Pt 12

The official wedding photographer had been taking pictures through the whole process, along with at least half the guests, but now that the ritual of undressing the bridesmaids was complete, he asked them to pose together for some official, more formal photos. Glancing over and seeing that her friend was practically bouncing out of her seat and looking distinctly annoyed, Daisy ran over to Frank and asked if the other meat-girls could join them for some of the photos.

“Well, I don’t know!” Frank teased, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “I don’t know if I want too many naked girls in my wedding photos… Oh who am I kidding?” he laughed out loud and patted Daisy on the shoulder, “There’s no such thing as too many naked girls in a photograph!” He turned and beckoned out to the guests. “Let’s have the rest of you meat girls too! You’re all part of the wedding feast after all! Get up here and get undressed!”

Before the last word was even out of his mouth, Stephanie was naked and holding Daisy’s hands, bouncing up and down in excitement while her bewildered mother carefully removed the hastily-shed dress from where it had been thrown over her own head and folded it neatly, placing it in the bag under her chair.

The meat-girls among the visitors from abroad were a little more sedate and conservative. They walked to the front together, fully dressed, with Courtney holding Chelsea’s hand protectively and Julia following behind them. As they undressed, the majority of the attention was, of course, on the shapely sixteen year old but, as she had hoped, Courtney’s languid strip, taking her time to peel off her lacy panties, also drew a fair share of whistles and cheers.

Soon all nine of the meat-girls were stark naked and the photographer resumed his duties, resolving to offer the couple a discount if they would allow some of these photos to be sold on the open market where he was sure there would be plenty of takers.

It was not especially uncommon for girls to be cooked and served at weddings and many of the wedding photos he took included naked meat-girls but it was usually only one or two or small groups of similarly-aged girls. To be able to photograph a group such as this, with nine girls covering a broad spectrum was ages was, he considered, like hitting the jackpot!

Once all the formal photos, and several informal ones too, had been taken, Frank announced that Jessica and the girls who were going to the kitchen would be taken back up to the club house in the minibus but that he and the others would be walking up, mingling with the guests. Jessica’s grandmother who’s old knees could not manage such a walk was invited to travel in the minibus with her granddaughter, great-granddaughter, Chelsea and Julia while the rest of the guests set off of foot for the club house, the remaining naked meat-girls wandering amongst them.

As the group made its way up the hill across the grass, Megan found it incredibly funny the different ways people reacted to her and her fellow food. Some would openly compliment their bodies and express how much they were looking forward to the feast, some even discussing with the girls which parts of their bodies they most wanted to eat and how they might taste, whereas others seemed to be going to pains to talk about anything but the fact that the girls were soon to be cooked and eaten! The silliest, in Megan’s opinion, were the questions about how she was getting on in school – she thought this of very little consequence she she would be dead by the evening but she answered politely anyway.

There were even some people who asked to touch the girls’ bodies as they walked and chatted, wanting, they said, to feel the meat. Megan, Melody and Stephanie happily obliged those who asked. Laura, Daisy and Courtney were a little more hesitant at first but, when they say the other girls being felt and groped all over, they agreed also and, by the time they reached the club-house patio, all six of them had been prodded, poked, squeezed and stroked by more hands than they cared to count!

The naked and much-inspected meat-girls, who had gradually made their way to the front of the party, with Frank close behind, let out a collective gasp as they saw what was laid out on the patio.

In the middle was a kind of A-frame, the kind that a child’s swing might hang from in the park but there was no swing on this one, only short chains with handcuffs on the end. Beside it was a table with space for platters of butchered meat to be laid but also hosting a variety of tools – there were knives of all sizes, two cleavers, a saw and even some tools that looked like large pairs of tongs. Frank leaned in and whispered to Melody that those were for cracking open her rips and splitting her skull as well as for breaking racks of rips off her body. This information gave the teenager a chill of excitement. To the other side was a long grill like a typical barbecue found in public parks.

In one corner of the patio was a wide roasting pit with mounts for two spits – this was clearly where Megan and Laura would be spending their final minutes. The spits themselves, which looked very thick and very sharp, leaning against a metal upright frame which had various restraints hanging from it. Megan recognised this from her research as something used to assist with the spitting process – she explained this to Laura who gazed at the metal frame longingly, imagining herself strapped to it, hoping she would not have to use her imagination for too long!

