CHAPTER FOUR

With the performance of Melony’s butchering over and a little time left to explore before the manager came to collect them, the quartet of youngsters began to look around the rest of the kitchen. Tiffany had been given a basic tour earlier in the day, before opening, so that she would know her way around and be able to answer basic questions about the equipment and procedures, she had not really comprehended just how many girls there would be in various stages of preparation on what was after all a relatively quiet early evening.

When she had been shown around, the only meat had been butchered cuts in the refrigerators and walk-in freezer, with the possible exception of the breasts, pretty much impossible to tell apart from any other kind of butchered meat. But now the kitchen was bustling with the white-uniformed chefs and cooks, the kitchen assistants in their black polo shirts and dozens upon dozens of naked little and teen girls being led around or penned in waiting areas.

Although she had memorised a lot of the information and was ready to make a valiant effort at answering any questions that may arise, Tiffany found, as she had expected, that Ollie and his sister were pretty happy just to wander around and look at what was going on – now that the kitchen was up and running, there was really very little that was not self-explanatory. Although enjoying watching the younger children, it was Becky that she was most interested to keep sneaking glances at, wondering if the meat-girl would be getting off seeing other girls prepped and cooked or whether she’d be too distracted by the thought of her own imminent date with the wok to pay much attention. It seemed, however, that the attractive brunette was every bit as fascinated by the goings on in the busy Sidney’s kitchen as the sweet brother and sister who were on the official tour.

The ovens, set a little way up the wall rather than on the floor, seemed especially fascinating to Lucy. She peered in at the roasting girls inside, some of whom were tied on their backs like huge turkeys, others sort of crouched with their chins on folded arms and meaty rumps sticking up while others seemed to have their backs arched backwards with their legs folded beneath them and their arms fixed behind their backs.

“What’s going on with her?” she asked, pointing to an oven in which a girl of about eight, slim and athletic with a completely flat-chest apart from her perky pink nipples, had apparently just been put in to roast. Her buttered skin was barely pink, compared to the golden brown of the girls who were closer to being ready to serve, and her brow beaded with sweat while she breathed heavily, her lungs struggling to find enough oxygen in the hot air of the glowing oven.

“Ah!” grinned Tiffany, happy to be able to share a little of her knowledge, “That’s a roasting frame! It’s good for helping girls to cook evenly, but you have to be pretty flexible!” she added with a giggle. “It’s often used for younger and smaller girls.”

“Girls like me you mean?” the cute little blonde asked brightly.

“Yes, exactly!” Tiffany chuckled. “If you were going in the oven, they’d probably suggest something like this for you!” Lucy smiled and nodded thoughtfully as she looked at the pretty young roaster, wondering what her story might be and how she had come to find herself on the menu.

“Most of the girls you see being whole-roasted in here,” Tiffany explained, enjoying her role as tour-guide, “are for private parties. It’s possible for diners in the main restaurant to order a whole girl but generally they are encourage either to order individual dishes from the menu, most of which are made with butchered meat, or to use the carvery which is where Candy is probably cooking right now,” she grinned, “and where Maria will be roasted when she finishes her performance!” Ollie blushed thinking of the beautiful meat-girl who had given him her virginity at the same time as taking his. She had seemed ever so nice and he was a little sad he’d not get to spend any more time with her but hoped that he’d been able to make her last hour or so of life happier and more fulfilling!

“So most of these girls are getting eaten by their families?” Ollie asked as the party moved on from the ovens to the rotisseries and spits, the rotisseries enclosed in longer, wall-mounted ovens which bombarded the girl inside with heat from above, below and to one side, and the spits arranged in two rows of ten with narrow walkways between which Tiffany led them down. These girls were roasting over heated panels beneath them which worked the same way as the artificial coals in the carvery area with without the cosmetic design.

“Some of them, yes.” Tiffany nodded, feeling the warmth from the roasting panels over which there were currently twelve girls slowly turning, all apparently dead and not too far off being ready to serve. “But there’s a special menu that private parties can order from. Girls sign up for it and their photos and information are put on the web-site for people to choose from, kinda like a dating site really. Once they get picked, they’re given notice to report in for cooking. Usually it’s about twenty four hours but I did hear about one girl who was working in the mermaid pool when she got picked and was taken straight to the kitchen! It’s very unusual but apparently it was a last-minute booking from a group of businessmen and they just asked to pick from whoever was available in the building at the time! This wasn’t here, ‘though.” she admitted. “Still, must have been pretty cool and exciting for her!”

