CHAPTER SIX

The room where the staff had their lockers and got changed before and after their shifts if they needed to was actually the same one Tiffany had taken Ollie and Lucy to one their tour where they had met the dance troupe and learned the secrets of the mermaids. Since there was so much nudity to be seen on a daily basis at Sidney’s, the staff tended to become a little desensitised to seeing each other in their underwear and if one of them decided to take a shower and a co-worker should walk in, well that was just part of life in the girl-meat restaurant. It had been decided very early on in the planning process that there was no need for single-sex locker rooms and indeed most employees of either sex showed up ready to work and left in their uniforms, only really using the lockers to stash their coats, phones and other personal belongings.

When Tiffany arrived there, it was empty. The mermaids were already taken to their tank and Maria and her friends were likely back stage in their rehearsal room waiting to go out in front of the diners and give their performance. In Maria’s case it would be, of course, be her last. She gasped when she saw the clothes that had been left for her. It was a very elegant red dress with a pair of thin black tights and shiny black shoes with a two-inch heel! She couldn’t help but wonder about the meat-girl who had arrived such fancy clothes! Perhaps it was her birthday or something? Or the meal was a surprise for her partner as part of a date? Either way, it was clear that the owner of these clothes had no use for them any more and that was good news for Tiffany.

The large, sturdy cardboard box that the hat and boots had been in was still on top of the lockers where she had left it so she took it down and set it on a bench then sat down beside it and pulled off the boots which were a fairly good fit but still pinched. Under these she was wearing white sports socks which felt a great relief to take off. Sighing with contentment, she stretched out her legs and wiggled her toes, wondering for a second if she could get away with wearing her comfy sneakers instead of the dress shoes but deciding quickly that making a good impression and looking her best was worth a couple more hours of not so comfortable feet. After all, she reasoned, she could always kick them off under the table during the meal if she needed to.

Part of her Sidney costume had been an all-over coating of baby oil to give her skin a bit of a shimmer but it did feel a little sticky still, stopping her from feeling entirely comfortable. Plus the dress she had been loaned was so lovely and expensive-looking that she didn’t want to risk ruining it with the oily residue on her skin. After all, it was basically lost property now and the rightful owner was in no position to claim it back so there was a fair chance, she hoped, that she would be allowed to keep it! There was also the question of her hair that had been professionally styled into curls like Sidney’s but this required a lot of hairspray making it feel stiff and unnatural, not to mention how itchy it was starting to make her scalp. All things considered, she decided that a quick shower before getting dressed would be a very good idea!

Like the rest of the changing room, the shower was unisex and communal. Shampoo and shower gel dispensers around the walls made taking in your own bottles unnecessary and some employees liked to take advantage of this perk available to them to save on bills at home, especially the younger waiters, waitresses and kitchen assistants. First of all, Tiffany focussed on washing the mousse and spray out of her hair, feeling it return to its natural fairly straight condition.

It was something of an open secret that Sidney’s famous look had been just as fake on her as it was on Tiffany. In the decades following her death, various personal photographs and video clips had been released through official marketing channels, not to mention leaked by other sources, showing Sidney Roebuck in her every-day life looking almost unrecognisable as the famous mascot that most people thought of when they heard the name. In fact, it seemed she had been quite the tom-boy and was far more at home in blue jeans and hockey jerseys than anything remotely “girly”. This had meant that, despite become arguably the most famous girl in the world, at least for the last eighteen months or so of her life, she had been able to continue enjoying trips to the cinema, mall or theme parks unrecognised.

With her hair clean, and feeling grateful for the mirrors, hair-dryers, straighteners and brushes which were provided along one wall for the use of the dancers, mermaids or any staff who needed them, Tiffany used the provided soap to wash off the oil, feeling properly clean for the first time in several hours! Leaning against the warm tiled wall, she closed her eyes and relaxed as the water cascaded over her naked, pre-teen body, rinsing away the suds, and allowed her mind to drift to all the things she had seen while giving the tour, especially the various painful but very willing deaths of the meat-girls, giving their lives for no greater cause than to provide someone else with a tasty meal! What made girls want to volunteer their bodies like that, she wondered. Could she ever see herself making a date with the oven or spit?

She was so lost in her meditative thoughts that she did not notice the shower automatically shut off and so jumped quite sharply when she was brought back to reality by an unexpected voice!

“Oh, sorry!” exclaimed the naked young man when he saw her. “I didn’t realise anyone was in here! There was no water running and...”

“No worries.” Tiffany smiled, squeezing the excess water out of her hair. She had been naked in front of countless people so many times in her career, not to mention that very afternoon, that she really felt no shame about being walked in on in the shower, although she could not deny rather enjoying the view of the handsome young man who had to be in his early twenties, very well-endowed and semi-erect blushing when he saw her as if he were a little boy like Ollie seeing a naked girl for the first time, rather than a professional who handled countless teens and pre-teens every working day, scrubbing them, coating them with butter and preparing them to cook! Suddenly she recognised him and grinned.

