At the centre of the table was a whole leg, the foot still attached, on a wooden stand like a serrano ham. There was a honey-roast thigh with pineapple slices, thick slices of belly, stubby links of sausage with three different seasonings – sweet chilli, apple and leek, and bacon-wrapped chipolatas, roasted buttocks arranged on the platter to look like a full rump as if Laura were bending over under the table and sticking her backside up through a hole. There was a large bowl of chilli-con-carne, mince in a bolognaise sauce and a dish of meat-balls in a rich tomato sauce. What drew Helen’s eye most, however, was a dish with one delicious roast breast in the middle, Laura’s left, she thought, with the other sliced very fine and arranged around it so the plate resembled a flower.

There were other dishes too that Helen would never have expected, such as a steak and kidney pie, slices of tongue, cornish pasties and pulled Laura-pork in a black bean sauce. There were even racks of ribs in a sticky barbecue sauce and two different types of curry. Basically, if it could be made from a pig or a cow, it had been made from Laura! It was quite amazing, Helen thought, how much usable meat could come from just one girl! At least nobody was likely to go home hungry the next day with twelve of them on the menu!

“Excuse me, Miss?” one of the smartly-dressed young women leaned in to speak to Helen. “I understand you were the meat’s best friend?”

“Yes, I think so!” Helen smiled up at her, noticing a small, covered plate in her hand.

“We’ve prepared this specially for you.” the student smiled happily. “We couldn’t bring ourselves to chop it up and there’s no real fair way to share it so we decided between us that you should have it!” She set the plate down in front of the intrigued meat-girl and removed the cover with a flourish. Helen gasped as she looked down and saw Laura’s plump, delicious vulva, roasted a golden brown, the skin ever so slightly crispy and seasoned with herbs. The girls either side of her leaned in and grinned, exclaiming as to how delicious it looked and smelled and Helen was pleased to see Phil come over with his camera and get a shot of it set in front of her. Although the other girls were all eagerly helping themselves from the many, many serving dishes set before them, assisted by the caterers who carved the meat on request, Helen could not wait to try the unique treat before her.

With her fine silver fork she pierced the crispy skin then carefully cut into the delicate meat. The silver knife cut through it like butter, revealing the tender, pink meat beneath. Having enjoyed the ham with her melon as a starter, she had a bit of an idea what to expect taste-wise, but was not prepared for the bust of flavour that filled her mouth as she chewed on the perfectly-cooked meat! She remembered the conversation with Laura where they had giggled about whether this particular cut would taste better raw or cooked and, much as she had enjoyed going down on her friend and pleasuring her with her tongue, she had to admit that the taste of the roasted meat which still carried a hint of Laura’s natural juices, could not be beaten!

Hungrily, she cut another piece and savoured the taste of the tender meat as she chewed. Would hers be as good, she wondered? Would being cooked with the spit through it make a difference to the taste or texture? She hoped the tender, delicate skin would not burn or dry out against the hot metal – that would be such a waste! Four more such bites and the delicious, appetising and much-admired cut of unmistakable girl-meat was gone. Taking her full-size plate now, Helen piled it high with a little of everything, wanting to enjoy the mixed flavours of the sides as well as the meat but of course wanting to give her friend’s butchered body priority. Will assistance from one of the students, she took a thick slice of the full breast, lucky enough to happen to ask at just the right time to get the piece with the nipple – the nipple she had so enjoyed sucking on recently. Over a mix of rice and pasta she poured some chilli and added a couple of meat-balls. Then then helped herself to one of each type of sausage, a piece of belly, some slices from the whole, smoked leg and of course a good thick slice of rump! The plates were large and there was plenty of room for a dollop of macaroni cheese, portions of each kind of potato and a scoop or two of each vegetable, all topped with gravy made from Laura’s own stock.

“What have you got there?” she asked Mr Langford after a while, seeing something like a small egg-cup set before him, and one before his wife. In them were small white-ish pink balls – peeled lichees perhaps? After asking, she brought the fork to her mouth and took the piece of breast complete with the pea-sized nipple. It has a different texture to the rest of the breast-meat which had been soft and creamy. It was chewy, but not in an unpleasant way. Almost like a savoury jelly-tot!

“An eyeball!” the friendly man who, despite his position of authority within the girls’ lives, had always had a much more relaxed relationship with them than the actual teachers. “Let’s see how it is!” As Helen and several of the other girls watched with intrigue, the couple scooped the treats out with their small silver tea-spoons and popped them into their mouth. Mr Langford chewed thoughtfully for a moment then his face broke into a broad grin.

“It’s good then?” Helen asked with a grin of her own. Mr Langford nodded enthusiastically as he chewed and swallowed. “Wow!” Helen chuckled as much to herself as to anyone else who might be listening, “They really weren’t kidding about nothing being wasted!”

“Excuse me?” she waved to a pair of students who were standing by, waiting to offer assistance to any of the naked girls who needed. The young man smiled and came over like a waiter in a restaurant.

“Yes, Miss?” He smiled. “What can I do for you? Can I carve you some more rump?”

“Of course!” the naked teen giggled. “But I actually had a question too, if I may?”