“I was thinking about signing up for that!” Becky informed the rest of the party with a cheeky grin. “I liked the idea that the people eating me would have picked me as the tastiest out of all the girls on the site!”

“Well you sort of got your wish!” Lucy reminded her happily. “Since Ollie picked you! I think he made a great choice, by the way!” she added with a very genuine and affectionate smile, reaching out and taking the older girl’s hand, giving it a friendly squeeze.

“Thanks, honey!” Becky smiled, her cheeks a little pink for the first time that the siblings had seen. “Hope I’m really delicious for you!”

“I’m sure you will be!” Ollie assured her, feeling his willy tingle again inside his pants as he thought of the beautiful young girl cooking for him and her golden-brown body served up for his dinner. “But why did you change your mind? You were just on the general menu tonight, weren’t you? Before I chose you?”

“Yeah well they said on average it takes three months to get picked,” the naked brunette admitted with a slight chuckle, “and if a girl sits on there for longer than six, she has to get her profile and photos re-done. I was too impatient to be meat so I opted for the general menu where girls get called up about two weeks from registration!”

“That sounds better!” Lucy giggled. “I think if I decided to be meat, I couldn’t stand waiting six months to cook either!”

“So how long ago did you register?” Ollie asked, curiously.

“Nine days!” Becky grinned proudly, sticking out her developing chest. “Not bad, huh? A week and a half from registration to table!” The others agreed that this was an impressive turnaround time and Ollie was about to ask more questions about how long his special dinner had thought about wanting to be eaten and what had finally persuaded her to take the plunge but they were were all distracted by the arrival of two new and very much alive girls, presumably to occupy some of the empty roasting pits.

The girls were both around thirteen years old and, while they didn’t look alike enough to be related, they were clearly good friends from the way they were chattering and giggling together and teasing each other as they waited for spitting. One girl, the taller of the pair, was Indian or Pakistani with pale brown skin and big dark nipples on small but well-formed breasts, her long black hair in a thick pony-tail down her back. The other girl was white but tanned with dark brown hair bleached much lighter in streaks. Her chest was far less developed than her friend’s, or Becky’s for that matter, although she had a general curviness, especially of the hips, that implied she probably would have ended up quite busty given another year or two to grow. Of course, that would not happen now, but as it was she did at least sport cute, budding little titties with quite big, hard pink nipples that looked like they’d be fun to slice off once she was roasted!

While neither girl could be described as plump, both had a very pleasing meatiness about their generally slim figures and looked incredibly delicious!

“Ooh we’ve got an audience!” the blonde girl giggled and nudged her friend when she saw the little party waiting to observe their spitting. While both had clearly been recently scrubbed clean and their bodies were gleaming with the butter which had been rubbed into their skin to help it stay supple while they cooked, the remains of a black liner were clearly visible around her eyes. Although she thought it uncharitable to think so, Tiffany could not help thinking that this girl especially, and by extension her friend, seemed somewhat “trashy”, an impression that was only emphasised by her voice.

“We’d like to watch, yes please!” Lucy grinned politely, stepping forward a little. “Who are you cooking for?”

“The teachers and governors of our school!” the darker girl replied with a chuckle, her accent very similar to the blonde’s. “It’s some sort of annual party and this year they’re having it here so… lucky us, huh?”

“Did you volunteer?” Becky asked, intrigued, sharing Tiffany’s impression of the girls and not seeing either of them as likely “teachers’ pets”, the kinds of sweet girls whose hands would be the first up when volunteers were asked for.

“Depends what you call volunteering!” the blonde rolled her eyes. “If I’d got expelled my dad and step-mum would have had me butchered anyway so when I was given the choice it seemed more fun to go this way! I made sure my mum got the money ‘though!” All four listening to this story felt mixed emotions – on one hand, none of them liked the idea of a girl being cooked as any sort of punishment and wondered how bad her behaviour must have been to land her in the situation where such a choice was offered. On the other hand, she did not seem at all unhappy about her fate and seemed to be looking forward to the spit as much as any other meat-girl!

“What about you?” Lucy asked the other girl. “Did you get in trouble too?” The girl opened her mouth to answer, looking a little embarrassed, but the blonde cut her off.

“Oh come on!” she giggled. “You telling me these tits and that ass don’t belong on a plate?” She gave her friend’s round little boobs a playful squeeze then slapped her quite hard on her meaty, buttered rump. “When they asked if I could suggest someone to cook with me there was only one name I thought of, then once I’d volunteered her, I told her I’d tell her parents what we get up to behind the sports hall if she didn’t agree!” Lucy and Ollie both prepared to enquire what that might be, a question that the older girls in the group felt no need to ask, but their question was rendered unnecessary when they blonde grabbed the taller girl’s face with both hands and pulled her in close for a deep and passionate kiss. From the way the other girl’s hands explored the blonde’s body, especially her delicious young ass, there was no question about her being just as much into it.