“Oh, hello again!” she grinned cheerfully. “Been a busy day for you, huh? Guess you’re done now?”

“Yeah…?” the young man looked puzzled, clearly not recognising her out of costume.

“Guess I look different without the hat?” she teased, pretending to pout a little but really not blaming him in the slightest. “I was Sidney and I was showing two little cuties around? We watched you spit those girls who wanted to suck you off then boil that other girl like a lobster?”

“Oooh right, yeah!” the young man grinned, a flash of recognition lighting up his face. Although she was trying very hard not to stare, Tiffany was pretty sure that she saw his semi-hard manhood twitch a little at the mention of the two spitted teens who had been so determined to make the most of their last hour of life!

“So, does that happen a lot?” Tiffany asked, trying to alleviate the awkward atmosphere with small talk but feel acutely aware that she was probably only making it worse. “Girls asking you for one last fuck or whatever?”

“Yeah a bit…” The young man nodded. “They’re told when they sign up it’s not allowed but a lot seem to think we’ll make an exception for them. I guess there’s just something about being meat that, you know, does something to girls?”

“Makes them horny as a pre-teen meat-girl on harvest day?” Tiffany giggled, repeating the well-known idiom. “Stereotypes exist for a reason!” The young man chuckled awkwardly and made towards one of the showers on the opposite side of the little room.

“Anyway,” he smiled politely, “I should probably…”

“Yeah, sorry!” Tiffany smiled. “I need to get dressed anyway. I’ve got a dinner-date!” They smiled at each other again and the young actress could not help looking his toned, naked body up and down once more. She was not entirely sure what came over her, whether it was sympathy for his predicament, a suppressed horniness from having watched the slaughter and preparation of so many girls that afternoon or just one of those mad impulses that seem like a good idea at the time but, as he turned his back and pressed the button to start the shower, she crossed to where he stood and tapped him on the shoulder.

Surprised, the young man turned around to look at her. Stood so close, it was clear how much taller than her he was, not to mention at least ten years older than her, possibly as much as twice her age, yet it was Tiffany who felt all the power and confidence in the situation as she put a finger to her grinning lips, telling him not to speak, then reached out with her other hand and began to stroke his sizeable member which of course took only seconds to reach its full potential in response to her delicate touch.

As she dropped to her knees, Tiffany wondered whether the young man had been planning to take matters into his own hands in the shower and that was why he was so surprised and embarrassed to find someone else there? Either way, she was fairly sure he would enjoy what she was about to do more. She knew it was illegal, probably more so than fucking the meat-girls since that was just against company policy rather than the actual law, since any and all Human Rights laws, including Age of Consent, ceased to apply to a girl once she was registered as meat, but in practice she knew that such laws were cared about so little that, even if someone were to walk in on them, there would be no consequences for the clearly frustrated young man. It was clear that he was not in any way forcing her and surely nobody would begrudge him a blow-job from a willing co-worker, however young she might be, given what he had to put up with during this work day!

Grinning up at him, eyes sparkling and still without a word, she took him in her mouth and began to massage his engorged organ with her tongue while sliding her warm lips back and forth along the shaft as the hot water of the shower cascaded down over both of them. The young man leaned back and steadied himself against the warm tiles. This was certainly better than what he had been planning and was something he had secretly dreamt of so many times! Sharing a changing room with the young dancers and mermaids as well as his direct colleagues, he had always fanaticized about such an encounter but, until that moment, it had remained nothing but a fantasy! Even if someone did walk in and he ended up losing his job over it, he decided, the experience would be totally worth it!

With as many erections as he had needed to suppress during the day and as sexually frustrated as he had been feeling when he undressed for his shower, it really did not take long before he felt the rising pressure followed by the relief of explosion as he shot his thick, hot, creamy load into Tiffany’s very talented young mouth. Still grinning, she swallowed what he gave her then used her tongue to clean him up a little, sucking the last few drops from the head of his still-hard manhood, now so sensitive every flick of her tongue felt like a thousand volts of electricity being passed through his body. Satisfied that her work was done, Tiffany stood up and licked her lips.

“There!” she grinned as he looked at her in stunned silence. “Hope that feels better? Anyway,” she giggled, “I’d love to stay and chat but I really do have a dinner date! Enjoy your shower!”

“Um… thanks!” the man answers dumbly, managing a confused smile and a little wave as the giggling young girl turned and left the shower area, hips swaying as she walked and her cute round ass wiggling most appealingly!

It did not take Tiffany long to dry and style her hair, deciding that an elegant, swept-up look would go best with the provided outfit. She had deodorant and perfume in her locker but had not thought to bring any makeup as she had not expected to need it. Fortunately, the communal box used by the dancers had been left out and she was sure they would not begrudge her a little lipstick and eye-shadow! She thought about untangling her panties from the legs of her sweatpants, screwed up in her locker after she had taken them both off in one go but decided that the tights were enough without them and any extra layers underneath risked spoiling the line of the dress which was very figure-hugging and elegant.