“Go ahead!” grinned the boy, picking up the carving set and cutting a couple more thick slices for the redhead.

“I was wondering what you did with Laura’s bones?” The topic of what would happen to the meat-girls’ mortal remains after the feast had never actually come up. Helen supposed that she would not be given a conventional funeral and it was pretty likely, by the end of the next day, that nobody would be able to tell for sure which bones belonged to which tribute but she wondered if they would all be buried together? Or simply disposed of like other food waste?

“Well a few of them are still with the meat,” the young man pointed out, “like the ribs for example. Most were boiled up in the soup you had to start and we’ll use them for decoration tomorrow, to add a sense of authenticity to the scene.” Helen grinned at this idea, it sounded fun! She hoped at least some of hers would be kept to use in either art or drama lessons.

“What about her skull?” she asked. “I guess you’re not preserving hear head as a trophy if you took out the brain and the eyeballs! Can’t think of a way to do that neatly!”

“No indeed!” chuckled the student. “Most of the meat from her face was used, mostly in the sausages and chilli. The pieces of the skull went in the soup to boil off any meat left on them. It will make a nice art project I’d have thought!”

“Do you think I could see?” asked Helen, filling her mouth with delicious Laura-meat once more, this time in the form of one of the meat-balls.

“I’ll see what I can do!” smiled the young man. She saw him talk quietly with his colleague then disappear inside. All the girls and their chaperones were tucking in happily, most on their third plate-full and some even on their fourth, while Phil and his friend with the video camera made sure that everything was properly recorded. The dishes on the table were certainly starting to diminish and the serrano ham had been stripped to the bone, with only the foot left on the end and looking rather comical. The breast was entirely gone, both the one that had started whole and the sliced one that surrounded it. There was a little rump and thigh left but surely that would not last much longer! Although the honey-roast thigh, the juicy rump and the apple-seasoned sausages were her favourite, there was really nothing served up made from Laura’s meat that she did not enjoy!

Hoping her eyes were not bigger than her tummy, Helen topped up her empty plate with french fries, macaroni cheese, one more of each of the sausages and a scoop of meat balls and was happily munching when the young man returned with something off-white and round in his hands.

“Here it is!” he smiled, setting it down on the table. The other girls sat close by clamoured to see what it was. It was a skull in three pieces – the lower jaw, the main body of the skull with a fairly careful-looking saw cut just above the eyes so that the top out the skull could be removed to form a sort of bowl. Having been boiled, it was as entirely stripped of flesh and looked just like any number of skulls that Helen had seen in museums, although she could not help noticing how shiny and perfect the teeth were. It was a little smaller than she expected as she studied it looking for traces of her friend’s features.

“Well, would you look at that!” she chuckled, lifting the top of the skull off and studying it.

“Hey, I had an idea!” Phil cut in, coming over with his camera in hand. Helen looked at him with friendly curiosity. “How about, when you’re done eating, we get a couple of photos of you with Laura? Excuse me?” He turned to the student who has brought the skull. “Can the top be used as a bowl?”

“I guess so?” the student frowned a little. “It should probably be varnished as any liquid is going to soak into the brain, but it can be done.”

“But what about for a photo?” Phil persisted. “If we put, say, some of the gravy in it, would it hold for long enough?”

“Should do!” the boy shrugged and smiled. “Sounds like a cool image!”

“Here!” Helen grinned, picking up one of the few sausages left on the platter, one with sweet chilli seasoning, once the student waiter had gone. “Try some Laura!” She held it up to him and Phil leaned forward. Giggling, she pushed the sausage into his mouth and he bit it in half then grinned while he chewed. “She’s good, huh?” giggled Helen. “Speaking of sausages,” she smiled slyly, “once you’re done taking pictures, I don’t suppose you’d be up for another afternoon stroll in the woods?”

“Wow!” Helen chuckled, having finally eaten her absolute fill of Laura and patting her very full belly with both hands. “I don’t think I’m gonna be doing much frolicking for a while, sorry!” she looked up at Phil with an apologetic smile.

“No problem!” laughed the young photographer. “But maybe we can do some shots with the skull?” Helen looked intently at her friend’s flesh-stripped head. She had managed to stack the pieces together on the table to make a complete skull once more. But try as she might, she still could not relate the grinning off-white visage to her butchered friend, any more than she could the meat she had just enjoyed. Sure, she knew in an academic sense where it had all come from but there was a disconnect in her head. She supposed this was the same disconnect that allowed most people, many of whom considered themselves animal-lovers, to eat meat at all. She wondered if it would be the same for the diners at the feast, having watched her and the other girls cook and able to look at what remained of her carcass while they munched on her meat?

“Sure!” She stood up, swinging her leg over the bench. “Just try to keep my belly out of shot for a bit!”

“Oh you look great!” Phil assured her with a chuckle.

“Good enough to eat?” the naked teen asked with a giggle, striking a provocative pin-up pose.

