Suddenly, Maria felt a pop inside her, the feeling of something breaking like an elastic band stretched too far and time resumed its normal progression as the spit suddenly shot forward! It was deep inside her now, making its way through her abdominal cavity and approaching her chest. There could be no turning back now, although she had not entertained the thought of doing so for even a second. She was torn open inside, haemorrhaging internally, the spit doing more and more damage to her insides with every inch that it progressed. Even if they pulled the spit out of her, she was already a dead girl, it was only a matter of time.

The spit was passing her heart and lungs now. This, Maria knew, was the most dangerous part of the process and she was grateful for her strong friends holding her firmly in place, preventing her body’s hard-wired urge to fight for her survival. The spit must pass behind her organs for the live spitting to be successful. If it pierced her heart she would be dead in seconds, and puncturing her lung would cause a slightly slower but far more miserable death and she would not survive long enough to be put over the artificial coals, coughing up blood around her spit the whole time. Closing her eyes to help focus, Maria did her best to regulate her breathing, trying to keep her breaths shallow and even as she felt her heart pounding rapidly against the padded bench.

The spit continued to move up inside her, deeper and deeper, until Maria felt the tip scratching her throat from the inside. She coughed involuntarily, expecting the assistants to keep pushing it all the way out of her mouth, but instead they stopped and began once more, very slowly and carefully with the uneven weight of the spit well supported, to turn her. The four girls holding her down moved with her, not for a moment taking off their hands or reducing the pressure, and she wondered if they were going to turn her all the way around once more so that she would be facing the audience when the spit erupted but instead they stopped when she was turned half way, face towards the cooking area and the empty roasting pit that was waiting for her, and she realised it was so that they could see both ends at once and enjoy the spectacle as a spit pushed from one end emerged from the other. It was almost like an old-fashioned conjuring trick, although there was no illusion involved!

With the spitting bench turned so that the audience could see the full length of her body and the spit on which it was impaled, Maria felt the pressure behind her throat begin to build as the assistants resumed their pushing. She coughed once more and the girls holding down her shoulders applied a little more pressure. The wall of her throat was nowhere near as stretchy as her uterus but thicker and from her pussy, all the way up through her toned young body, she could feel the spit rotated as it was pushed to ease its passage. This made the sensation of feeling it inside her even more intense and she shuddered on orgasm and, as she gave one more powerful cough, the spit successfully bored its way through the back of her throat and out through her mouth, forcing her jaw open wide and scraping against her teeth as it emerged to that rapturous applause of the audience. The whole ordeal had lasted little more than twenty seconds which, to Maria, held felt like an eternity but now it was done. She was not a dancer any more, not a young girl with hopes, dreams, friends and hobbies, she was meat. Skewered on a spit and ready to cook! Now that the spitting was complete, the four girls who had held her down let go and quickly set to work removing the remaining parts of her costume – the visor, boots and socks. Maria cooperated as best she could although every attempt at movement sent another shudder of overwhelming sensation, greater and more intense than either pleasure or pain, through her body around the spit.

Once the meat-girl was entirely stripped, one of the assistants slid the anal stabiliser, mounted on its lockable ring, onto the end of the pole and slid it up towards Maria’s round and meaty rump. Obligingly, two of the girls pulled her cheeks apart, exposing and slightly opening her perfectly clean little ass hole which was even tighter than her pre-teen cunt and he pushed the eight inch rod inside, causing Maria to shudder even more violently and moan around the spit. Then, to the obvious delight of the audience, the entire dance group joined in coating Maria in soft butter from face to toe, swarming around her and treating the audience to a great show of cute, wiggling backsides as they did so. Finally, when she was fully buttered in all but the places rendered inaccessible by the bench, the cuffs were slid on to secure her wrists and ankles then the assistants turned the bench in a full circle, showing her off from every angle, then hoisted the spit up onto their shoulders, allowing some of the dancers to scamper under their impaled friend and finish the job. Her prep finally complete, Maria was carried slowly and carefully down the steps at the side of the stage, into the cooking area and locked into the mounts over the roasting pit where she started to slowly turn.
CHAPTER NINE

“She looks so pretty, doesn’t she?” Lucy sighed wistfully watching Maria on her spit while, following their tradition, the rest of the dancers waved and blew kisses towards their roasting friend before turning to the audience and giving another bow before filing off the stage, leaving the diners to resume their meals and the normal operation of the restaurant to continue.

“Don’t be getting any ideas!” her mum chuckled a little nervously but Ollie couldn’t help looking at his little sister and comparing her to the meat-girls he had seen cooking in the kitchen, some of whom had been only her age or even a little younger. She had just as cute and meaty a figure as any of them and he was sure she’d be every bit as delicious! He pictured her naked, buttered, and slowly roasting in the oven, or golden brown on a platter and ready to serve!