“I’m going now!” she called loudly towards the shower area as she stood in the doorway to the changing room, unable to keep herself from giggling a little. “You’ve got the place to yourself! For now…” And with that she left, feeling confident, beautiful and above all, far more herself than she had felt in the Sidney outfit and went to check at the reception desk which room the party she was joining was in!


CHAPTER SEVEN

“Hey you’re just in time!” Lucy rushed to hug her as she came in then grabbed her hand and dragged her into the room to introduce her to everyone. “This is Mummy and Daddy, and Grandpa Pete and Nanna Margaret, Grandad Frank and Grandma Pat!” Everyone smiled and waved happily at her, lifting their glasses in welcome. “We saved you a seat between me and Ollie!” the little girl enthused, “But we’re about to watch Becky go in the wok!” A little taken aback by the whirlwind greeting, Tiffany turned to look where the little girl was excitedly pointing. Ollie was already stood talking to his chosen meat-girl and the two workers who had come to prepare her, one proper chef in whites and another black-shirted assistant. The siblings’ parents got up too and walked over with her.

The giant wok, above six feet across, was set on what could best be described as a huge camping stove with a ring of blue gas-powered flames heating the black metal from below. The wok pan did not have a flat bottom but was gently rounded, supported on three legs out towards the sides. In the bottom was a small puddle of angrily sizzling oil. Tiffany noticed two wooden paddles, a bit like the oars of a row-boat but wider, leaning against the wall and wondered what they were for. Becky herself seemed to have been given a fresh coating of butter or oil and her skin was covered in little dark flecks that were likely dried herbs mixed in with the rub – there was no denying how delicious she looked!

“Now,” the chef assistant turned to the meat-girl with a serious expression while the chef checked the temperature of the oil and added a little more seasoning, “there’s a few things we need to do before you go in. I understand we’re planning to try preserving your head?” Becky nodded, actually looking a little nervous for the first time that day, “so we’re going to need to wrap your hair and put a coating of Vaseline in your face. Now, it’s not a total guarantee,” he cautioned her, “but it will give us a reasonable chance of success!” Becky nodded again then turned to wink at Ollie, making him blush again despite all he had experienced since the first time they met.

“Also, however willing you are,” he continued, “this method of cooking is incredibly painful and once you’re in, your natural instinct is going to be to try to escape. No, I know,” he interrupted her as Becky opened her mouth to protest, “you want to cook this way, but you won’t be able to help yourself. The primal survival instinct will be too strong. So we’re going to need to restrain you and the paddles are for holding you in!” Becky gulped a little, realising as Caitlyn had when she stood by the Lobster Pot just what kind of ordeal she might be about to subject herself to, but not for a second contemplating not going through with what had been agreed! Surprisingly meekly for as strong-willed a girl as she was, she held out her arms, wrists together, and allowed them to be secured with one of the metal cable-ties. Those watching who had seen Caitlyn boiled expected Becky’s ankles to be bound too but they were left free. Tiffany supposed that a combination of the smooth sides of the wok, the oil already hissing in anticipation in the bottom and the oil covering Becky’s lovely body, there was no way she’d be able to get a good purchase with her feet and would just keep slipping back in without her hands for support.

Once Becky was restrained, the assistant took a roll of tin-foil and broke off two large squares which he used to wrap the twin little bunches on top of Becky’s head. He then folded these down next to each other across the top of her head and used wrapped more foil around her head until all her hair was covered. Next he took a pot of petroleum jelly and smeared it over her face and neck, down to where it met the shoulders.

“Wow!” Becky remarked sardonically, in a deadpan tone, when he was done. “I’ve never felt sexier.”

“Yeah it’s a look that’s gonna catch on, I’m sure!” Tiffany giggled. “You’re quite the trend-setter!”

“Hey, what matters is that I taste good, right?” grinned Becky, recovering her good humour. “And that Ollie gets a nice souvenir to take home?”

“That’s right!” the assistant agreed. “Now, one more thing.”

“Oh,” Becky frowned behind her mask of yellowish gel as the assistant pulled a ball-gag from his pocket, “is that really necessary?”

“I’m afraid so.” the assistant nodded. “These walls are pretty thick but not actually sound-proofed and of course there’s the window onto the balcony over the main dining room.” He pointed to the archway cut into one wall, beyond with others of its kind and the upper decorations of the main restaurant could be seen. Very appetising smells drifted up through it along with the gentle mood-music and low hubbub of chatter to be expected in such establishments. “I told you this cooking method is painful,” he reminded her in a serious tone, “and screams aren’t really what people want to hear while they’re trying to enjoy their dinner!”

