. Now for goodness sake, come over and be at least a little sociable!”

“Or what?” She glared.

“Or I might forget to grease the spit!” He raised an eyebrow and folded his arms, daring her to make a comeback but she wisely decided not to argue further. “Okay, are we sorted here?” he asked and Samantha nodded. “Good!” he smiled once more. “So let’s go and say hello. You too!” He smiled at Becky and beckoned her with his hand before putting it on Samantha’s shoulder and guiding her.

Like most of the men at the pool-party, her dad was wearing an open Hawaiian shirt which showed his beer-belly, while most of the women wore bikinis with sarongs as Becky did. Some had gone for one-piece swimsuits instead or wore a light summer dress over their bikinis. The little boys were mostly just in swim shorts and the girls in a variety of colourful swimsuits, many with cartoon characters on. Some people were already in the pool or sat on the edge dabbling their feet but most were standing around with drinks in their hand making small-talk. On the far side of the pool was the long roasting pit with the mounts either side, the coals within already burning down, getting ready to cook.

The house had been in their family for generations and was currently the home of Samantha’s grandparents and every ten years, the whole extended family would get together to enjoy a girl-roast, the different households within the family taking it in turns to provide the meat.

“Here she is!” Uncle Clive grinned, raising his beer bottle in a toast, as the naked fourteen year old approached. Samantha was tall and slim but with a surprisingly luscious rump and nice meaty thighs as well as perky teen boobs that were a decent hand-full. She had her dad’s colouring with pale skin and straight brown hair so dark it was almost black, cut into a short bob for the occasion.

Becky, by contrast, took after their mum and had honey-coloured skin and dirty-blonde hair, long with loose curls and worn that day in a pony-tail. She was thinner than she sister but in a nicely toned way and her boobies, cupped comfortable in her lime green bikini top, were already the size of tennis balls. If the resemblance to her mum continued as she grew up, she knew that they would likely end up far bigger than her sister’s.

Knowing that there was no point in sulking and that at surly attitude would only bring her more problems, Samantha began to circulate and make polite chit-chat with the rest of the family, some of whom she could not remember ever having met before and others she had only seen once or twice since the last such gathering ten years earlier.

Most of the conversation concerned her meat and how much they were all looking forward to tasting it. Many of the distant and no so distant relatives wanted to feel and squeeze various parts of her body, something which Samantha endured with good humour, knowing what was to come. There seemed to be several new additions to the family, including boyfriends and girlfriends of the younger cousins and step-children added through marriage, with more arriving all the time. Glancing over at her mum and dad in the preparation area, she could see them having what looked to be a rather anxious exchange before her dad went to speak to her grandpa, both men frowning and looking thoughtful as they talked. As she watched, her grandpa disappeared into the house and her dad, looking relieved, came back and spoke to her mum who also broke into a relieved smile.

“Time for the entertainment!” Samantha’s mum grinned, walking towards her. The teen sighed inwardly, know what this meant. She looked around at all the men and boys who were looking in her direction, excited for what was about to happen. Some of them were reasonably attractive, she had to admit, but many more of them were fat or old or gross or all of the above! Why couldn’t her family ritual be like others she had read about where the “guest of honour” got to pick one guest to deflower her before the spitting? From what she’d managed to piece together listening to aunts and uncles chattering, their custom had once been like that but about forty years ago, some great-aunt or cousin or whatever she was to Samantha had decided to invite everyone who wanted to have a go, and, quite naturally, this had been enjoyed so much by those in attendance that it had become the norm for her family

“Yay!” She could not resist rolling her eyes despite managing a slight smile to her mum. “Lucky old me, eh?” Her mum, choosing not to respond to the sarcasm in her voice, took her by the shoulders and guided her towards the prep area. Becky followed close behind, claiming it was to offer moral support but Samantha was pretty sure her little sister just wanted a front-row seat to her humiliating ordeal, what really amounted to a gang-rape.

In front of the roasting pit was a wide spitting bench. Instinctively, Samantha went to stand in the middle of it, but to her slight surprise, her mum moved her to the right instead before shackling her ankles then encouraging her, with a push on her shoulder, to lean forwards over the wooden bench and put her arms behind her back to be tied. A collar was then put around her neck with a short chain attached to a weight on the ground which would prevent her from standing up. Thus were her mouth, cunt and ass made readily available to anyone who should wish to make use of them before the spitting.

“Looking good!” Becky giggled. “Makes me wish I had a dick!” Samantha managed to turn her head and stick her tongue out at her sister but both knew the exchange was more playful than malicious. Her dad approached and Samantha expected him to make the announcement that she was “open for business” after checking her restraints, maybe even having the first turn himself. But instead, after satisfying himself that his wife had done a good job securing their older daughter, he turned to Becky.

“So,” he explained, looking a little awkward, “the bad news is that way more people than expected have shown up. Some people have brought extras that we didn’t know about ahead of time and people who thought they weren’t going to make it have been able to rearrange their other plans last minute and come anyway. Now, I know Sam’s got plenty of good meat…” he gave her ass a squeeze then slapped it a little harder than necessary. “But we’ve got got so much other stuff to go with her and we didn’t really plan on her having to stretch between so many.”

“I’m right here!” Samantha reminded her dad who, despite still having his hand on her backside, was talking about her as if she wasn’t there, something she found incredibly annoying! Even if she was just meat now, she still felt entitled to some basic acknowledgment!

“Yeah, sorry honey.” He patted her ass again, a little distractedly. “But anyway, good news is Grandpa’s got a spare spit and the mounts can take two!”

“So who else is going over the coals?” Becky looked out at the gathered guests. Several of the teenage girl cousins did look rather tasty! “You gonna ask for volunteers or…?” Her parents exchanged slightly nervous glances.

“Well no, that’s not how this really works!” their mum reminded her gently, taking charge of the conversation as their dad went to meet his own dad who was walking towards them proudly brandishing a spare spit retrieved from its display on the wall of the dining room. “It’s our family’s duty this year to provide the meat and, as Samantha won’t be enough on her own, you’ll need to join her. Undress for me, please.”

“What?” Becky exclaimed in alarm. “No! That wasn’t the deal! Sam’s the oldest so…”

“And if she could provide enough meat on her own then you wouldn’t need to be cooked too,” her dad explained sharply, “but we need more so you’ll have to. Now, are you going to undress or do we need to do it for you?”

“No but…” the twelve year old looked pleadingly from one parent to another but saw on both their faces that there was no point in arguing. Samantha couldn’t help feeling a little pleased that her sister would be roasting by her side, not to mention sharing the burden of the “entertainment” with her, but whether it was out of a desire for company or revenge for the teasing, she could not truthfully say. A little reluctantly but trying not to cry, Becky untied and dropped her sarong then quickly removed her small bikini, leaving her early-blooming pre-teen body utterly exposed to the hungry eyes of her parents and the rest of the extended family.

“Okay.” she bit her lip and tried to smile bravely. “I’m ready. What do I need to do?”