Pt 7

“I’ll do it!” Jenny grinned, handing her purse to Charlie. Seeing the ginger girl’s head come off like that had been such a rush and the danger she was putting herself in thrilled her. As the two naked little girls were let through a gate in the counter round into the game area, they saw a cart with three freshly-decapitated naked bodies on it.

“Where do the heads go?” Amy ask curiously, seeing how the redhead’s was added to a row of others just under the counter.

“The taxidermist buys them from us,” the woman in the waistcoat explains, “makes them into trophies and whatnot.”

“I guess the girls get used for meat?” Jenny asked, imagining that most of those who lost their heads would end up cooked like the girls they had seen when they dropped off the burgers. The woman nodded. “But what about the boys?” She was genuinely puzzled. She knew there had been some call over the years for boys to have the same opportunities as girls when it came to being cooked and eaten but tests had shown that their meat was simply not of the same quality or taste as that of girls.

In fact, her dad had shown her a video clip the first time she had asked about this very issue. It had been a televised event where a panel of judges consisting of celebrity chefs, food critics and other such people that were deemed to know about food participated in a blind taste-test. The intent had been to show whether there really was a discernable difference in meat quality based on age and gender or whether the perceived difference was a result of cultural bias.

In order for the test to be as fair as possible, the meat had all come from one volunteer family consisting of mother, father, and non-identical twin siblings – one boy and one girl. The family had been introduced at the beginning of the show and she remembered giggling at the willies of the dad and brother and wondering if they tasted like sausages. She recalled that the children were called Max and Helen and that they were nine years old but she couldn’t remember the parents’ names.

Anyway, while the presenter discussed the history of cannibalism in general and the legacy of Sidney Roebuck in particular, the family were taken away, slaughtered and pieces of their meat prepared in identical ways, four different styles of cooking, ready to be presented to the judges. To prevent bias or collusion, the samples were numbered differently for each judge so that only the adjudicator would know which meat had come from which volunteer. Assurances were given, she recalled, that the remaining meat would not go to waste but would be donated to a homeless shelter – she remembered this particularly because she’d giggled imagining the surprise a homeless person might have finding a willy in his sandwich or floating in his stew when everyone knew that people-meat came from girls!

The results had been much as expected, with the only slight surprise that the meat from the mature man, the dad, had ranked higher than that of the boy but only just. The little girl’s meat had unquestioningly been deemed the best, followed by the mother’s, with the note that, while it was the second best, it was a considerable drop-off from the top spot. The man meat was described as maybe being okay for a stew or ground up with lots of other ingredients, as long as there was plenty of seasoning to mask the taste, but the boy meat was described by all the judges as close to inedible and none of them had any desire to even try finishing the dishes made from it. Jenny had felt a little sorry for Max, giving his meat only for it to be described so poorly but at least, she reflected, he had helped to answer the question and settle the debate!

“Hmm,” the woman frowned, slightly surprised by the question, “I think they get ground up for pet-food or something? I know sometimes the zoo buys them but I don’t know the details.”

Two other volunteers from the crowd had stepped forward now, apparently a girlfriend and boyfriend of around thirteen or fourteen. Amy and Jenny were, of course, already naked but the giggling young couple quickly stripped off. Jenny couldn’t help wondering if it was the first time they had seen each other naked and were using the game as an excuse for doing so? The boy certainly seemed to be liking what he saw and both Jenny and Amy thought them a very sweet couple and hoped that neither would lose their heads.

With one plinth still to fill, the woman helped the volunteers get into position. Jenny saw that either side of the hole for the head were sharp blades on heavy springs with wooden handles on the back. From what she could tell, if the target was hit, catches would release, allowing the blades to spring out until they met in the middle, severing the head of whoever was in the box. It seemed like quite a cool idea and fairly simple mechanism. Assuming she survived this game, which she thought she had reasonable odds of doing, Jenny thought she would recommend something like it to her dad. It could be fun, she thought, to give meat-girls a button to set it off themselves – she was sure plenty of the girls her dad processed would enjoy the chance of cutting off their own head!

A padded, plastic-coated cushion made it comfortable to kneel in the box and, apart from the wooden board that held her neck in place and the generally cramped space, there were no restraints of any sort inside, leaving contestants free to relax or even to masturbate if they wanted to.

Those in the boxes, not to mention those waiting to throw the balls, were a little impatient waiting for the final plinth to be filled but eventually a group of teenagers, maybe fifteen years old, approached. With a little prodding and prompting from her mostly male companions, a busty teen girl agreed to take the final spot and glared at her friends as they watched her undress with wolf-whistles and cat-calls. Once she was in place, the game began.

Jenny felt one or two balls bounce off her wooden prison. The position of the sun made it hard to see who was doing the throwing but it seemed to be mostly larger figures, probably the rest of the group of teenagers. She could feel her pulse quickening, at any moment a wooden ball could bring about the end of her life and cut short her plans of a career in the meat preparation and selling industry! Most of the balls, however, seemed to be flying in the direction of the middle plinth where the older teen and her large breasts were contained! It seemed her companions had no intention of letting her leave with her head.

“Hey!” the girl yelled out over the laughter and whooping, “Quit throwing ALL of them at me! There’s other heads here too you know!” But just at that moment, a hurled missile found it’s mark. “Fu..” the girl began to swear as she heard the click but the rest of the word was cut off, along with her head which went spinning up into the air, to the great cheers of those watching.

“Yes!” the boy who had thrown the winning ball high-fived the tomboyish girl next to him. “Barbecued Becca boobs are on the menu!” Jenny couldn’t help chuckling a little at this as she, along with the other four survivors, were released.

“Middle plinth looks like the one to avoid!” Amy observed, rubbing her slightly sore neck as they collected their participation prizes.

“Yeah!” laughed Jenny. “I’d say so!”

“That was pretty intense,” Amy told her, “but I loved it! Come on!” she grinned as they were let back around the front of the stand to rejoin their friends and Becca’s voluptuous body was added to the meat cart. “Let’s go see what else we can find!”