“Okay!” Becky sighed. “I guess you’re right! Well,” she turned to Ollie and the other diners with a genuine smile. “Hope you really enjoy me and, well, have a nice life, I guess?” She blew a kiss as best she could with her wrists strapped to each other then turned back to the assistant. “Go ahead!” she chuckled. “It’s no apple but I guess it will do!” She opened her mouth wide and allowed him to fit the gag.

“That’s it!” Tiffany could not help laughing out loud this time. “The finishing touch the ensemble was missing!” Becky looked at her and rolled her eyes playfully. It was clear that if she had been capable of sticking out her tongue she would have done so.

The chef signalled to the assistant that everything was ready. The assistant led Becky with one hand on her elbow and the other on her shoulder and guided her up a small set of steps next to the wok. At the top, he helped her to sit, her knees bend.

“Okay, legs over the side,” he ordered, “and in you go!” Becky lowered her legs and immediately tried to lift them again as her oiled skin came into contact with the hot metal but the assistant was anticipating this and gave her a sharp shove in the small of her back which sent her sliding down the curved side into the puddle of sizzling oil at the bottom.

Immediately, Becky began to scream and although they were muffled by the gag, there was no mistaking their shrill panic! She was not stupid, she had known it was going to hurt! How could it not when her bare skin was in direct contact with hot oil and metal but she had not anticipated this! She simply had no frame of reference for the amount of pain she was in! Instinctively, she thrashed around and scrabbled with her feet, her body as desperate to escape as she had been warned it would be but her oil-covered feet simply slipped about on the slick side of the pan. And yet, despite the pain, there was an immense feeling of satisfaction, achievement almost, and the white hot pain in her skin did nothing to diminish the strength of the urge she felt between her legs!

“Roll around!” the chef called down to her as she arched her back, trying to minimise the amount of her body in contact with the metal. “It will make things go quicker and once you’re seared all over, you’ll get used to it!” While he was talking, the assistant had retrieved the paddles and handed one to the chef before using his own to press down on her raised belly, forcing her back into the sizzling oil.

“Shouldn’t we maybe…” Ollie’s mum looked a little uncomfortable. “Perhaps put her out of her misery?” Instinctively, she reached down and tried to cover Lucy’s eyes but the excited little girl pulled the hand away and even stepped forward. It was only her mother’s other hand on her chest that stopped her from getting dangerously close to the wok and leaning over the edge for a better look!

“She’ll be gone soon enough!” the chef assured her. “And all the tastier for this!” He used his own paddle to help flip Becky over onto her belly, pressing down between her shoulders so that her perky little tits were pushed firmly into the oil, while the assistant pressed down on her rump which already had a thin golden crust over the redness. She writhed and struggled like a freshly-caught fish left to suffocate in a bucket but when they flipped her over onto her back once more, she seemed to relax. Ollie and Lucy remembered what Tiffany had told them as they watched Caitlyn boil, that in that sort of heat, the nerve-endings in her skin would be destroyed quite quickly and she’d stop feeling pain.

Of course things could not be quite so neat for Becky, they understood that! Caitlyn had been totally submerged in one go, totally enveloped in the boiling water, whereas Becky had to manually press each part of her delicious young body into the searing oil and any part she missed would bring a fresh explosion of pain when it finally made contact but eventually, they knew, she would stop feeling anything. Becky knew this too, all too well! Already as she wriggled around on her back, her legs and shoulders held down by the wooden paddles, the burning on her skin was receding. She could feel the heat deep in her tissue, of course, as the muscle turned to cooked meat, but it was not the same intense pain she had felt on first contact. In some ways, it was almost relaxing, like a hot stone massage or a rub with the Deep Heat cream she used after gym class at school sometimes!

The burning of the oil against her skin had really been nothing compared to the fire between her legs! Dare she satisfy herself right there, on final time in front of everyone? She really couldn’t see why not! They were watching her fry to death, after all. Was pleasuring herself really any more shocking? Even if it was, did she care? Becky had always found “pearl-clutchers” amusing and anyway, this was her big moment! The literal climax of her short but happy life! Why shouldn’t she squeeze every available drop of pleasure from it?

If they were amused when Becky reached between her legs, Lucy and Ollie were even more amused by the expression on their mum’s face when she noticed! They had seen and experienced so many new things in the fairly short time since they had arrived at the restaurant that they really had no concept of what might be considered shocking any more!

“She really wanted to cook this way!” Tiffany spoke soothingly, putting a comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder, seeing that she was still uncomfortable with the amount of pain their dinner was in, and even more uncomfortable with what she was doing to distract herself from it! “She practically begged Ollie to choose this and was adamant about it even when they told her how painful it was going to be!”

“I know…” the smartly-dressed blonde lady who looked in many ways like a larger version of her daughter sighed. “She was really excited about it when she got up here!”

“You don’t have to watch if you’d rather not?” the elegantly dressed tween suggested kindly with a warm smile. “Go stand out on the balcony and see what’s going on down there? I’ll keep an eye on the kids?”

