Pt 4

“This is where I have to leave you, I’m afraid.” The assistant gave Kerry a friendly smile. “I have to go introduce some other girls to their diners but I assure you you’re in very good hands with Jeff here and I just know you’ll be delicious!” Kerry couldn’t help grinning a little proudly at this assurance. She was proud of young teenage body which was in good shape but was also, as a friend had put it when she discussed the possibility of volunteering with him, plump in all the right places! She didn’t think it too arrogant of herself to believe that the family who was about to eat her were in for a treat! “I’ll be back to serve you later,” the assistant assured her, “but you won’t be around by then, other than in body of course!” She gave a little laugh that Kerry joined in with, finding her good humour contagious. “Bye!” With that, she was gone, leaving the naked thirteen year old alone with and at the mercy of Jeff the Chef!

“Right,” he told her, his manner polite but professional, “to harvest your limbs we need to get you strapped down over here.” He led her to something which looked like a cross between a table and a hospital bed but even more like something she remembered seeing on a school trip to a museum dedicated to the history of crime and punishment which included many horrific yet fascinating medieval torture devices. The table was made from smooth, polished wood with two thick leather straps fixed roughly in the middle and smaller ones of wrists and ankles.

“Lay on the table, please.” Jeff instructed. Slightly nervously, Kerry did as she was told and the burly chef fixed the thick leather straps around her – one across her belly and the other across her chest, compressing her small but nicely round boobies uncomfortably.

“I’m not going to try to run away, I promise!” She assured him as he strapped her ankles into place. “Do they have to be so tight?”

“Sorry.” He gave her an awkward smile which did at least seem to be genuinely apologetic. “I know you’re very cooperative but once this starts, you’ll find a lot of your movements are involuntary so it’s much easier for everyone if you’re restrained.”

“Involuntary?” the curious young girl asked, wanting to understand everything that was happening to and around her.

“However on board with the idea of being butchered and cooked your brain is,” Jeff explained with patience as he had to many girls in the past, “your body has a fair number of natural responses that it’s pretty much impossible to override. If your body realises you are being injured and potentially killed, it can kind of shut your brain out of the decision-making process and start fighting before you even know what’s going on. At the very least, if you’re aware your arm is being cut, it’s pretty damn impossible not to try to pull it away.”

“Oh.” Kerry nodded. “I see.” This explanation did make a lot of sense and, after all, there seemed little point in making much fuss about a few minutes of discomfort when she had a maximum of half an hour left to live anyway! Next, cable ties, the thick kind like Police use in place of hand-cuffs, were secured around the upper parts of her arms and thighs and pulled so tight that they cut into her soft skin almost deep enough to draw blood. Almost immediately, she began to feel pins and needles in her limbs.

“These restrict the blood-flow to your limbs,” Jeff explained, “so you don’t bleed out when we cut them off. I’m afraid they’re not enough on their own ‘though so we have to use this.” He fetched a hand-held device from a shelf and plugged it in then set it down on it’s side.

“What is it?” Kerry asked. “What does it do?” The device looked pretty much like a standard electric iron like her mum used but instead of the arrow-head base with holes for steam it had a round, solid metal plate. Already it was clear that it was hotter than an iron too as the metal was starting to glow red in the centre and she could feel the heat radiating from it like the small heater her teacher had brought in from home when the boiler broke at school and there was no other way to heat the classrooms.

“Stops the bleeding on your stumps.” explained the chef. “Basically it burns the wound shut. I’m afraid it does hurt but probably no worse than getting your arm or leg cut off.” he gave a rather awkward chuckle but Kerry smiled to show that she understood and he could relax and explain things to her in a straight forward way. For as long as she could remember, she had been someone who would much rather know the facts about any upcoming pain or discomfort so she could brace herself. She hated when doctors or dentists would tell supposedly reassuring lies like “This won’t hurt” or “You might just feel a scratch”. If she was going to feel pain, she wanted to be ready. “Anyway,” Jeff continued, relaxing a little, “it’s another measure to keep you from bleeding out before you go on the spit.”