“Guess you’re happy to cook together, then?” Tiffany asked when the young teen meat-girls finally broke off their embrace.

“The only thing better than watching this ass spit-roast,” it was the darker girl’s turn to administer the slap this time, hard enough to leave a pink mark, “is to be on the spit beside her! My parents would never have allowed it if it wasn’t for school! They’d have said it was shameful or something and if I wanted to get eaten it would have to be at some boring family wedding where I’d have to sit through a long ceremony only for my head to be cut off before I cook. That or one of my grannies’ birthday parties with all the old biddies fussing over me first and still not getting to actually cook while I’m alive! I know teachers aren’t much better,” she chuckled, “but I’ll take them over grannies and aunties any day and this way I get to cook alive!” She grabbed her friend and lover for another round of tongue-wrestling until the young man escorting them to the spits cleared his throat pointedly.

“Neither of you will get cooked if we never get you on the spit!” he reminded them, looking slightly embarrassed. Out of habit, Becky glanced at the front of his uniform slacks and was amused, although unsurprised, to see a prominent bulge. He must have seen plenty of naked girls in his time, she reasoned, but their behaviour was definitely provocative!

“True!” the blonde turned to him, stepped a little closer and smiled up at him seductively, walking her buttery fingers up his chest. “But poor Nina had never tasted boy-juice! Why don’t you let her suck you off while you spit me?”

“Um…” the young man blushed a deep crimson. “I’m afraid that’s not allowed. There’s very strict rules about…”

“You can do him if you like!” Becky laughed and Ollie suddenly felt himself propelled forward by a hand on his back. “He’s small but tasty! Reckon you’re ready to go again?” she asked the confused, aroused and embarrassed little boy. Ollie tried to stammer out a response but couldn’t find words.

“Oh yes, honey!” the blonde smiled down at him mischievously. “Don’t be shy, come with Auntie Jen!” She held out her hand and took his then guided him over to her friend. “This is Auntie Nina!” she told him. “And she’s never given any boys a special kiss before!”

“You want me to suck off a little boy?” Nina asked, apparently quite shocked, even if she had been up for making the young assistant’s shift especially memorable. “I don’t know if…”

“Oh I’m sure he’s not all that little really!” Jen laughed, kneeling down and tugging down Ollie’s trousers and underpants from behind in one go.

“So?” she giggled, reaching around from behind and pushing the tip of Ollie’s hard little willy down so that it sprang back up and bounced a few times before resuming its forty-five degree angle of standing to attention. “What are you waiting for?”

“You know,” Nina looked septically at the nine year old’s erection which was already looking rather red and sore from all the recent attention it had been getting, before casting a more longing look at the handsome kitchen assistant who was busying himself taking down a sort of low plastic bench from the wall and selecting a spit from its many identical kin on a rack, “I think I’ll pass! Anyway,” she raised an eyebrow, “how am I supposed to watch your slutty whore cunt get spitted if I’ve got my face in his belly?”

“Hey, your loss!” Jen giggled, knowing she was on borrowed time until the assistant was ready for her, “But waste not, want not!” Before he knew what was happening, and still not quite processing how he had ended up half stripped in the first place, Ollie felt Jen’s hands on his shoulders and she turned him around to face her. Next thing he knew, her full, pouty lips were around his willy and her pretty, sparkling eyes were looking up at him with a mixture of excitement and amusement.

While he had certainly enjoyed his experiences with Becky and Maria, both had been novices in the respective acts, almost as much as he was, both driven to uncharacteristic behaviour by the erotic thrill of their circumstances but Jen, by contrast, was an expert! His was not even the youngest willy she had ever sucked, having amused herself more than once at her six year old cousin’s expense while babysitting him, and it was far from the first! With her little cousin she would take him in the bath and play with him to get him physically excited before sucking him off then bribing him with extra cookies to keep their little secret, then later her uncle would drive her home and fuck her in the back of his car as he had liked to do since she was just a little older than Ollie! She was also pretty certain a big factor behind her selection for roasting and the ultimatum she was given was the number of male teachers who lived in fear that she would one day spill the beans on how she was keeping her grades up despite her lack of focus and application.

As she watched her friend suck off the little boy and the assistant putting the spitting bench into place behind her, Nina felt incredibly aroused. The rather red little willy, impressively sized as it was for Ollie’s age, had not held much appeal but she needed some form of satisfaction greater than her own fingers could provide.