“Yes perhaps that’s a good idea?” the sibling’s dad suggested, taking his wife by the elbow, disappointed to miss the spectacular show that Becky was putting on in the wok but not wanting his wife to be put off her dinner and knowing that from the balcony, where they had enjoyed some drinks together earlier, they had a very good view of the public cooking area, the mermaid tank and the stage where they had been promised some kind of performance would be taking place before too long! Still a little uncomfortable with the whole situation, she agreed and allowed herself to be guided out, leaving Tiffany with Lucy and Ollie to witness the remainder of Becky’s life which could surely now be counted only in minutes!

The tips of her fingers were burned and sore, the skin of her plump vulva brown and crispy like fried chicken but Becky found she could gently pull open her labia and ease her fingers into the moist, soft flesh inside. Her throbbing clit was protected by its hood and she was pleased to find it was capable of far more sensation than the thumb she used to rub it. The waves of pleasure flooded her half-cooked body, her fingers continuing to move even as the two men responsible for her cooking used their paddles to tilt her onto first one side then the other, the bust of pain as the previously untouched skin in her thighs and upper arms was seared to a crispy golden brown only serving to heighten her pleasure.

Once more they flipped her onto her front, a paddle in her back forcing her firm little breasts against the hot metal of the bottom of the pan, crushing them beneath her and pinning her arms which were still secured together. Yet her fingers and thumb continued their work. She was not screaming now, only giving moans and gasps which were equal parts pleasure and pain, one now indistinguishable from the other. She was feeling giddy now, her brain flooded with endorphins and natural pain-killing hormones as her body implemented its hard-wired survival responses, seemingly ignorant of her mind’s wish to give her life willingly in this way as a tasty meal! She had never been drunk before but this was how she had always imagined it must be! Harder and more urgently she fingers herself, relishing the freedom of movement which came from being flipped once more onto her back.

Now only half-concious, Becky was only somewhat aware of the faces looking down at her. Three of them were her friends, she knew that, and the others were the cooks, her executioners. One of the taller figures moved away but she could not tell which as her vision was becoming blurred. She was sure that he said something to the other but from down in the pan, with the loudly sizzling oil echoing against the rounded sides and her heat and hormone-addled brain only barely capable of processing any new stimuli, she could not make out what it was. It was getting harder to move, her living muscle turning to cooked meat and leaving her as little more than an edible statue, incapable of moving, speaking, or even really of thinking! With one last loud gasp, muffled like the others by the gag, she experienced her final orgasm as everything that had been Becky left her body, leaving only a large piece of half-cooked meat.

“She’s gone.” The chef confirmed to the assistant who was holding a large knife with a serrated edge. The three watching children looked on in awe and fascination as the two men used the paddles to ease the limp, crispy-skinned body up the side of the wok until her head lolled over the edge. After a nod of confirmation, the assistant passed the knife to the chef and held Becky in place with his own paddle while the chef carefully cut through the sinew of her neck, down to the spine, then set the knife down, took hold of the head with both hands and gave it a sharp twist. There was a loud snap followed by a wet, sucking sound as he pulled the head free from the body. The assistant leaned in with a pair of wire snippers and cut the metal band around Becky’s wrists, allowing her arms to flop free now that she was no longer capable of thrashing or flailing. This, the onlookers realised, would allow the rest of her delicious young body to cook more evenly without the arms blocking any of the chest or belly meat.

“I’ll get this down to the workshop right away.” the assistant took the severed head from the chef as the body was allowed to slip back down to the bottom of the pan. “I can’t say for sure,” he turned to Ollie, “since it’s not really my department but it looks like it’s in a good condition to preserve!” Ollie grinned at this. He knew he had been promised a Happy Ending head to take home under any circumstances but he would really like it to be Becky’s! She had, after all, given him his first “head”, it seemed only fitting that he should keep hers!

“It’s going to be a while until she’s ready to eat yet.” the chef told the children kindly. “And there’s really not a lot more to see here. Why don’t you go join the your parents on the balcony? I think the dance show is going to start any minute!”


CHAPTER EIGHT

With one last hungry look at Becky’s headless body, Ollie and Lucy gleefully agreed and, each holding one of Tiffany’s hands, went out onto the balcony where their mum and dad were chatting quietly, sipping glasses of wine and watching all the couples, families and groups below happily tucking into their girl-meat dinners.

“Hey! Isn’t that Candy?” Lucy asked excitedly, pointing to the public cooking area where an athletic young red-head with a spectacular rump was turning slowly over the artificial coals, clearly not longer alive and, from the golden-brown colour of her skin, very nearly ready to serve.

“Yeah I think so!” Ollie grinned. “I wonder how many of those other people are eating bits of Melony?” Lucy giggled at the thought, wondering just how many dishes one butchered girl could be used in! Did her boobs get cooked and served whole, she wondered, to some lucky diner or had they been sliced and fried like her friend’s mum had prepared her big sister’s boobs after they’d had her butchered? In the pot, a slim blonde with perky little tits was dishing out helpings from the stew she sat in, the meat that of the pot’s previous occupants.