“Ah, good!” Kerry grinned. “I would like to experience some of that at least!”

“Oh yeah, one more thing.” the chef leant forward and took something from a hook on the side of the table, at an angle where Kerry couldn’t really see. “You’ll need to use this.” He held up a red ball-gag with black straps. “I know you probably think you won’t scream but, like I was saying earlier, a lot of these things are involuntary, you can’t help it, and as this is a pretty small building it’s not great if the diners here screams from the kitchen. Tends to dampen their appetite, y’know? Not to mention other meat-girls who are waiting or have come to look around because they’re thinking of volunteering.”

Kerry understood and gave a slightly resigned nod. The next few minutes were going to be painful and, from the sounds of it, rather humiliating but this was, after all, what she had signed up for, agreeing to endure whatever was required to give the diners who had purchased her a great meal! There had been several steps along the application and induction process when she could have backed out but now was not one of them and, understanding what she had committed herself to, she would not have done so even if she had the chance. She was meat now. Food. And that’s all there was to it!

The chef pulled a lever beside the table which tilted it to around sixty degrees, presumably to make accessing her arms and legs easier and now Kerry understood why the straps around her chest and tummy had to be so tight. Despite her nervousness and discomfort, she couldn’t help giggling that the thought of accidentally sliding off the table and flopping around on the floor with no arms and no legs like a freshly-caught fish! Once the table was locked into position, Jeff slipped the ball-gag over her head, pushed the ball into her mouth and tightened the straps.

“Try to scream,” he instructed, “loud as you can!” Kerry did as she was told but, with her jaw fixed in such an awkward position, the sound came out rather strangled and distinctly muted which was the desired effect. Even so, the excited and nervous redhead resolved not to make any more noise than she really could not help. Screaming is, after all, primarily a cry for help and she knew that nobody would be coming to her aid.

With no explanation, the chef turned and walked away. Kerry understood he had probably gone to fetch some other piece of equipment he needed but it felt strange and rather arousing to be strapped naked, gagged and utterly helpless to a table while all around her, people simply got on with their work as if nothing strange was going on at all. There were a few more meat-girls around now too, being prepared for their final fates and, rather to her surprise, a family with very pretty but fully dressed girls of maybe ten and twelve, both with long, golden-blonde hair. The assistant who was showing them around guided them over to Kerry and explained what was about to happen to her. The girls whispered to each other and giggled excitedly then the older of the two asked if they could stay and watch.

“We want to volunteer!” the younger girl came over and explained to Kerry, the first of the group to acknowledge that she was still, for now at least, a living person and not just a piece of meat. “But Mummy and Daddy wanted us to see what it was really like before we made up our minds. What they’re gonna do to you sounds kinda gross but kinda exciting too! Would you mind if we watched?” Doing her best to smile around the ball-gag, Kerry shook her head. “Awesome! See Mummy?” she turned back to the group, “She says we can watch!”

“Well I guess that settles it!” The assistant laughed. “Assuming it’s okay with you two?” She looked questioningly at the parents. “This could be a little gory.” The dad simply shrugged, apparently happy to go along with whatever his wife said and would keep his daughters happy. He also seemed to be more than a little distracted by the naked teenager strapped to a table mere feet away and the way he looked at her suggested he might think it a little bit of a waste to be eating her when she could have so many other ongoing uses!

“Oh I don’t mind!” the mum laughed, slipping her hand onto her older daughter’s shoulder. “If it’s grim it will either put them right off the idea or, if they’re okay with it, then I’ll know they’re serious about volunteering. Either way I’d say it’s a win!”

“Good thinking!” The assistant chuckled. It was not too uncommon for parents to bring wilful young girls to the kitchen in the hopes of “scaring them straight” only to find that the girls enjoyed what they saw so much that they ended up returning within weeks for a more personal, not to mention permanent, experience! “Okay but you’ll need to stay behind that line.” She pointed to a blue line marked on the floor a fair way back from where they were currently standing.

