Chapter One
Cravings

You know how men say pregnant women get cravings for strange meals? Well, trust me. It's 100% true, at least from my experience. Three of my eleven wives are pregnant right now, and they all want very specific food for tonight's meal.

Emma, my first wife, is twenty two and wants Japanese. That's not all that odd, but she wants one with big tits and a tiny waist, and “She needs to be cute, not pretty!”. I little specific, but still, not too bad.

Debby is my youngest wife. She's fifteen and won't except anything older than her as a meal, so she wants a loli no older than nine years old, and “She has to be sexy.” Veal is pretty easy to get, and I know of a couple stalls in the market that I trusted to have healthy young stock. I'd hit them both and hope I could find a 'sexy' veal, whatever that was.

And then there was Abby. She is nineteen, a redhead with a perfect body and heart shaped face, and secretly my favorite wife. She's farther along than the other two, eight and a half months into her pregnancy, where the other two pregnant wives were somewhere around five months along. And what was my Abby craving, you might ask? Well she wanted to have a version of herself for dinner! She wanted a redheaded gravid meal, seven to nine months along in her pregnancy.

On top of their special needs for the main ingredients, they all wanted the women cooked in specific ways. First off, they all wanted the food cooked while still live. No big deal, seeing as we cooked most meals that way.

Abby wanted hers spit-roasted vertically, with an anal spit and her arms unbound. She said “So the meat can play with herself. You know we taste better when we cum a lot while cooking!” She was right, of course. We tried to get all our meals to orgasms as much as possible while they cooked.

Emma wanted her meal served raw, sushi style. I'd have to remember to pick up the drugs that would keep the meal alive and not screaming for that one. Maybe try to pick up some 'Reverse Rush' to turn it's pain into pleasure, but it was expensive and rare around here.

Debby said she would “let me know” how she wanted the loli prepared, once she had a chance to see her, which was typical for my flighty teen wife.

I bet you're thinking “Wow! That's a lot a food for just twelve people.”, and you'd be right... If there was only a dozen of us. That is very much NOT the case. Sure, I've only got eleven wives, but I also have more than twenty daughters. And unlike a lot of the families out there, we only eat the daughters that ask to be meals! Plus, five years ago, my Abby gave me a beautiful baby boy (hence, the reason for her being my favorite). I've only been in town for a few years, which is why I don't have more wives and kids. One male that I know that's lived here his whole life has over fifty wives! He said he lost count of how many kids he had at five HUNDRED.

Twins are very common in our post WW3 world, so between seven wives that became gravid every two or three years, that made for a bunch of kids! That's how humans had been able to bounce back after that war. Best guess had the human population at somewhere around six billion today. Not quit as high as before the war, but that's only because one of our sexes is also our main food source.

Shit. I should introduce myself! My name is Garrett and I'm a man, which means I'm on the city counsel, along with every other man in the city, all hundred ninety eight of us. Our city is named Madinat Alluhum ('Meat City'), and has a population of about 200,000. More than half the women are considered 'unclaimed livestock'. That just means those women haven't been claimed as mates or playthings of the men of the city, or they're not worth being turned into food. We men tend to only want to breed or eat the more attractive females of the population. Which is why I'm going to the market to get the women my wives want for dinner, along with a couple more to make sure all my kids eat well today.

I put some clothes on (we go nude a lot of the time at home) and clipped my seal onto me belt, along with some money for purchases. Then headed out after kissing a couple of my kids that demanded attention, goodbye. As I stepped out of the building I called home on the block I owned, I was hit with a wall of hot air. I started sweating immediately in the hot summer sun, and within seconds my shirt was sticking to my skin.

Ignoring the heat as best I could, I made my way down to the end of my block, and turned towards Market Square. Around me, almost ever woman that I passed shot me a longing look, wanting me to take them home, either to bed or be eaten by me. Any other day, I might very well have just claimed a few of them for my family's dinner table, but my lovely, and very pregnant wives, wanted what they wanted, so those random women with their longing looks, would just have to wait until after my wives gave birth, and their cravings died down. And another thing about those women? They were almost all of them totally nude, most only having something covering their heads and shoulders in these burning temperatures.

Twenty minutes of making my way through the crowded streets of Madinat Alluhum later, and I arrived at the busy city market, where you could buy almost anything from anywhere around the world. The first shop stall I stopped at was one of the condiments stalls. It was my best bet at getting all the drugs I needed to prepare tonight's meals.