“Hello! And welcome everyone to the Sailor Scouts Snuff Show! In every episode, we look at a request by you, our audience, and if we decide to go for it, well, you'll still have to pay!” The voice of Sailor Moon came over the moving sign advertising their services.

On the program, the five scouts stood relaxed in a line. “Thank you to our previous donor,” Moon said, bowing low and letting her hair fall past her head to the floor. “Your kindness was most appreciated.”

From left to right, the five were lined up in order of the position of their name sakes astronomically. Mercury, Venus, Moon, Mars, Jupiter. The five Sailor Snuff Scouts! In a row, their white leotards were adorned with the bow ties and frilly skirts of their uniforms. Blue, yellow, gold, red and green.

“Well, now it's time for our next request,” Moon announced with a flourish. “I have it right here!” She pulled open the front of her uniform and reached down into it before pulling out a small slip of paper. “Here we go!”

“Ah! Our mysterious Patron 'A' has this request to make!” Moon read aloud from the single slip of paper. “Sailor Jupiter!” At her name being called, the tall brunette stood straighter, rolling her shoulders back to better present her best assets, other than her height. “Our Patron wishes for you to attend their dinner, where your limbs will be shorn from your body and served for supper. Afterwards, I shall hand you over to one of my precious guests for their personal and private use for the night.”

Jupiter seemed to think about that when Venus spoke up. “Hey, aren't these the same people that made this request of me a year ago?”

“Maybe?” Moon asked as she looked over at Mercury, who was busy checking her personal computer. After a moment, she nodded. “Well, it seems like we have a repeat customer!” Moon clapped her hands together with a smile on her face. “What was it like, if you don't mind?” She prodded her fellow into spilling any memories she could.

“Well,” Venus made a show of it, putting her hand on her head as she recollected those memories. “The supper was pretty good, but then again, we were talking about my body there.” She stepped out of line to reach out to Jupiter. “I mean, look at these arms!”

“I have meat on my bones!” The brunette said back. “More than you, that's for sure.” She slapped away Venus' hand with ease. “I'll do it!”

Venus returned to her spot.

“Well, now that that's out of the way, let's see. Repeat customer, sex, partial cannibalism... here's the price!” Moon swept her hand down, where post-processing would add the final tally. “Remember, payment is due in 72 hours!”

* * *

Walking into the kitchen, Jupiter's first sight was to the Chef. The middle-aged woman had a slight hunch to her back, and was wearing a white uniform, though past that there was absolutely nothing about her that was identifiable. Even her eyes would be hard to describe. But those eyes looked at Jupiter with all the passion of a butcher looking at another slab of meat, which was exactly what was going on. Jupiter had seen that feeling before, though it was much rarer than the other responses – lust, hunger, etc....

“Strip,” the woman commanded with a heavy, but unplacable accent. Jupiter complied, recognizing that she wasn't putting a show on for her. Pulling off her boots first, she tossed them to one side as her feet adjusted to the cool floor. Next, she removed her gloves, balling them up before tossing them to join the footwear.

The Chef was apparently unimpressed and her look was one that forced Jupiter to move faster. She quickly pulled the shoulders of her seifuku over her arms, where she was able to begin rolling it down over her large breasts and not-to-wide hips. Stepping out of them, she kicked it to join the pile of clothes to one side. This left her with just her tiara and the hair tie, neither of which needed to go if what Venus had told her was true. And the Chef didn't seem to care either.

With no sense of personal space, the Chef examined Jupiter's arms and legs, pressing and poking and pinching them until she was satisfied. “Good,” was the finale to her examination, apparently satisfied that the Sailor Scout kept herself in shape.

“Table,” she said in her inscrutable tone of voice. Jupiter followed her pointer finger and saw that a large metal table with a great many drainage holes had been laid out, one with six straps already arranged on it, though still open.

Jupiter climbed onto the table, and slid her legs into the lower and wider pair of straps. Once they were in position, she pulled the straps tight, letting her legs become immobile. She took a glance behind her, and saw that the Chef was preparing something with her back turned to her.

Unwilling to incur the Chef's annoyance – she knew from being on both ends of that how poorly it would end for the meat, Jupiter lay down on the table, wrapping the wast strap over her body, pulling it tight for the impending butchering. Once that was in place, she reached up and did the one for her neck, making sure it was secure, but not too tight. There was no sense in choking herself now.