“Hey cutie!” she called to Lucy, beckoning her close. “You ever licked a pussy before?”

“No,” Lucy replied honestly, sad to be disappointing the older girl, “but I just got mine licked!” she added with a smile of optimistic hopefulness, assuming it might count for something.

“So you know how it works!” Nina grinned. “Come here and give it your best shot, kid!” Obediently, the cute seven year old knelt down in front of her and began to lick the young teen’s plump, freshly shaved cunt, more like a puppy showing affection to their master than someone pleasuring a lover but, in Nina’s heightened state of arousal, it was enough and soon she was moaning, stroking the little girl’s hair and pushing her closer in. As she watched the pair of soon-to-roast teens having their wicked way with the youngsters, Tiffany felt a little uncomfortable. Of course this was not the first sexual encounter they had experienced that day but the others had felt like bonus little treats for the young visitors, this felt more predatory and the children were basically her responsibility as their guide. Still, neither seemed to be complaining and were apparently having a good time so she supposed it was not really an issue. She and Becky exchanged slightly awkward looks and half-smiles as they waited for the girls either to finish or be told to stop by the assistant.

“Okay!” he called once the bench was in place on the heating panel which was not yet activated. “Let’s have you over here, please!” Head bobbing fast, Jen held up a finger to ask him to wait then redoubled her efforts until, four or five seconds later, she felt the rather thin and meagre but no less tasty portion of Ollie cum squirt into her mouth.

As she stood up, a triumphant look on her face, leaving Ollie to pull up his own trousers, everyone expected her to swallow and wipe her mouth but instead she strode confidently up to Nina, leaned across the little girl who was still pleasuring her clumsily, grabbed her head and kissed her deeply, transferring the cum from her mouth to her friend’s as she did so!

“There!” she stood back after the kiss, finally wiping her mouth and giggling at the wide-eyed expression on Nina’s face. “Now you’ve tasted boy-juice! Okay, Mr Assistant!” she turned to the young man. “I’m ready for my date with the spit!”

After some quick instructions, Jen sat down on the end of the spitting bench, facing the small party of onlookers, then lay back so that her shoulders were at the other end of the bench, allowing her head to loll backwards. After wriggling a little to get comfortable, she confirmed that she was ready and the assistant leaned down to secure her wrists in metal shackles that popped out from the inside edge of the roasting pit. Clearly these industrial spit-roasting stations had been designed so that the whole process could be carried out in as little space as possible, unlike the much larger spitting frames that were used in the carvery area and often by caterers at outdoor parties, which were as much about spectacle as efficiency. With her hands secured in place, Jen was asked to spread her legs, which she did very willingly with a giggle, giving her small audience a great view of her plump teen cunt, glistening wet and hungry for the spit. Quickly, her ankles were secured and she was ready for the spit!

“Enjoy the show, guys!” she lifted her head to announce, grinning, seeing that little Lucy was still going to town between Nina’s legs, nicely lubricating the hole where her own spit would shortly be entering.

“Head back, please!” the assistant spoke calmly but firmly, wanting to regain control of the rather flustering situation and maintain his professionalism. Jen smiled cheekily up at him and wiggled her chest and hips a little more under the pretence of getting comfortable but did as she was told. The tip of the spit sliding inside her felt at first just like one of the many toys she had pleasured herself with over the years, starting with the one she found in her mum’s night-stand when she was six, but without the added bonus of battery-powered vibration. It was pleasantly warm, however, not cold as she had feared from looking at the shiny metal and she moaned with pleasure as she felt it stretch her out inside.

Only when the sharp tip reached the end of her vaginal canal and began to press against her cervix did she feel any sort of discomfort, a discomfort which soon turned to intense pain as the spit forced its way deeper inside. The pain, however, did nothing to negate the pleasure of the thick metal pole sliding inside her and in fact caused such an intense reaction in her nerves and brain that it made the pleasure even more powerful, not that Jen had ever been averse to a degree of pain in her sexual encounters! She let out a shriek that was as much an exclamation of pleasure as a cry of pain and Becky felt the urge to reach into Ollie’s pants once more but decided he probably needed a little rest. Instead she contented herself with another session of shameless fingering, a session that Tiffany wished she could join in with but restrained herself – she was technically at work after all!

Watching her friend spitted and knowing that she was next was making Nina more aroused than she had ever been in her life! As Lucy continued to lick, she began to massage her own small but firm and round breasts, pinching the nipples as she finally reached the orgasm she had been chasing. Jen coughed as she felt the spit reach her chest, spitting flecks of blood onto the cooking panel.