In the far corner was a large pot, easily big enough for the three girls if they didn’t mind being a little pressed together, mounted over a wide gas ring and with a set of steps on the side, similar to what might be found at a swimming pool, to help the meat-girls climb in.

“So, what do you think?” Frank asked the excited girls with a broad grin.

“It looks amazing!” Laura enthused.

“Even better than on the beach!” agreed Melody, already picturing herself chained and helpless in the frame while hungry guests cut meat from her nubile young body to place on the grill.

“I’m glad you think…” Frank began before looking surprised. He fished in the inside pocket of his wedding suit jacket and pulled out his phone. He tapped in the code to unlock it with his thumb then peered at the screen, his brow furrowed. “Well shit…” he muttered.

“What?” Megan looked up at him, her eyes wide with concern. “What is it?”

“Yeah!” asked Daisy. “What’s the matter?”

“Emergency notification.” Frank explained. “Everyone should be getting them right about now. Apparently cannibalism has been banned again! Some issue about conditions in some restaurants and slaughter-houses. The government has imposed a blanked ban on all slaughter and consumption of girl-meat until the investigations are completed.” He sighed and slipped his phone back in his pocket. “Sorry, girls. Looks like you’re not getting eaten today! I guess we’d better call for pizza or something. Can’t have everyone going hungry!”

“What?” Melody practically shrieked, giving voice to the silent horror with which all six girls were staring at Frank. “You have got to be fucking kidding!” The pretty teenager was not usually one for swearing but having the metaphorical rug pulled out from under her plans twice in a row like this was too much for her to bear! Although he struggled valiantly to keep his poker-face for a few seconds longer, Frank failed and broke into a broad grin.

“Of course I am!” He laughed. “Sorry girls,” he told the six naked, relieved but annoyed-looking young girls gathered around him. “I couldn’t resist! No, no legal issues this time! You get to cook and we get to enjoy your delicious meat! The kitchen staff have told me they’ll give a signal when it’s time to get you all started but for now, feel free to wander around, check out the equipment, say and last goodbyes, that sort of thing!”

While Frank, the six girls and most of the guests had been making their way back across the lawn to the club house, the minibus had arrived and, after helping Grandma down the step, Jessica had given her little daughter a final kiss before waving the three girls off as they were taken to the kitchen. Julia, a sweet-natured girl who had done a lot of baby-sitting in the past for younger children, walked between the two little ones, holding their hands so that they would not feel nervous. The teenager could feel a sticky trickle running down the inside of her leg as she thought about how she was soon going to be slaughtered like a pig and butchered into small cuts of meat and she wondered if the other girls were as excited to be on the menu as she was?

Once inside the kitchen, the young woman who had escorted the pretty, naked trio handed them over to a large man who was far from handsome but at least had a kind face. From the way he was dressed, he was clearly the head chef. After smiling briefly and politely at the girls, he consulted a clipboard.

“So,” he spoke without looking up, “I’ve got you down for two oven-roasts and a self-serve party-platter, does that sound right?” All three girls nodded and agreed. Julia’s answer was very enthusiastic but, faced with the reality of being in the kitchen, the two younger girls were a little more hesitant. “Right!” The chef smiled affably, “Let’s get the two little ones under way,” her looked at Julia, “then I can see to you. I’m sure you understand it’s better for them to go quickly and not wait around too long seeing what goes on?”

“Sure.” The Canadian teen smiled. “Maybe I can help?”

“Well, if you’d like to, it would mean I could do them both at the same time rather than one watching the other. Would you like that, girls?” He smiled down at the little chicken and turkey who both nodded happily. “Great! Just give me a few moments to set up!” He beckoned to a young assistant who came over and helped him affix two pieces of apparatus to the end of a metal table. They reminded Claire of something she had seen the secretary at school using in the office to cut big piles of paper into strips. Essentially, it was a long, curved, sharp-looking blade with a plastic handle on one end and hinged to the base at the other. The base had a groove for the blade to rest in and a slight indentation in the middle.