She was about to secure the one arm she could with both of them free when the Chef returned. Over her cook's uniform was a leather apron, thankfully clean as a sign of her professionalism. In her hands was an electric saw, the blade gleaming in the lights. “Good,” she said. “I finish.”

The Chef put down the saw and snapped the straps over Jupiter's wrists. Now fixed into place, the Senshi couldn't move if she wanted to. Of course, the Chef also checked the other bands, and found them acceptable. Returning to Jupiter's left side, the Chef picked up the electric saw and activated it. “No die,” she said. “Know Magic.”

With that declaration, the Chef swung the saw down, slicing deep into the meat of Jupiter's leg. The Scout refused to give voice to the scream that rose up from her body as the nerves and muscles were alight with fire. The release died in her throat as her body adapted to the pain for just a moment before the bone was hit. This time, her body reacted as the saw's pitch changed and the sharp vibrations shuddered up her femur and into her hips, where it connected with her spine.

“AAAH!”

The Chef ignored the yell, and even the reaction of her body as the saw finished with the bone, and returned the far easier flesh. Only then did Jupiter notice that there was no blood, and no once did the Chef's hand move from where it held her down. It wasn't natural.

The old woman ignored all that as she removed the limb, Jupiter could see for a moment the raw meat of her leg, though apparently sealed before the Chef returned to her right side to repeat her actions.

This time, Jupiter was ready for the sensations, and the Chef cut off her other leg without undue complaint. It still hurt, but it wasn't a raw nor ragged cut. Part of her was disappointed still that this woman wasn't going to take advantage of this situation to make it as intense as possible.

Once again, the Chef preferred efficiency over torture or other, more time consuming methods. Her right arm was held down by the firm grip of the elder woman, and the saw made quick work of the much thinner limb. In fact, it was over so quickly, Jupiter was certain for a moment that it hadn't happened at all!

But even as she tried to process the quick severance, the Chef removed the arm from the cutting table, and soon returned for the last one. And just as quickly, it too was gone, leaving her a limbless torso and head strapped by the neck to the table.

She desperately wanted to pleasure her self in the moment, but nothing would come to deal with that, save her own will.

The Chef returned again, saw still in hand, and Jupiter wondered what was happening when the edge of it touched her neck. She panicked, thinking that the Chef was going to cut off her head as well, when the woman's face took on a look of confusion. “No head,” she muttered to herself. “Doll. Yes. Doll.”

The blade was removed, and Jupiter relaxed. She wanted to enjoy this, not spend the rest of this life as a head slowly loosing blood. Or would she, given that this woman obviously knew some magic?

She'd done the head thing before. It wasn't too her liking. She enjoyed her body, and intended to use it as much as possible, hence her agreement here – even though it meant losing arms and legs in the process.

The Chef vanished from sight, leaving Jupiter still strapped to the table.

The table itself wasn't cold, or anything like that. Rather, she just felt plain awkward as the sounds of food preparation reached her ears. Instead of fretting though, Jupiter relaxed against her bonds so as to not distract the chef.

It wasn't long though before another set of feet entered the kitchen. “Is that the ornament?” a male voice asked, to which the Chef made a sound of agreement. Jupiter swung her head around to see a middle-aged man walk toward her. “Ah, good body,” he said without a hint of desire. “I will have it prepared in an hour.” The Chef ignored him.

The man came over and did not introduce himself as he undid the straps still holding her in place. He slid his hands under her and lifted Jupiter up by her hips and shoulders, carrying her out of the Kitchen and into an adjacent room where a rolling table was set up. Obviously, this place was rich enough to afford one room for food preparation, and another for food presentation.

Although that wasn't her destination right away. Instead, she was taken to one side where she was put down into a sink and washed thoroughly by the man, who was equally professional as the Chef in the kitchen. He didn't take advantage of her body in any way, even when his hand scrubbed between her amputated legs, or over her ample breasts.

Once she was washed and clean to the satisfaction of the man, he took her over to the rolling table, and the raised pedestal on it. “Yes,” he said to himself, “this will work.” He put his hands under her shoulders and lifted Jupiter up onto the central platform of the rolling table.