“So are you a professional Sidney?” the sibling’s dad asked politely, making small-talk with Tiffany so that she would not feel excluded and would know that she was welcome in joining their family meal. “Like a mascot or something?”

“No,” the young blonde, feeling confident and beautiful in the lovely red dress of a long-digested meat-girl, smiled, “but I am an actress. I think I’d like to do more of this sort of thing ‘though!” she grinned, accepting the glass of wine that he poured and offered her, “It was fun!”

“Are the hat and the boots your own?” he asked as the four grandparents made their way out onto the balcony to join the rest of the family. “Or did the restaurant provide them?”

“They provided them.” she sipped her wine which was a little dryer than she preferred but was still nicely chilled and quite delicious. “They said they actually belonged to Sidney which I guess makes them valuable antiques but…”

“But what?” the friendly man asked, intrigued. “You don’t believe them?”

“Oh I believe them!” Tiffany clarified, “It’s just that, from what I’ve read, Sidney got a new set for every TV appearance or photo-shoot, even the ones that looked the same. Plus she had loads of spares in case something happened and she needed a new outfit quickly. So yeah, it’s cool that the ones I wore technically belonged to her but they’re not exactly unique and I don’t know for sure if she ever actually wore them or not. Still…” she smiled and sipped her wine, leaving the sentence hanging. “They must have been well-made! Considering how old they must be, they seemed good as new!”

“Ooh look!” Lucy jumped and pointed again. “They’re taking Candy off the spit! And there’s a girl coming out the oven too!” They all turned their attention to the cooking area where Becky’s friend was being carried over to the carvery to replace the mostly-stripped carcass of her predecessor. The oven was opened up and a plump black girl, her meaty rump raised appealingly, was pulled out. Although they were really too far away, she looked so delicious that Ollie and Lucy almost believed that they could smell her!

“That’s odd!” their mum remarked, frowning a little as she looked down at the cooking area and carvery where an excited queue was forming, eager for fresh meat.

“What’s wrong?” her husband asked, curiously, as everyone leaned forward to see.

“Well, it looks like that girl is waiting for the oven.” she pointed down to where a chubby girl of about ten with short, light-brown hair and puppy-fat tits was stood, naked of course, being rubbed with oil ready to replace the girl being taken out of the pan. “But there’s nobody for the spit?”

“Oooh!” Ollie grinned. “I know what that’s about!” He looked up at his mum excitedly, happy to have what felt like important insider knowledge. “You’re about to find out!” The stage area was in semi-darkness, an effect created by the bright, directional lights pointed at the tables close to it and the carvery area, but from their vantage point they could see the dance group in their costumes, if the tiny scraps of clothing they consisted of even qualified for such a word, file onto the stage from the door at their back and take up their positions, ready for their performance to begin.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” a voice boomed out from loud-speakers around the room, “Boys and girls! Fine food-lovers of all ages! Please welcome to the stage the Sidney Roebuck Dancers!” There was a round of polite but enthusiastic applause as well as some whistles and shouts of encouragement, possibly from the girls’ own families, as the lights came on illuminating the near-naked dancers and the first beats of the music began to play.

The music was loud and up-beat, exactly the sort of song that little girls enjoyed making up playground dances to. It was vaguely familiar to Tiffany although she was fairly sure it had been originally released the best part of a hundred years earlier! Of course, since then, it had been featured on numerous party compilation albums and remained a staple of school discos and the like, especially since it was now out of copyright. In fact, it occurred to Tiffany, that was probably part of its appeal for being used by groups like this – no performance fees or royalties would need to be paid!

The lyrics amused her too. The song was essentially an expanded version of a small children’s action song referencing various different fast food brands, some which had managed to adapt to the changing tastes of their clientele and others of which had become defunct in the face of the ever-growing popularity of Girl and Boy meat and had either been absorbed into one of the various Sidney’s subsidiaries, which now included some brands such as Gretel’s which had been originally set up as a rival alongside their own proprietary brands of Maxx and Jessie-T’s alongside Sidney’s itself, or gone out of business entirely. It was not the use of the playground song as a pop hit that amused her, however, but rather the verses that had been added in between the catchy chorus!

Not only were they quite overtly sexual in nature, especially surprising given the that the target audience for the song upon its original release had clearly been the under-tens, but they employed a lot of food-based metaphors which leant themselves perfectly interpreting the song as being about willing cannibalism, which had still been illegal at the time of the song’s release and would remain a shocking taboo not even discussed as a possibility until Sidney’s campaign a decade and a half later. Tiffany had often found herself wondering about the world pre-Sidney, as she thought of it. Did people really think eating other people was gross and evil? Something reserved only for horror movies and serial killers? Surely people must have looked at each other’s bodies with a degree of hunger from time to time? The sheer number of songs from that time that employed cannibalistic themes as a euphemism of sex surely indicated so?