“Absolutely!” laughed her photographer friend. Some of the other girls had got up from the table and were standing around chatting or taking another look at the cooking equipment for the next day. Others were still sat nibbling on the last little morsels on their plates or just relaxing. Helen picked up the skull with one hand on top and the other underneath to hold it together. “Start by holding it up in one hand and looking at it,” Phil suggested, “like Shakespeare!”

Turning so that the line of trees would be behind her in the shot rather than the cannibal village or table where many girls were still sat, she held Laura’s skull carefully out in her left hand and gazed into the empty eyes.

“Alas, poor Yorik!” she quoted with a giggle. “I know him, Horatio. A man of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy! Sorry,” she turned to Phil who was clicking away behind his camera., “Couldn’t resist!”

“Don’t worry!” chuckled the photographer, “I don’t think I could have either! Ever seen Highlander Two? It totally ruined that scene in Hamlet for me! Well, not ruined, but changed how I think of it forever!”

“Farewell, dear Shit-head!” Helen gave a sweeping bow with arms outstretched, the skull still balanced in her left hand. Her perky little boobs bounced appealing as she stood back up, giggling.

“That’s the one!” Phil confirmed, laughing. “Now try holding it in front of your chest.” Helen did as he asked. “Great! Tilt your head down towards it but look up at me with your eyes. Great!” He took a burst of shots. “Now, can we find something dark that you can drink out of it?”

“There’s the red wine sauce?” Helen suggested helpfully, looking over at the table, “There’s some of that left I’m sure!”

“Perfect!” grinned Phil. “It will look like blood! I want to get a shot of you drinking it kinda like a vampire. I might try converting it to black and white, or really over-saturating the colours.”

“That’s kinda dark isn’t it?” Helen tilted her head on one side. “I mean, sounds really cool and I’m totally up for it but I thought Mrs Henderson wanted more Victorian-style frolicking nymph pictures, not goth stuff?”

“Oh these shots aren’t for her!” Phil admitted. “I probably should have explained. I’m in a metal band and we’re getting our first album together at the moment but we’ve not sorted out a cover yet. I’d love to put you on it!”

“Oh cool! You’re in a band?” Helen grinned. “I must… oops, no!” she giggled, prompting a quizzical look from Phil. “I was gonna say I must come see you play some time,” she explained with more giggling. “But that’s gonna be kinda tricky, my diary’s a bit full from tomorrow! But hey, go me, right?” she grinned. “Making history, album cover model and I fucked a rock star!”

“Well I don’t know about star…” Phil chuckled. “Maybe one day, eh? But yeah, I guess it’s been a pretty eventful week or so for you! Don’t forget internet sensation when this footage gets out there! Wouldn’t surprise me if they make enough to open a second school!”

“Hmm so I get famous with none of the down-sides! I like that!” grinned Helen. “No paparazzi hounding me or ending up in rehab! I mean, sure, I’ll be dead but…”

“Gone but definitely not forgotten!” Phil assured her. “Let’s try that shot then!” He found the gravy boat with the red wine sauce in it and carefully poured some into the bowl formed from the top of the skull. “Here.” He smiled. “Hold this in front of you first and look up at me like before.” Helen did as she was told. “Great! Now bring it to your mouth and drink from it. I’m going to be snapping away so just keep going and, if you can, let it trickle out the sides of your mouth, okay?”

Helen raised the bowl to her mouth and began to sip. While the sauce had been delicious as a condiment poured over Laura’s meat, on its own it was far too strong to really enjoy but, thankfully, Phil’s instruction provided the answer. The naked teen kept her lips together as she tipped the bowl higher, causing the blood-red sauce to trickle either side of her chin and splash onto her chest.

“Perfect!” Phil grinned when his excited model lowered the bowl from her mouth, looking proud of herself. “That’s gonna be the cover shot, I think, but there’s so many good ones! Maybe I’ll make a little pull-out booklet or something for inside the case?”

“You know,” Helen suggested, “if you let word get out that your cover model is one of the Hamilton Tributes, you’ll probably get loads more sales! Oh!” She blushed a little, slightly concerned she may have offended her friend who was had gone out of his way to make her last couple of days special. “Not that you wouldn’t sell well anyway, I just…”

“Oh no, it’s fine!” Phil reassured her with a chuckle. “Everyone needs a gimmick to get noticed! Now you’d better clean yourself up a little bit before we do the rest, sorry!” The other girls had all now finished and got up from the table.

“Here,” Mrs Langford smiled, having come over to watch the somewhat surprising photo-shoot, “let me!” She took a packet of lemon wet-wipes out of her handbag and wiped first Helen’s face then her chest, giving the sauce-spattered boobs possibly a little more attention than they strictly needed. “There!” she grinned. “Good enough to eat!” Helen giggled and thanked her.

Unlike the photo-shoot for the newspaper, directed by the charismatic journalist, the pictures taken by Phil and his colleague did not focus on or even feature the cooking equipment or the fact that the girls were going to be cooked the next day – the pictures and video footage, once the meal was finished, was of the beautiful nymphs frolicking in the idyllic grounds of the school. Some of the girls were a little shy at first or unable to ignore the cameras, unable to help looking at them or posing or at least behaving self-consciously. But eventually they all relaxed and played as happily as they did on any normal warm afternoon.