“Oh but that’s way far away!” the older girl whined. “We won’t be able to see anything!”

“We do our best to minimise mess,” the assistant explained, “but we don’t want the risk of visitors getting blood on their clothes.”

“Can’t we put an apron on or something?” pleaded the younger girl, “So we can get a bit closer?”

“We haven’t really got anything that would safely cover all your clothes, I’m afraid.” The assistant apologised.

“So we just take them off!” The older girl announced rather than asked, already standing on one leg and lifting up her foot to unbuckle her shoe. “You’ve got showers here, right? If we get blood on us we can just wash it off before we get dressed again!”

“Well yeas we do but…” The assistant looked a little anxiously at the parents but already both girls were down to at most half of what they had been wearing a moment before. “I suppose if you are okay with them being…”

“Duh!” the older sister laughed. “If we’re going to be cooked we’re gonna have to be naked in here anyway and it’s not like we’re the only naked girls in the room. Nobody cares!” The assistant was fairly sure there were rules about “civilian nudity” in the kitchen, what with all the hygiene regulations they had to observe and suchlike, but before she could make any further comment, the twelve year old had triumphantly whipped off her panties and was now presenting her mum with a screwed up bundle. Her younger sister was not far behind and soon both were stark naked. “There!” the older girl announced with her hands on her hips after glancing approvingly at her sister to check that she was similarly attired. “Now no blood can get on our clothes! Can we watch from a bit closer now?”

“I suppose so!” the assistant laughed in resignation, seeing that the girls’ parents did not seem to have any objection. “Just make sure you stay out of the way or the chef might get confused about which arms and legs he’s supposed to be chopping off and you’ll be going home in pieces!”

“I guess if that happens you’ll just have to cook us today!” The younger sister pointed out, “No biggie!”

“I don’t suppose you have a carrier bag of something, do you?” The mum asked, a plaintive look on her face as she tried to balance the unruly heap of clothes and shoes that had been dumped into her hands. The girls were now right up to the table, talking happily to Kerry even ‘though she could not reply properly.

“Sure,” the assistant smiled, “I’ll go find you something.”

At that point, Jeff returned pushing a metal trolley with a hand-held device on top that looked like an over-sized pizza-cutter. He did not seem especially surprised to see the other two naked girls stood by the table but, after greeting them politely and casting a professional eye over their bodies, he told them they needed to step back to give him room to work. Somewhat reluctantly, the girls did so but only by a few paces so they would not miss any of the action. Their parents and the assistant who was escorting them, meanwhile, stood back behind the line, well clear of the potential splatter-zone.

“Good luck!” The older girl called to Kerry while the younger sister gave her a thumbs-up.

“This basically works the same as any circular saw,” Jeff explained to Kerry, holding up the tool in his hand and pulling a trigger to make the blade spin. “Sharp as Hell and cuts through bone in seconds so this really shouldn’t take long, okay?” Kerry nodded to show that she understood then glanced to the side to see the watching girls whispering excitedly to each other, their eyes wide with anticipation.

Working quickly and efficiently, the chef started by unstrapping Kerry’s left arm which, thanks to the viciously-tight cable-tie, had barely any feeling in it at all. She was aware of the movement but experienced no sensation as he pulled it out to the side and, just as she was trying to decide whether she wanted to look or not, he brought the saw down.

To say it didn’t hurt as the spinning blade bit into her skin would not be true. It did hurt but not in the way she had expected. The closest equivalent she could think of was being slapped on an area of skin that was already sunburnt – intense and painful but infinitely tolerable and fading almost as soon as it came. The tool cut through her arm as easily as slicing a cake and, in what seemed like no time at all, her arm was off and flopping around almost comically in the chef’s hand.

It was a strange feeling for Kerry, looking at something that had been a part of her seconds earlier yet feeling little or no connection to it. It was just a thing now. A piece of meat ready to be sliced or chopped or minced or whatever was needed to make the dishes her diners had ordered in addition to her spit-roast torso.