“Nearly there!” the assistant assured her, holding her down with one hand on her chest, feeling her heart beating rapidly between her tasty budding breasts, still pushing the spit through her with the other. “Keep your head back!” The blonde meat-girl could feel the spit pushing at the back of her throat now. It felt like the worst sore throat she had ever experienced, the kind where she would try to swallow unchewed toast to scratch it on the way down. Then there was a sudden burning and another cough which not only expelled a little more blood but the tip of the spit out of her mouth. She watched, fascinated despite her near delirium from the overwhelming mixture of pleasure and pain as it continued to grow like a sped-up video of a flower growing from a bulb. It was strange to feel her neck locked in place like that, unable to look up or even to turn her head from side to side.

With the spitting complete, Jen’s hands and feet were released and the clamps pushed back into their recesses in the wall of the roasting pit. She kept her feet on the floor but raised her arms and flexed her fingers to ease the cramping. It was while she was doing this that the assistant grabbed her wrists again and pulled them together in front on her, either side of the spit. He then used a thick metal cable-tie to secure them, pulling it so tight that it bit into her skin, sending another small shiver of pain through her body – pain that was now no longer distinguishable from pleasure. Next he lifted her feet and did the same with her ankles before taking a much larger strap and tightening it around her knees to clamp her legs very tightly to the spit before applying a similar on to her arms just above her elbows.

“Don’t they use a stabiliser in here?” Lucy asked curiously, dusting off her knees and turning to look at the spitted girl for the first time. She had seen some of the “big girls” spitted at the school fair and they had had smaller spits pushed into their bottoms to make sure they turned with the spit and that the pole wouldn’t just rotate inside them. She remembered it distinctly because she and her friends had giggled about it a lot and wondered what it must feel like to spend the last hour of your life feeling like you needed a big poo!

“No, there’s no need.” Tiffany explained, remembering her information from earlier. “They’re held on tightly enough but it’s less comfortable for the meat. The girls who are cooked out in the carvery with everyone watching have a stabiliser and looser cuffs to keep their arms and legs in place. It’s not so bad ‘though.” she smiled. “I went to a party once where the babysitter got roasted and they shoved big skewers through her arms and legs to hold her in place!”

“I’ve seen that too!” Becky nodded, licking her own sticky fingers now that her very intimate itch had been satisfied. “At the park near my grandparents, they’re set up to do it that way.”

Now that Jen was fully spitted, the onlookers expected the assistant to call for someone to help him lift her onto the rack but instead he leant down, took hold of the pole just beyond her feet and in front of her mouth and lifted her by himself. The sudden jolt made the spit bash against Jen’s teeth and caused the deadly internal injuries to burn with pain once more, an intense explosion of sensation which was only just beginning to dull when it was refreshed by the pole being dropped into the mounts and locked into place so that the delicious young teen could begin cooking.

“Your turn!” the assistant told Nina, lifting the bench from under Jen and placing it in the adjacent pit. “I won’t turn the heat on until they’re both spitted,” he explained to the small group, “so they should be ready at around the same time.”

“We’d love to stay and watch,” Tiffany told Nina apologetically, taking charge of the situation, “but we really need to carry on with our tour. Happy cooking ‘though!” she added with a friendly grin.

“Oh that’s okay!” Nina grinned back. “I can’t wait to get that giant metal cock inside me! Thanks for your help, cutie!” She gave Lucy a little wave and blew her a kiss. “Enjoy the rest of your tour and your dinner!” She winked at Becky then almost skipped towards the assistant and the waiting spitting bench. As he began to lock her in place, the group moved on, all looking back over their shoulders at Jen mounted on her spit. Whatever kind of life she had lived and whatever else she had been, she was food now, and the teachers and governors were in for a real treat in about an hour’s time when her golden-roasted carcass was served to them! For now, however, she was still very much alive and taking full advantage of the thick metal pole penetrating her insatiable pussy, her hips moving back and forth along the pole as much as she could manage as she urgently fucked her spit.


CHAPTER FIVE

The next area they came to was the pots. Aside from the steam, the first thing that struck them all was how noisy this was! Of course no part they had explored so far had been devoid of the general background noise hubbub of a busy kitchen but this area was in a different league entirely and it was quite easy to see why! Not only was the broth in the pots bubbling noisily but the girls sat cooking in them were all excitedly chatting with one another. Some pots contained pairs or even groups of three or four girls while others had only a single occupant, although this simply meant they had to talk even louder in order to be heard over the bubbling and other chatter as they conversed with the girls in neighbouring pots!