She didn't notice the clear upright in the middle of the table until the man fitted her anus over it and shoved down. Jupiter bit back a sound of pain, taken by surprise at the insertion. He held her steady for a moment, then flipped up two semi-circles on the edge of the raised section to collar her hips in a thin metal band.

Jupiter looked down to see her body being held in place, an open display for anyone who wanted to reach over the table to touch her.

“No, no” the man said to himself. “Master desires flesh. Not stone this night.” He gave no sign of admitting that Jupiter heard him, even though her heart skipped a beat at the idea of being transformed into marble. While she had no problems with that, the results of that being done to Mercury without contractual permission were still being felt.

Instead, the man took the moment to put some sort of foam between Jupiter's skin and the metal belt, preventing her from tilting one side or the other too much, in addition to preventing any form of chafing.

While that was happening, the Chef came out of the kitchen, pushing a trolley of her own. Without looking at the propped-up Senshi, she started to lay out the meat around Jupiter. In front of her were her feet, uncooked, but garnished. Her fingers had been cut off, all the digits placed across the palm of her hand and given a slight drizzle of something dark.

Somehow, her legs had been reduced to slices of meat, and they were artfully arranged in a hemisphere to her right and left, while behind her, she could turn a little to see her arms laid out with the skin removed and the meat of them cut into a multitude of small segments ripe for the picking and dipping in the array of sauces that bordered them.

Various small other food stuffs – rice, vegetables, etc, filled out the rolling table, while another one was produced that had a variety of drinks on it, which she was sure was not for minors.

Now ready, Jupiter was rolled out by the Chef and the man out into the dining area of the mansion. There, she was presented to a small crowd of a half-dozen socialites. Or rather, the meal was. As ornamentation, she was completely ignored – much like the ones who prepared her.

The guests started to serve themselves of her offered flesh, taking them onto fine porcelain plates, and elegant silver utensils. They chatted about irrelevant things, speaking not to Jupiter, nor did she speak, instead smiling and making sure she stayed upright. To be seen and not heard, wasn't that the saying?

It didn't really matter to Jupiter as the meal wore on. She wasn't thirsty, nor hungry. But she did have time to think about things. Nothing serious though. This wasn't the time for that.

Eventually though, the party, such as it was, finished and the guests went away. Once they were gone, Jupiter took a look down at the surrounding plate. She didn't like the fact that there was still meat left, but had to admit that maybe they weren't all that hungry. Or saving room for dessert, whatever that may be.

She wondered if she would get some too before long. But then thought better of it.

“Ah, you must me my winnings,” a gentle voice spoke out from behind Jupiter. Turning to look at the person addressing her, she saw one of the guests walk around the table. A pretty woman in a red strapless dress circled the table, one hand on the edge. “I honestly do not understand what goes through his mind....”

Sensing it was time to speak, Jupiter greeted the woman. “Hello.”

“Ah! She speaks!” The red-clad woman replied in mock surprise, somehow not being sarcastic at the same time. “I wondered.” She stopped in front of Jupiter, looking up at her.

They looked at each other for a few moments before the woman spoke. “What does it feel like?”

“Like what?” Jupiter asked, not certain which condition was worth mentioning. The Plexiglas(?) rod up her ass, the whole 'Senshi' deal, or just her current predicament in general.

“No limbs.” She replied.

“That.” Jupiter thought about it. “It was painful, for a moment. Then nothing.”

The woman seemed to think about it. “I cannot imagine it. Nor does it appeal to me.”

Jupiter did not respond.

“Are you hungry?” She asked, picking up a slice of arm with a pair of clean chopsticks. “There is plum sauce, sweet-and-sour, and a peach.”

Taken aback that she was being offered pieces of herself, Jupiter at first refused through silence before recognizing that the woman wasn't being impolite. “I am too high up,” she said to cover herself. “I don't think you can reach me.”

“Oh!” The woman looked around before grabbing a nearby chair. “That would be a problem.” She pulled the chair closer then carefully climbed up onto it in order to reach Jupiter's mouth. “Here, try the plum sauce first. She offered a strip of meat to Jupiter, who in turn accepted the offering with an open mouth.

“Chewy,” she said after a moment of digesting her own self. She looked at the woman, who was already holding up another strip, this time with the light color of the peach sauce. “You know, this would be easier if I was let down.”