“Good girl.” The chef smiled at her as he put the arm down on the trolley and lifted up the cauterizing iron. “Barely even a peep! Now, sorry about this!” He pushed the red hot metal onto the open would where he had sliced her arm off just below the tie. The watching girls clapped and cheered, shouting encouragement both to the chef and to Kerry herself. Although she could not help but let out a small yelp of pain, muted by the gag to little more than a squeak, Kerry felt pleased that she had the company of the potential meat-girls and that they were enjoying the show.

Before she had even really processed the fact that she was missing one arm and that the smell of bacon was actually her own burned and sizzled flesh, scorched to seal the would, her second arm was off and the chef was now walking around the table to remove her legs. It was here that the straps across her chest and belly really came into their own as, just as he had explained it would, her traumatised body starting to buck and thrash, tying to pull her legs out of harms way but it was no use. Taking only a little longer than her arms, the expertly experienced chef sawed Kerry’s shapely legs off just below the hip and sealed the wounds with the iron, leaving her a limbless torso, strapped securely to the angled table and topped with a quietly sobbing but still very pretty red-haired head.

“There you go!” He smiled as he removed the ball-gag and walked around her snipping the cable-ties with a pair of surgical snips. “Wasn’t so bad, was it? You took it better than a lot of girls!”

“Thanks!” Kerry smiled weakly but genuinely happy to receive the praise.

“Now your body’s probably going to go into shock.” he explained, “You’ll feel shivery and weak, that’s all quite normal. If it gets too bad before I get back, just give one of the assistants a shout and they’ll bring you a blanket but honestly, as well as you took that, I think you’re going to be fine.”

“Where are you going?” Kerry asked as he lowered the table back to a horizontal position and released the straps holding her down. The naked, limbless teen felt a wave of relief was over what was left of her body.

“Gotta take these over and get them processed.” he explained, patting one of her severed legs on the trolley. “Shouldn’t take long, that team know what they’re doing. I’ll be back with the spit. Just try to relax for the next few minutes.” As Kerry nodded, and rested her head back against the polished wood, the two visitors ran close to speak to her again.

“Woah that was awesome!” The younger girl congratulated her.

“Thanks!” Kerry chuckled, “Glad you enjoyed the show!”

“It was so cool!” the older girl enthused before looking at her newly-exposed chest with interest. “You have really nice boobs!” She complimented the teen. “Mind if I…?” She held out a tentative hand.

“Go ahead!” laughed Kerry. “I’d return the favour but… you know!” She twitched her shoulder-stumps, making the younger girls laugh. As the older of the two girls reached out to give her left breast a squeeze, Kerry found herself checking out their own chests with curiosity. The younger girl was completely flat-chested with dark pink nipples standing out against her pale skin while the older girl, who’s skin was more honey-coloured, had the pointy beginnings of breasts, the way Kerry remembered hers being about a year ago. Her own were a little sore after being squashed by the strap but the feeling of having them fondled was nice and she couldn’t help wondering how they would taste once cooked.

“So?” the sisters’ mum walked over, a broad smile on her face, closely followed by her husband and the assistant. “What did you think?”

“It was awesome!” the young girl enthused.

“Way awesome!” the older girl agreed and raised her sister.

“Not put you off wanting to be meat then?”

“No way!” both girls spoke practically in unison. Kerry couldn’t help smiling.

“You want to tell them or should I?” their asked their mum, giving the expectant-faced girls a cheeky wink.

“Go ahead!” His wife laughed. “It’s your friends who are paying for it!”

“What, Daddy?” the younger girl who, despite the warnings, only seemed to have a few tiny splashes of blood on her body while her older sister appeared completely clean, asked.

“Yeah! What is it?” insisted the older girl.

“Well,” the dad began slowly, clearly enjoying his big moment and drawing it out for as long as possible, “you know how we said if you liked what you saw today we’d talk about letting you get cooked?”

“Yeah?”

“So?” the twelve year old asked impatiently, “Can we?”

“Let’s just say you don’t need to but your clothes back on!” their dad informed them with a triumphant grin.