There seemed to be quite a wide age-range of girls represented and the visitors could not spot any who were already dead. In one pot, a pair of busty teens were making out frantically as if they were in a motel hot-tub rather than cooking in a restaurant kitchen. In another, a pair of sisters around eight and ten years old were splashing and trying to dunk each other in the simmering, steaming broth.

“Some girls are chopped up once they pass out,” Tiffany explained over the din, wondering what the steam might do to her hair-sprayed curls, “and others are left to cook whole and served that way. Sometimes a boiled girl is transferred into a sauce or thicker soup to finish cooking.” The children nodded with feigned interest like on a school trip to some worthy museum or national landmark but found watching the meat-girls boiling in their large metal pots far more interesting. There was not really much about this cooking method that needed explaining although Ollie found himself a little disappointed that the pots the girls were being cooked in just looked like giant saucepans and were not the blackened stone or iron cauldrons of cartoons and comics. “Kinda boring pots?” Tiffany asked sympathetically, putting a hand on his shoulder when she noticed. “Remember nothing in here is done for show! I’ve been to a couple of parties but proper cannibal stew-pots!” she assured him with a grin. Just then, something a little different caught Ollie’s eye.

“What’s that one?” he asked, pointing to a pot that was not shaped like the others. Instead it was long and shallow, more like a bath tub than saucepan. It was on a raised platform and the water in it was bubbling furiously despite it being otherwise empty. Lucy, who had been looking rather enviously at a trio of friends around her own age happily chatting and giggling together in their shared pot, looked over too. Becky could not deny it was intriguing but seeing so many other girls cooked and cooking was starting to make her very impatient for her own big moment!

“Ooh yes!” Tiffany nodded, kicking herself internally for not having thought to point this out. “They call that the Lobster Pot! It’s for flash-boiling a girl. It’s a bit like deep-frying really but with water or sometimes wine rather than oil. Apparently a girl can go from alive to ready to serve in under five minutes!”

“Ooh can we watch that?” Lucy asked eagerly.

“Well only if…” the young guide began to answer but was cut off as an assistant politely asked them to move aside. The young woman in her black polo-shirt was leading a girl ahead of her with a hand on her shoulder. The girl was eleven or twelve years old and had very long hair in a pony-tail down her back so dark it was almost black, contrasting prettily with her porcelain skin. Her eyes were light brown with flecks of green and she was chewing on her lower lip nervously, but, from the condition of her pale nipples which stood out proudly from the cone-like buds on her chest, she was very excited too. Her face was round and very beautiful, making her look almost like a china doll and just as fragile.

As the group watched, the assistant told the girl to stand beside the Lobster Pot then pulled from her pocket a pair of the same metal cable-ties that had been used to secure Jen to the spit. First she had the girl hold her hands together in front of her and bound her wrists. The pretty brunette winced a little as the metal band cut into her skin but did not complain. Next the young woman knelt down and secured the girl’s ankles to each other.

“Are you going in the Lobster Pot?” Ollie asked boldly after the woman told the nervous girl to wait while she went to find her colleague who had the rest of the equipment.

“That’s right.” The girl smiled a little weakly. “It’s my parents’ wedding anniversary and I agreed to be their dinner and since they had lobster on their honeymoon, real lobster, that is,” she clarified with a slightly wry chuckle, “so that’s what they wanted!”

“Wow!” Tiffany gave a low whistle. “Good luck! You, um, looking forward to it?” It seemed a bit of a silly question but she couldn’t really think of anything else to ask.

“I think so!” the girl giggled. “I’m Caitlyn by the way,” she added, “not that it really matter!” She chuckled again and the others introduced themselves.

“Hope you don’t mind if we watch?” asked Tiffany, politely. She knew that meat-girls by this stage in the process didn’t have much say in what happened to them, and certainly no right to modesty or privacy but being cooked still struck her as something intimately personal, especially when it was being done away from public view, and it still seemed right to seek the girl’s blessing rather than just assuming that an audience was welcome.

“Sure!” Caitlyn smiled, looking a little relieved to have the company in her final moments. “They said they could do it in the room if they wanted but Ma and Da didn’t want to watch, they just want to eat me after!”

“Ooh I’m getting cooked in the room!” Becky announced proudly. “These little sweethearts and their family are gonna watch me fry before they chow down on my tasty ass!” The two meat-girls giggled together, as did Lucy, although Ollie could not help blushing a little. Fortunately, they were all saved from having to make further small-talk when the assistant returned with a colleague in tow, each carrying a fairly short metal rod with a hook on the end, like a shepherd’s crook.