“That's right!” The woman hopped down and rushed about. “I will be right back!”

“W!” Jupiter was stopped from finishing the 'Wait!' because the woman had run off behind her.

“Chair!” She announced as she ran back to in front of the fixed-facing Senship. She climbed up, removing her heels in the process. Standing up, she was just a little higher than Jupiter now. “How do I get you off?”

Seeing as how there would be no help from elsewhere, Jupiter swung back and forth to check the band around her waist. “That has to go,” she said. “Though I'm not sure how.”

“Ah!” The woman said as she leaned down to examine it. “There's a catch. Shall I?”

“Be careful, I don't want to fall.”

The woman undid a latch hidden from Jupiter's view, and the two halves of the hoop fell away. Suddenly unsupported, Jupiter wobbled. Without arms to swing to regain her balance, and having been pretty much still for the last bit of time, she was unable to properly straighten herself out and started to tip over.

Her fall was arrested when the woman reached out to catch her, wrapping one hand around Jupiter's back, which meant that she fell forward. Onto the woman. “Oof!” she grunted as she shifted her weight to account for her new load.

“You're heavy!” She said as she awkwardly lifted Jupiter up off her pedestal and down to the chair she climbed off of.

Jupiter felt some sense of relief, being removed from the parts of the stand that forced her upright. She let out a breath of relief, relaxing for a moment even as the woman set her down. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” she replied. “Now, about that food....” The woman plucked the meat off the platter where she had left it and offered it to the reclining Jupiter. “Here you go!”

The Senshi wondered for a moment if the woman even recognized that she was offering her own meet to her. Then dismissed the concern as irrelevant. She opened her mouth, and the slip of meat we slid into it, where she pulled it with her tongue and began to chew.

Moist and sweet. The chef was a better cook than Moon, that's for sure.

“Do you like it?” she was asked. Jupiter took a moment to swallow before nodding.

“Ah! Good!” The woman looked at the table a bit more. “Did you want anything else? It must have been dreadfully impolite to eat while you were up there.”

“I was hired to be presentation,” Jupiter explained, in case the woman wasn't fully aware of the details, “then as companionship for the evening.”

The woman seemed surprised. “I was told I 'won' you. Is that what it meant?”

“Yes,” Jupiter confirmed. “If you were male, I fully expect I would have been nothing more than a fuck-pillow until morning.”

“Oh my!” The woman was aghast. “Is that true?”

“Yes,” Jupiter said. “But it seems like you have me and my body for the evening.”

The woman looked at Jupiter, as though seeing her for the first time as something more. “Truely?”

Jupiter nodded.

“But I have never slept with a woman like that!”

(If that's your concern,) Jupiter thought to herself, (then that's not mine). “Perhaps another piece of meat?”

“What? Oh! Of course!” she picked up a slice of leg and folded it carefully before offering it to Jupiter. She chewed carefully and when the opportunity presented itself, let a small spot of sauce dribble down out her mouth and onto her breast.

“Oh! You dropped something!” The woman bent to wipe away the sauce when her hand paused just away from Jupiter's flesh. “Oh, um....”

“Go ahead,” Jupiter encouraged her. “Fingers or lips, your choice.”

“Lips?” The woman was shocked at the suggestion, even as Jupiter held her gaze with a curled smile.

She looked down at Jupiter's bosom, then up at her encouraging face, then around to see that there was no one watching, then back down to Jupiter's body. Without any further warning, she knelt down and opened her mouth, taking Jupiter's teat into it, sauce and all.

For a moment, Jupiter was astounded that her ploy had worked. She figured she would have to do more cajoling before something like this happened. Then her thoughts stopped as the woman started to suck on her breast, licking the raised tip with her tongue before pulling back.

Jupiter's face was flushed with excitement from the unexpected intimacy. “Are you sure you've never done this before?”

The woman seemed coy. “Perhaps.” She licked her lips, even as Jupiter devoutly wished she still had hands. Even one of them would help. “Another slice of meat?”

“I don't know,” Jupiter narrowed her eyes teasingly. “Will it be fresh?”

“I think I can arrange something.” The woman slipped off the top of her dress, exposing her upper body. Sitting on the edge of the seat, she pushed Jupiter up against the backrest as she twisted to face her. Lifting one breast, she used the other to steady herself. “Would you like a taste?”