“Well I don’t know about anyone else,” their dad grinned, breaking the spell of the moment but giving voice to everyone’s thoughts, “but I’m really hungry after that!” As if on cue, a young woman in the red polo shirt of the Sidney’s wait-staff came out onto the balcony, smiling happily.

“Dinner is served!” the perky blonde grinned. “If you’d like to come through?” The family and their guests did not need telling twice and followed her excitedly back through to the dining room, gasping and exclaiming in delight at what they found when there. It seemed that the kitchen assistants, chef and pair of waitresses responsible for looking after them had taken advantage of how distracted they were by the dance and spitting performance to lay out the food without anyone noticing so that their first impression of the meal would be seeing it complete. It is often said among those who prepare and serve food that the first bite is taken with the eye, expressing the importance of good presentation, and if that is true then that first bite in this case was a feast all of its own!

The entire meal was set out on a large wooden “Lazy Susan” wheel which took up most of the circular table, although leaving plenty of room around the edge of the diners’ plates, cutlery and drinks, so that it could be turned allowing those sat around to access what they wanted without things having to be awkwardly passed across the table. There were dishes of crisp, lightly-steamed vegetables, sautéed potatoes, a creamy mash made from potato, carrot and swede, big bowls of leafy salad and an assortment of gravies and sauces to suit every taste. Then in the middle, on a large platter atop a bed of lettuce leaves and sprigs of herbs, lay Becky’s deliciously fried body, headless of course and reclined on her side like Cleopatra, one knee bent and the other leg stretched out, propped up with the aid of a discrete metal support on one elbow with the other hand resting on her hip, leaving the “tits and ass” she had been so proud of equally accessible.

It had never occurred to Ollie that a girl without a head could look so beautiful but as he watched Becky slowly turning in front of him, he skin now dark brown, crispy but unbroken, he thought she was even sexier than when she had been alive.

“So, Birthday Boy!” the blonde waitress grinned at him, picking up the carving knife and fork, “What will it be?” Ollie gulped, looking in awe at the delicious meat and wanting to eat all of it, but, knowing that he needed to share and anyway eating a whole girl by himself would be impossible, he tried to narrow it down.

“A ti… I mean a breast, please.” He smiled awkwardly. “And some rump?”

“Coming right up!” the waitress giggled, pushing the fork into Becky’s lovely firm left breast, just above the nipple which was now the same colour as the rest of her skin but no less prominent, and starting to cut. Steam rose as she sliced into the tender meat, the skin cracking to reveal the perfect, moist white meat beneath. After placing the whole breast on the young boy’s plate, she carefully turned the wheel and cut two thick slices from Becky’s buttock. The meat within was cooked to perfection, just a little pink in the middle. “Oh and of course…” she grinned, chuckling a little at Ollie’s confusion. She turned the wheel again and his confusion was short-lived as she carefully sliced the plump vulva from the fascinating roast and added it to his selection.

Since she sat between the two siblings, Tiffany was next to be served and she requested rump and thigh. Lucy received the remaining breast and everyone happily helped themselves to sauces and sides while the rest of the table was served, the other waitress working her way around the table in the opposite direction topping up the wines, beers and soft drinks as needed.

Everyone was having a lovely time around the table, left to help themselves to more Becky meat as and when they wanted it and everyone making an effort to include Tiffany in the conversation and make her feel welcome just as if she were part of the family. The hormone-filled meat was having a far greater effect on Ollie than simply making his belly feel full – despite how sore he still felt and all the action he had got one way or another as part of the kitchen tour, his willy was rock hard, straining painfully against his underpants and his little balls ached. He kept shooting furtive looks at the beautiful young girl by his side, wondering if she might be feeling the same kind of desire and hoping there might be a way she could give him a discrete hand-job under the table. He was just trying to decide whether it would be okay to ask her, and even if he could get away with doing so with all his family sat around, or whether he should try to relieve himself without anyone noticing, either right there under the table or excuse himself and go to the bathroom to take care of it when Lucy made quite a show of knocking her fork onto the floor and slipped down off her chair to retrieve it.

When she had not emerged after a few seconds, Ollie was confused but then tried his best not to let the shock show on his face when he heard a soft giggled from between his knees and felt his trousers being unzipped and a pair of warm lips closed around his throbbing erection. Despite his efforts, he was not quite as discrete as he might have hoped to be and quickly noticed his mum looking over with a quizzical expression on her face. He wondered if he was about to get told off and Lucy ordered back onto her chair but instead his mum just shook her head in amusement and resumed the conversation with her in-laws and sipping her wine. There was no way that others around the table did not notice, especially Tiffany who was sat on one side of Ollie and his dad who sat on the other but nobody made any comment and instead focussed on their meal as Becky’s carcass was rapidly reduced to a pile of greasy bones on which only little scraps of meat remained.