Given the theme of the song, Tiffany found it cute that the dancers were all dressed like the waitresses from Jessie-T’s, although in reality the waitresses were all older teens and young adults who tended to be on the busty side and wore roller-skates, in contrast to the barely-budding or flat-chested pre-teens on the stage who were not expected to dance on wheels but were instead wearing matching chunky ankle-boots very similar in style to the skates, paired, in keeping with the Jessie-T’s uniform, with white sports-socks that stopped just below their knees.

In a nice personal touch, each girl wore a sticker above their right breast, or where said breast would be if they had one, with the stylised green J in the bottom right corner and “Hi, I’m…” in the same font in the top left then their own names written in marker pen in the expansive white area. The girls with long hair wore it up in a high ponytail and they all wore sun-visors made from translucent green plastic, just like the waitresses they were emulating. Their only other clothing was a small white apron round their waist, sporting the Jessie-T’s logo. Although in theory these covered their smooth, plump pussies from view, every time they spun around, which they did quite often, the apron would fly up providing teasing glimpses and doing very little to spare their blushes – not that any girl in the group was remotely embarrassed about dancing naked in front of a room full of strangers!

The only one not wearing the apron was Maria, helping her stand out as Star of the Show, with her soon to be roasted naked body on full display, or at least from the knees up! She spun, twerked, jumped and gyrated with the other dancers, positioned in the middle of the front row to focus attention, and showed no signs of fear, apprehension or really any hint at all that when the song came to an end, so would her life!

Stood at the front of the balcony, in front of her mum and dad and peering through the railings with a broad grin on her face, Lucy seemed transfixed, a look of rapture on her face as if she were watching her favourite pop-group performing live rather than essentially a local amateur group of girls her own age and just a little older. By the end of the second chorus she had all the actions memorised, to the amusement of the rest of the family who chuckled as they stepped back to give her room, trying their best to avoid her flailing arms as she imitated the girls on stage. By half way through, she was dancing along to every move, not just the chorus, perhaps half a beat behind the girls who had actually rehearsed the dance together but still doing a very respectable job of keeping up!

The applause as the song ended was far wilder, more enthusiastic and genuine than when the girls had come out onto the stage, but the show was not over yet! In the public cooking area, the plump girl had been quietly prepped for the oven and stuffed while the dance was going on and had just been slid in to begin cooking and the girl in the pot, while looking very red in the face and far more hot and bothered than she had been when they first came out to watch, was still smiling as she ladled out the tasty stew to which she was slowly but surely adding her own flavour. It would not be long before she passed out from the heat and her organs began to shut down. Then she would be hauled out of the water, perhaps using similar hooks to the ones Caitlyn had been lifted out of the Lobster Pot with, and taken to the kitchen where she would be chopped up then her meat and bones returned to the stew in which, by then, a new girl would be sitting and dishing out the tasty treat to the hungry diners.

Looking across at the carvery serving area, they could see that a good portion of the meat from Candy and the oven-roasted girl they did not know had already gone. From the amount of exposed pelvic bone on display, it seemed that rump was the most sought-after meat from both of them, which was far from surprising! Tiffany couldn’t help but feel a grudging admiration for the diners who had taken advantage of the shorter queue while most people were watching the dancing to snag the best cuts from the freshly-cooked girls! Of course, if the dance performance had been a popular attraction, it was nothing compared to what was now taking place on the stage!

After the music had stopped and the dancers had taken their bows, basking in the enthusiastic applause, whistles and cheers of the audience, two of them led Maria to front, holding her gently by the arms. For the first time now, she looked a little apprehensive but the smile never left her face. From the back of the stage, two assistants wheeled forward a low wooden object that looked similar to a vaulting horse but smaller, padded with an easily cleaned faux-leather cushion along the top and similarly padded platforms either side, at the front of which two wooden poles stuck up to about the same height as the top of the bench. The other dancers parted to let them through then Maria and her escorts stepped aside so that the object could be parked at the front of the stage.

Guided by her friends and breathing heavily, noticeable even from up on the balcony, Maria stepped forward and straddled the bench. Still wearing her Jessie-T’s waitress uniform, she knelt on the padded rests either side, her legs parted, then leaned forward so that her belly and mostly-flat chest rested on the narrow main body of the bench, her chin on the end so that she looked out towards the audience. Looking down at the girl who had been his first real lover, Ollie decided that the best view was from where her and his family were standing since they could see far more of her delicious body than those on the ground could. Around the room, other smartly-dressed families and other groups had come out onto their own balconies to watch the dancing and the arguably more exciting show that followed. As Maria got comfortable, those watching realised that the upright poles at the front were hand-grips and the excited meat-girl held onto them tightly.

“I hope they don’t forget to undress her!” Lucy giggled. “I don’t think barbecued sock is very tasty!”