“Looks like this is it!” Caitlyn gulped a little, her eyes flicking between the approaching assistants and the bubbling water. “Wish me luck?”

“Happy cooking!” Lucy grinned at her innocently. “I’m sure you’ll be delicious!” The others all echoed these sentiments, giving her encouraging strokes on the arm or shoulder-squeezes.

“Oh! Hello again!” Tiffany giggled as she recognised the young man accompanying the woman who had brought Caitlyn over. “They keep you busy, huh?”

“I guess so!” the young man chuckled. Although most of their attention had been on the girls, it was easy for the whole party to recognise him as the man who had spitted Jen after declining a blow-job from Nina. “There’s a lot of hungry people out there and plenty of girls willing to feed them but everyone forgets about us poor drones in the middle!”

“Yeah!” Becky giggled. “Stuck for hours with all these naked girls, tying them up and rubbing them with butter… Sucks to be you, huh?” She stuck out her tongue teasingly, making the young man blush almost as deeply as Ollie had and causing his colleague to shake her head in amusement.

“Come on!” the young woman chuckled. “We’ve got a lobster to boil! Okay, I’m gonna need to put this on you.” She took a swimming hat from her pocket and pulled it onto Caitlyn's head, coiling her long ponytail up underneath it and carefully tucking any loose wisps beneath the edges.

“What’s that for?” Lucy asked, looking up inquisitively at Tiffany.

“I guess it’s to keep her looking pretty for when she’s served?” the young guide suggested, looking to the assistants for clarification.

“That’s right!” The young woman nodded, smiling as she took a pair of goggles out of her pocket and put them over Caitlyn's eyes, the strap around the hat. “This is a very fast cooking method, full body, and we don’t want her to go cold while we try to dry her hair! Perhaps you’ve seen the foil on some of the oven roasters?” The observers nodded. “Well it’s the same sort of thing. Okay!” She grinned at Caitlyn, hands on her shoulders, “Looks like you’re ready for the pot!” Caitlyn was looking even more nervous than before but nodded obediently. “Okay,” the woman told her as the man stood behind, arms out to catch her, “just fall backwards.” She put her hand in the middle of the tightly-bound girl’s chest and pushed lightly, prompting her to topple.

As she fell backwards, the young man caught her under her arms which were fixed together in front and the woman leaned down and grabbed her feet so that they held her horizontally. Between them, they carefully carried her over to the Lobster Pot, the water bubbling hungrily as they held her over it, the searing steam already turning her back, rump and legs bright pink. As they watched, the visitors noticed that the whole area had fallen quiet as the girls in their pots all stopped chattering and playing and turned to watch Caitlyn's fate. Suddenly feeling a little nervous, Lucy reached out and took her brother’s hand in her left and Tiffany’s in her right, squeezing both tightly for comfort. As aroused as she was, Becky was even too fascinated to think of fingering herself this time and instead stood watching, transfixed, as the assistants silently counted together, nodding their heads in unison.

Suddenly, at the agreed-upon count, they dropped the nervous, pale young girl into the angrily-bubbling water. She let out a shrill scream as the heat bit into her delicate skin but that scream was soon cut off as the assistants used their metal rods to push her down, one curved metal crook on her chest and the other on her knees. From where they stood, looking slightly down at the shallow pot, the four observers saw Caitlyn thrash around in the water, her screams muffled and producing only bubbles, not sound, then suddenly it was as if the pain ceased and she then focussed on trying to sit up to catch her breath, an effort defeated, of course, by the assistants pushing her down.

“It would only have hurt for a couple of seconds.” Tiffany leaned down and confided to the children. “Water that hot would destroy her nerve-endings almost instantly. She’s not feeling any pain now, but she is drowning.” They continued to watch as Caitlyn's thrashing grew less frequent, although no less violent, until, with a final spasm, she stopped moving all together. The assistants nodded to each other and lifted out their poles. It had clearly required quite a lot of effort on their part to hold the young girl down in the water and they both looked relieved that it was over.

The man walked off while the woman stood keeping an eye on the cooking meat, for that is all Caitlyn was by then. Ollie was just about to ask where he had gone but almost immediately he returned pushing a trolley with a large platter on it, on which was laid a bed of lettuce leaves and fresh parsley. Once parked, from underneath he took a big wooden pepper-mill and a bowl of chopped herbs.

“Think she’s ready?” he asked the woman. She peered down into the bubbling water. It wasn’t especially easy to see but she was quite experienced at telling a cooked girl when she saw one.