Gripping the edge of the table tightly was the only way Ollie could find to disguise as he came close to orgasm and when his little sister’s tongue finally pushed him over the edge. He was breathing heavily and trying to regain his composure when Madeline, the manager, came in followed by another kitchen assistant pushing a dessert trolley. In her hands she was holding a large, square cardboard box, like a hat-box, made of sturdy card with a glittery pink finish. Grateful to feel his trousers being zipped up again, Ollie smiled up at her with curiosity.

“I hope the dinner was to your satisfaction?” the smartly-dressed woman grinned. Everyone around the table nodded and expressed how much they had enjoyed their feast of fried Becky. “Wonderful to hear!” she smiled proudly. “I think Ollie made an excellent choice of meat-girl and having her cooked in that way was certainly a rare treat! But speaking of treats…” she grinned again, her eyes sparkling, “It’s my great pleasure to present you with this souvenir of your visit, with our compliments!” She set the box down in front of Ollie just as Lucy was scrabbling her way back onto her seat, licking her lips and wiping around them with her fingers.

Knowing what must be inside, Ollie looked at the box in fascination. All around the table, the adults had stopped their conversations to concentrate on watching him open his gift and the girls leaned in for a closer look. The lid of the box was emblazoned with the Sidney’s logo, the swirly gold facsimile of Sidney Roebuck’s autograph complete with a heart dotting the “I”, diagonally across it. A little nervously, he lifted off the lid and set it aside, seeing underneath a piece of gold-coloured satin laying across and concealing the treasure inside. Carefully, he lifted it off, letting it hang over the side of the box, and saw Becky’s beautiful, cheeky face grinning up at him.

Gasping in delight, his reached in and lifted it out of its nest of gold satin over a polystyrene concave rest. The skin felt soft and lifelike and surprisingly warm. He had rather expected it to feel like rigid plastic or cold and clammy like meat out of the fridge but, were it not for the complete absence of body, he could have believed that she was still alive! The permanently open eyes were glass replacements, of course, but an almost perfect match for her own and certainly held a life-like twinkle. Her hair had been washed, dried and styled back into how it had appeared when they first met, with the two high bunches on either side and a split fringe framing her cutely round face. The mouth was grinning and slightly open, showing her real teeth behind the full lips which had been carefully stained to give a lifelike pinkness. A little over two inches of neck terminated in a supple gold rubber cap with “A Happy Ending from Sidney’s” embossed around it.

“I hope you like it!” the manager grinned. “We were so happy we were able to preserve her so well despite the cooking method. I must say I’m very proud of our team for that!” Ollie nodded his agreement, a little dumbstruck by the beauty and quality of his very special souvenir, and others around the table expressed their own admiration for the skill and craftsmanship involved. “The jaw is articulated,” she continued, “and there’s an instruction booklet in the bottom of the box covering use, cleaning and proper care. Oh,” she grinned again, “and we’ve also included an envelope with copies of Becky’s application photos as a little extra memento!”

“Thank you so much!” Ollie gushed, looking from Becky’s head to the manager and back again. “It’s perfect! Just like her meat!”

“Well I’m sure she’d be pleased to know that!” the manager chuckled warmly. “And I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun together in the future!” This observation elicited a blush from Ollie and chuckles and giggles from everyone else around the table. “Well if everyone’s finished with the main course I’ll have this all cleared away,” she gestured at the ravaged remains that had once been Becky, “and leave you to enjoy the desserts! Do help yourselves to as much as you’d like and if we can find any meat left on the carcass,” she chuckled, looking at the almost entirely picked-clean bones, “we’ll package it up for you to take home.”

She turned to leave but then seemed to remember something else. She turned to Tiffany and put a hand on her shoulder.

“I must say that dress really suits you!” she smiled. “It’s yours to keep, of course, but do come and see me before you leave. I’ve had an email come through from Head Office just now that I think will be quite interesting to you!” Intrigued but realising that if the manager wanted to discuss the matter in front of the family she would have simply told her about it rather than cryptically asking for a meeting, Tiffany agreed and tried to suppress her curiosity until later. Madeline was just about to leave once more to go about her other managerial duties when Lucy called out to her.

“Excuse me?” the sweet little girl asked, to be met with a polite, professional but no less friendly smile. “Can anyone join the dance group or do you have to try out?”

“I believe they always welcome new members!” Madeline grinned. “As you can imagine, we’d not have much of a group left if we didn’t add fresh meat on a regular basis!” Lucy giggled at this very apt euphemism but her mother looked a little disapproving and was reassured by a comforting hand on the shoulder from her husband. “You may need to attend a few practices before you get up on stage with the more experienced girls but they’re a very welcoming bunch and I’m sure they’d be happy to have you come along to a few sessions and see if it feels like a good fit?” With Ollie still lost in wonder as he stared at his special gift, Lucy beamed happily. “I’ll have a flyer brought up to you,” the manager promised, “then you can take it from there!”

“Thank you!” Lucy grinned, positively glowing with happiness and excitement. “Who knows? One day I might even get to be Star of the Show!”

THE END