“You mean…?” The older girl stammered.

“Tonight?” Her younger sister finished the sentence.

“Yup! We have a reservation in, oh,” he glanced ostentatiously at his watch, “about two hours. About fifteen of our friends are on the way. If you hadn’t been up for it after all, the restaurant had a couple of girls on stand-by for us but I really didn’t think that was going to be necessary.”

“You’re going to eat us tonight?” the older sister asked again, not quite able to process what she was being told, “In two hours?”

“Well… probably closer to three once you’re cooked and everything but, yeah!”

“Happy?” their mum asked, not really needing to be told but seeking the clarification anyway. By way of answer, both girls pounced forward and practically drowned both parents in hugs and kisses.

“I think they’re happy!” the dad laughed, giving the older girl a pat on her bottom. “We’d better let the assistant know!”

“Did you hear that?” The younger girl ran back over to Kerry. “We’re getting cooked tonight too!”

“Yeah I heard!” Kerry grinned. Their reaction had been pretty hard to miss and she was pretty sure everyone in the building now knew about their parents’ dinner plans! “That’s really cool! I hope you’re delicious!”

“You too!” The girls looked back at Kerry, waving and blowing kisses as they were led away by the assistant to begin the first stages of their prep. She was not alone for long, however, as Jeff very soon returned carrying a sharp metal pole over his shoulder.

“Right!” He grinned as he set it down. “Let’ get you flipped over and ready for your big moment, shall we?” It took him no effort at all to turn the limbless girl over onto her belly. It felt strange, simply rolling like that with no arms in the way. She winced a little as, for just a second, most of her remaining body-weight was pressing one of her shoulder-stumps into the wood but it was over as soon as it began and she was very quickly able to feel relatively comfortable again – as comfortable as it’s possible to feel with four fresh amputation wounds and your breasts squashed against a wooded table, that is.

“We’re going in the back door.” The chef explained and it took Kerry a moment to realise that this meant the spit would be pushed through bottom rather than her vagina. “You’ve got such a nice, plump fillet I don’t want to risk damaging it. Don’t worry,” he patted her left buttock, “the stabiliser has to go in the other hole so you shouldn’t be left unsatisfied!” Kerry smiled politely and braced herself – this was really it!

The sensation of the thick but surprisingly warm spit entering her was merely uncomfortable at first, like trying to pass a big poo but in reverse! As the oiled metal slid further in, however, the pain began. Not only was her young anus being forced wider than it had ever been before but the sharp tip was tearing its way through her body on its way to her mouth. An intense, burning sensation travelled up through her body, following the path of the spit and, for the first time, she did let out a scream, only to have that scream almost immediately silenced as the spit tore through the back of her throat and emerged, sharp and bloody, out her mouth.

“There we go!” Jeff patted her behind again in what seemed to be intended as a comforting gesture, then slid the stabiliser up the pole and inserted the rod into the teen’s vagina. Since she had no arms or legs to anchor to the spit, the stabiliser had to be a little thicker than standard but he was sure that she would not complain even if she were in a position to!

The spit in position, he called to one of the male assistants to help carry her over to the charcoal pit that was ready and waiting for her. Kerry felt the stabilising rod wiggle inside her with every step the men took and, given how fast her heart was already beating and the endorphins her brain had flooded itself with when it sensed her body coming under attack, Kerry reached orgasm by the time they placed her over the heat, the jolt as the ends of the spit were dropped onto the supports and locked into place just pushing her ever further into ecstatic euphoria!

It was an orgasm that was to last the rest of her life. The pretty redhead was barely conscious of the heat as the spit began to turn, keeping the makeshift dildo mobile in her tight, thirteen year old pussy as she rotated over to coals. Her body had already endured so much trauma in the past fifteen minutes or so that it put up little to no resistance as she drifted into euphoric oblivion. Kerry’s final thought was to wonder how she would know when she reached Heaven as she could not imagine it feeling any better than they way she felt in that, her very last moment of life.

THE END