“Okay!” The chef grinned, throwing a couple of handfuls of flour onto the metal surface and patting it around with the palm of his hand. “This stops you sticking to the table while we work!” her explained, before lifting Claire up with one arm and patting some flour onto her back and bottom with the other, making her giggle. After setting her down on the table, he did the same to Chelsea and set her down on the other side.

“What do you need me to do?” Julia asked, eager to be a helpful part of the process before her own time came.

“These buckets will collect the blood and the other bits we cut off,” the chef explained, setting two large containers, a little like water-butts that people put in the garden to collect the rain, side by side at the end of the table. “It will all go in the stew with the live girls. The family have requested that all your heads be put on display so we’ll need to stop them going in the buckets and getting messy. That’s where you come in.” Julia nodded while the two smaller girls, sat on their freshly-powdered bottoms on the metal surface, listened with interest. “Once their heads are in place, it’s your job to hold their hair so when the heads come away, they won’t fall. Now, obviously it can get a little messy at the business end and we can give your carcass a hosing down during the butchering process,” hearing her body referred to as a carcass gave Julia a special thrill, “but for your own comfort I recommend you be ready to jump out of the way as soon as the heads are off, okay?” The teenager nodded and took her place at the end of the table.

“Okay girls!” The chef smiled at the two little meat-girls, “This shouldn’t hurt, we’ll make it as quick as possible but we need you to do exactly as you’re asked and lay still when we say, can you do that?” They nodded earnestly. “Good. Now it’s okay if you want to close your eyes but it’s very important that you don’t try to move your head once we unlock the blade, okay? All that will happen is you will get badly hurt and be in a lot of pain before we kill you. So, ready?” Despite the sternness of his lecture, he asked this final question with a smile and both girls grinned as they nodded their agreement and understanding.

Guided by the rough but caring hands of the chef and his assistant, Claire and Chelsea lay on their backs and giggled as they were slid along the flour-covered surface by hands on their bellies. As their heads were slid into place, they could feel their necks resting in the indentation. The little girls looked up and saw Julia smiling down at them as she took hold of Claire’s black braid in one hand and Chelsea’s golden-blonde pony-tail in the other.

As he had done with so many girls before, the chef slipped a finger inside Claire’s tight, chubby and surprisingly moist little pussy while his assistant did the same to Chelsea. With enough time, he knew he could stimulate her to orgasm but there was a lot of work to be done – even so, he hoped the sensation would be pleasant for her as he slid his rather thick finger in and out and that the sensation would provide a nice distraction from her imminent beheading.

When she saw the burly chef take hold of the handle on the end of the blade, Claire screwed her eyes tightly shut. She was scared and wished her Mummy was there with her to hold her hand but she understood that Mummy wasn’t allowed to get her pretty wedding dress dirty so couldn’t come into the kitchen. She wanted to be a good girl, to be a good chicken, and be part of a delicious meal for Mummy and Frank’s party and she didn’t really mind dying. At her age, concepts such as death were a little abstract anyway. But she was afraid of pain. She had cut her finger on a sharp knife while helping Mummy in the kitchen once and she remembered how much that had hurt. Now there was a sharp knife about to cut her head all the way off and she did not see how that could not hurt a whole lot more.

She liked the feeling of the man’s finger inside her. It felt a lot like what Mummy had done to her the day before and taught her do back in return. She felt a little dizzy and it was confusing to be excited and scared at the same time. She wondered if this was all a silly dream after all and in a moment she would wake up back in bed, with Mummy cuddling her and telling her there was nothing to be afraid of.

There was a metallic scraping noise followed by a thud and the chef and his assistant brought the blades down simultaneously. As her brain flooded with endorphins, Claire thought that something must have gone wrong, that the blade must have missed her neck somehow and she wondered how quickly they would try again but then she felt a strange, light feeling as if she was flying, held up by her hair. Opening her eyes, Claire saw the chef and his friend spinning two headless bodies around, using the blades to cut off their feet then hands, all of which landed with a splash in the barrels below. It took her a few moments to realise that the body she was looking at was her own and that she no longer seemed to be attached to it. As her vision began to blur and go dark, she understood that her head had been cut off after all and that the chef had been telling the truth – it did not hurt one bit! A serene, happy smile formed on Claire’s cute little face and, no more than a second later, she was gone.