“No?” Tiffany teased. “It was my favourite when I was your age!” She stuck her tongue out playfully at the younger girl and both giggled. Four other dancers were flanking Maria on her spitting bench now. There were no straps to hold her in place, instead the two at the front pushed down hard on her shoulders from either side and the two behind did the same at the base of her back, just before the curve of her extremely appetising rump! One of the assistants stood behind Maria and for a moment, Tiffany wondered if the show was about to get a lot less family-friendly, but instead he leaned forward and took hold of the bench then carefully turned it round, the girls holding Maria down taking tiny steps so the moved with it, until it was Maria’s tight young spit-holes while faced the audience, instead of her face.

Down on the stage, feeling every eye in the restaurant upon her, Maria was experiencing an emotion she had not expected alongside her arousal and excitement – embarrassment! At least once a week for the last year and a half she had got up on that stage in next to nothing, happily flaunting her delicious young body, wiggling her cute round ass and giving everyone an eyeful of her plump vulva with its cute, smooth slit but now she was bent over in front of the everyone, including her parents and grandparents who had of course wanted to come to support her final performance, see her off and get a taste of their special little girl, with her legs parted and showing what she had for breakfast! She felt exposed and vulnerable in a way that was totally different and far more extreme than when she and the other girls danced, for any practical sense, in the nude!

Her tight, wet cunt, glistening for everyone to see, was hungry for the spit and she could feel it! She thought of the sweet little boy from the changing room, how good he had felt inside her despite being quite small, although she knew that the spit was at least three times as thick. She knew that he and his party had a whole meat-girl to themselves so it was unlikely he’d be eating any of her but she had seen him watching from up on the balcony, clearly enjoying her dancing although perhaps not as much as his little sister who she had half expected to jump down onto the stage and join in, and she hoped he was watching and enjoying this part of the performance even more! Perhaps, she wondered, as he lay in bed alone, maybe using a meat-girl head as a toy to pleasure himself, he might sometimes think about her, remember the intimate moment they shared and how much he had enjoyed watching her get spitted?

The two men with the spit were stood behind her now, she could hear and feel them there even if she couldn’t actually see them. The audience of diners had mostly fallen silent and even the servers in the carvery had downed tools temporarily for the climax of the evening’s performance! For now, the hands holding her down were more or less just resting on her body – she would know that the spitting was about to begin when they applied more pressure. Like most girls from the dance group spitted in this way, Maria had been allowed to choose her escorts. Not only were they some of her best friends among the already intimate and sisterly group but they were girls that she trusted to do the job well, with the physical and mental strength to hold her firmly in place if her body tried to resist the sharp, steel invader or if she began to show more pain than expected.

The workers at Sidney’s were very good at their job, she knew that, and spitted multiple girls every night, both in public view and in the privacy of the kitchen, but things could still go wrong! This particular branch was very proud of it’s 96% success rate with live spittings, comfortably above the 92% average, but that still meant that four out of every hundred girls spitted did not survive the process, or suffered such severe internal trauma that they needed to be put out of their misery before the job was finished. None of her friends had every suffered such a fate, but she had seen it happen to other girls in her time. Things could go wrong with any spitting, she knew that. There were simply too many variables at play to guarantee a perfect result every time, but she also understood that the best chance of a successful live spitting relied on only on the skill of the spitter but perfect cooperation between them and the meat-girl, and that was what she hoped to offer.

There it was. The subtle increase of pressure from the eight hands holding her down that signalled her moment had come! If she had been embarrassed at presenting her eager young cunt to the diners, she felt even more so knowing that they were about to watch it so willingly violated by the gleaming, sharp-pointed phallus, but by far the greater feeling was one of arousal! What was the point of shame and awkwardness when you were food? She was about to be impaled, roasted and eaten and intended to enjoy as much of the process as she could!

The spit was not cold and had been oiled for a smooth passage. Maria moaned sweetly as it entered her, rubbing against her hard clit as it stretched out her vaginal passage. What felt like a jolt of electricity passed through her toned young body as the sharp tip encountered her cervix and began to push against it but whether the sensation was one of pleasure or pain she could not really say. There was discomfort, certainly, as it forced its way through the inner portal which was only meant to open in one direction but that was nothing compared to what she felt when it reached the top of her uterus. This was definitely pain, although it did not cause the pleasure to feel any less intense as the spit continued its journey. She could feel the wall of her tiny womb stretching, like an un-inflated balloon with a pencil being pushed inside it. How much could it stretch, she wondered? Big enough to hold a whole baby, but babies did not generally have sharp ends! Surely the spit must tear through soon, she already felt internally stretched beyond any rational limits! Recognising that her body was under attack, her brain tried to compensate with pain-killing and pleasure chemicals, seeking to enable her survival long enough to escape her attacker and seek help – help and escape she had no intention of pursuing! She began to feel dizzy. Time seemed to be standing still, the seconds stretching like her uterine wall.