“Maybe another minute?” She suggested. Now that the exciting part was over, the girls in the various conventional pots has resumed their playing and chattering, although the main topic of conversation was now, of course, Caitlyn and her dramatic death. As they stood watching, the manager walked over to them, and stood beside them with a hand on Tiffany’s shoulder.

“Everything’s ready in the dining room!” she informed them with a smile. “Let’s get up there and get your dinner cooking!”

“Can we stay just a minute longer and watch what happens here?” Lucy asked, sweetly. “I think she’s nearly ready to serve and I’d like to see!” The manager looked over at the young woman who gave a nod of confirmation.

“Of course.” The manager smiled politely. Becky silently nudged Ollie who looked up at her, puzzled. Gesturing emphatically with her eyebrows, the meat-girl drew a finger across her throat and mimed lifting off her own head. She then looked very pointedly from Ollie to the manager and back again.

“Oh yeah!” Ollie grinned, blushing a little. “Excuse me,” he turned to the manager who smiled down at him. “I’d like to keep Becky’s head, please. As a…” he glanced back over his shoulder at her she mouthed the words to him. “A happy ending toy? Can we do that, please?” The manager looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Please!” Becky interjected, batting her eye-lashes in the way that usually got her way with her parents. “I’d really like him to have that souvenir of his special dinner!”

“Well it’s not that easy to preserve a head with the cooking method you’ve requested…” She replied, thinking as she spoke, “But it can be done I think. Of course I can’t guarantee there won’t be damage from the cooking but, how about this?” she grinned, arriving at a satisfactory conclusion in her head. “We’ll do our best to keep Becky’s head for you, but if it really doesn’t work, we’ll provide you with the closest match we have in stock?” Both Ollie and Becky agreed that this was a satisfactory compromise, although both strongly hoped that it would be Becky’s own head that Ollie took home as a souvenir toy at the end of the visit.

“I’d say she’s ready!” the young woman called to her colleague and all eyes returned to the Lobster Pot and the boiled, bright pink girl laying on the bottom as the water raged and bubbled around her. The young man quickly took up his place at the other end of the long, shallow pot at both picked up their rods. This time, the woman carefully hooked hers through the band around Caitlyn's ankles while the man hooked his through the one around her wrists.

The man started to lift first, bringing the limp arms out of the water first. When he felt them reach full extension, he nodded to the woman who began to lift too. Although this was one of the less common cooking methods the restaurant employed, it was clear that both workers were well experienced at extracting the girls flash-boiled in this way. Quickly and carefully, they pulled the whole boiled carcass from the water.

Whereas before she went in, Caitlyn's skin had been very pale, almost white, it was now a bright and angry pink, as if she were sunburnt all over. Steam rose from her body and it seemed that she was more or less dry by the time she was carefully laid on the waiting platter. Little wisps of steam continued to rise as the assistants removed their hooks then the woman took a pair of shears and snipped through the two metal bands. The watchers had expected them to leave marks but the slight pressure indentations faded in seconds as her legs were gently parted and her arms arranged by her sides. Next, the woman very carefully removed the goggles, leaving Caitlyn's brown-green eyes open and staring up at the ceiling. Finally, she lifted the young girl’s head and peeled off the swimming cap then used the shears to remove the hairband before brushing out her long, dark hair so that it hung prettily over the end of the platter atop the trolley.

“Wow!” Lucy exclaimed. “She looks really beautiful and delicious!” Seeing her laying so serenely on the platter, nobody disagreed. It was Becky who finally broke the spell of the moment as they watched Caitlyn wheeled away having been sprinkled with the herbs and black pepper.

“Come on!” she grinned, grabbing Ollie’s hand and tugging him to follow the manager to the private dining room where the rest of the family were waiting to see who Ollie had chosen for dinner. “Now it’s my turn to be delicious!”

“Absolutely!” grinned the manager. “Tiffany?” she turned to the young tour-guide. “Thank you so much for your help today. You’re off the clock now and my assistant is sorting out your pay, it should be in your account by the time you get home.”

“Thank you!” Tiffany beamed. “Were you able to…?”

“Oh yes!” the manager clapped her hands together proudly. “I think you’ll be very happy with what we found for you. It’s on a hanger in front of your locker in the changing room.

“Thank you!” Tiffany almost bounced in excitement. “See you soon!” She gave quick hugs to Ollie and Lucy. “Thank you so much for inviting me! Oh,” she turned to Becky with a grin before giving her a big hug and a playful kiss on the lips, “if I don’t get to see you before, happy cooking!” With that, she skipped off happily to get changed and the manager led the remaining three children towards the lift which would take them up to the floor where the private dining room was located.