The Butcher's Shop

(decap)

There was never such a thing as a slow day at the butcher's shop. Ever since Pete had started working as an assistant there, he'd been busy. If he wasn't cutting meat for orders, he was salting, curing or refrigerating it for future use. It was steady work and the pay was decent so he stuck with it.

That day, orders had been minimal and very few walked in asking for a cut. He manned the register, bored out of his mind, while the boss handled packaging in the backroom. He was on the verge of taking a nap when the front door of the shop swung open on its hinges and rattled the bells above it. A young woman stepped in, dark-haired, with a dancer's body. She wore a skirt with floral prints and a simple white top. Her skin was slick with sweat; she'd been out in the heat for a time.

"Hello," greeted Pete. "How can I help you, ma'am?"

She smiled at him and cast a cursory glance at the cuts of meat on display. He could tell by the anxious flick of her eyes that she wasn't interested in any of the products she was looking at. He waited for her to finish her examination and meet his eyes. "Well, truthfully, I'm not looking to buy anything."

He quirked his eyebrow at her. "Oh? Would you like to order something for a later date?"

She rubbed her arm. "No. I have another sort of request."

Pete leaned against his elbows on the counter, intrigued by the air of mystery the strange girl projected. "Well, I'm all ears, ma'am. What can I do for you?"

She swallowed, apparently gathering her courage, and looked him in the eyes. "Do you deal in human meat?"

The question struck him. He teethered on the heel of his foot. "Um...not usually. I mean, it's been known to happen but generally just for custom orders."

"Well, I want to surrender myself. For a custom order or general consumption."

Pete chewed on his lip, his face furrowed with confusion. He'd never dealt with work of this nature before. "Uh, sure. I think I can help you. Let me see if I can find the form." He knelt below the counter, searching among stacks of paperwork for the appropriate document. In between his search, he glanced above the counter. The girl eyed the cuts of meat behind the display glass with an odd curiosity. After a long time, he found the form and brought it up. "Here. Let me see if I can find a pen."

"No need," she said, withdrawing a pen from her purse. "Thank you."

"Sure."

He watched her in stunned silence as she filled out the form, her hand flowing effortlessly over the printed lines. Just as soon as she had started, she finished and slid it across the counter to him. He held it up and read over the information. Her name was Anna, she was an Asian female, aged 21, with an O blood type and no known illnesses. Under the section titled 'Additional Notes', she had written that she only wished to be meat and nothing more.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked, placing the paper down on the counter. He groped under the desk for the stamp of approval.

Anna nodded firmly. "Yes, I'm completely sure."

Pete shrugged and brought the red stamp down on the document. It was done; she was officially meat now. "So be it. Come around the side. I need to take your measurements and then get you cleaned up. Take off your clothes please."

She crossed eagerly around the counter and started stripping down, discarding her shirt, skirt, bra and panties on a pile by her feet. She held her arms out for him to measure her.

"Hmm...5'7, 132lbs." He pinched her arms and legs. "Quality of meat seems firm and supple." He groped her small breasts. "Very supple."

Anna watched him with lustful eyes and a blushing face but she said nothing as he felt her up. He winked at her, unwrapped the measuring tape and scribbled a few more notes on her release form.

"Come with me to the back. I need to get you cleaned up."

She nodded obediently and trailed behind him into the backrooms of the shop. His boss was nowhere to be seen. He brought her into a large chamber with drains embedded into the floor. From a rack on the wall, he withdrew a hose and tweaked the nozzle to low pressure. "Stand still."

She stood up, spine erect and straight. He sprayed her down with a few short bursts of water until her skin was raw and clean. He noticed the stiff pink nubs of her nipples as droplets of water beaded down her breasts, her toned belly and the small tuft of hair between her legs.

"Good." Pete rested the hose back in its place on the rack and beckoned to her to follow him into another room. "Now we'll begin the process of turning you into meat. Are you ready?"

She nodded, clearly aroused by the whole business, and followed him into a small room with cutting boards and an assortment of blades lining the walls. He grabbed a large meat cleaver from a rack and stood by a table with a small, flat wooden board. "Bend over and lay your head down on the board. Tie your hair up in a bun so it doesn't get in the way."

Anna did as she was told and prostrated herself against the cutting board. He placed the cleaver beside her head and worked on freeing his cock from his pants. "First I need to tenderize the meat. Spread your legs please."

She spread her legs and tensed the muscles in her ass like a good girl. He grabbed her cheeks, squeezed them, spat on his hand and stroked himself as he entered her. He eased in her slowly, stretching her tight hole and then he began to thrust away, gripping her ass as he pounded into her.

"Such...good...meat."

She had been quiet up until that point but his cock was making her sing. She moaned and arched her back into him, providing all of herself for his use. He slipped his fingers between her legs, teasing her cunt with probing thrusts as he rubbed her clit with his thumb. "Meat's wet, enjoying this. As well she should."

Neither of them lasted much longer. He moaned and she cried as he filled her up. Pete took a moment to catch his breath then lifted her up and laid her flat across the board. He took up the cleaver, raised it above her head and looked her in the eyes. "Ready?"

Anna nodded. It was the last movement she made with her head. The blade came down with a swift cut and decapitated her in a red spray. The stump of her neck spurted blood all across the cutting board, her body spasming violently from the sudden severance. He watched, mesmerized, as the cords in that dancer's body tensed and flexed from the last commands of frantic nerves. Her head, having rolled against his wrist, looked up at him with beaming eyes and a wide smile.

Her headless body fought for a long time before at last growing still. Twitches were all that remained of the life within; when that subsided, her bladder let loose a yellow stream that stained the cutting board with dark splotches. She used the last of her life to blow him a kiss before her eyes rolled up in the back of her head and her tongue dropped slack out of her mouth.

Pete took in a moment to drink in the sight before him. Had he known butchering could be this fun, he would have started the job sooner.

"Looks like I'll have to clean you up again," he said to the fresh corpse before him. "And fuck you again."

Later that day, cuts of Anna were put on display at reasonable prices. His boss, pleased with the profit that the girl had brought in, started to advertise girl butchering services.

Pete took Anna's head home. It held a special place in his collection, along with all the others.