The girls all chatted happily for a few more minutes and were joined by two more, a sweet, tall girl of around thirteen who kept her glasses on, making her somehow appear even more naked, and a pretty brunette turkey of nine years old. All the girls, Samantha and Amelia noticed, including the teens who had already gone with the butcher, had A-grade stamps on their rumps just like Samantha’s.

“I really hope I can get my grade up!” Amelia sighed quietly, looking the naked girls over and trying to work out where her body differed from theirs.

“You will!” Samantha encouraged her. “In fact, if they weren’t so busy today, I’d suggest getting looked over now but they seem to have their hands rather full!”

“Yeah…” Amelia agreed, watching as a couple with two very excited young children were handed the Christmas hamper they had ordered. Like the ones from the slaughter house they had heard about at the fair, this one also consisted of an oven-ready torso, referred to as a turkey crown, and a ham along with a couple of bottles and packets they couldn’t quickly identify under the rather reflective cellophane wrapper. What made these ones really stand out, however, was that the stick-on label did not just bear the company logo and a description of the contents but also three photographs of the girl the meat had come from – full-body front and back and a close-up head and shoulders portrait along with their name and age. “Do you really think I might have improved already?” Amelia asked.

“I’m sure you have!” Samantha assured her. “You joined the swimming club at school and you’ve been riding your bike a lot, not to mention all the workouts you’ve been having with my Dad!” They both giggled. “Plus you’ve eaten girl-meat now, which always makes you taste better!” she informed her confidently. “And you’re going to be eating even more soon!”

“Can I have the next three turkeys?” the butcher’s wife called from behind the counter. The sisters and Zahra got up, all running excitedly to their mums for a last hug and words of encouragement before heading over to the gap in the counter.

“Does anyone mind if I go and watch?” Laura asked the other two mothers who were waving their daughters off cheerfully, promising that they would be delicious. “It’s just that I’m preparing our own turkey on Saturday,” she gestured towards Samantha who was chatting with excitedly with Emily and the newcomers, “and I need to get some advice. I’ve already asked the owner but I thought it was polite to check with you too.”

“No problem my end!” the mother of the sisters smiled. “Go right ahead!”

“Fine by me, too!” Zahra’s mum assured her.

“Great! You stay with the girls,” Laura told her husband, “and enjoy watching Emily get butchered! Don’t forget to film it if you can?”

“I won’t forget!” Josh chuckled, giving her a quick kiss before she followed the turkeys into the special room that had been set up for processing them. For most of the year it was a chilled storage area but it had been a slaughter room during the second world war and so had the appropriate drainage and fittings for meat-hooks, even if it lacked the modern conveniences of the main one that the butcher was using.

“This is Laura.” The butcher’s wife introduced her to the two workers in the room, a man and woman of around the same age, both of whom were dressed in blood-splattered overalls. “This is Jeff and his wife Susan who are very kindly helping us out today.” The couple, who were wiping down a rather short, stubby guillotine, stopped to welcome her with cheerful smiles. “Laura wanted to watch the prep process and ask some questions, if that’s okay?”

“Sure!” Susan wiped her hands on a rag and picked up a spare, clean overall. “You might want to put this on.” she suggested. “It can get a little messy in here.” Samantha took it gratefully, thanking the other woman for her thoughtfulness, and slipped it on over her clothes.

While Jeff was preparing the rest of the equipment, Susan took the girls over to a festive backdrop that had been stuck up on the wall, depicting a cosy log cabin scene like the type that might be used as a background for Santa pictures, complete with snowy forest scene outside the window. It was very similar, in fact, to the stock image Laura had used for some of Samantha’s pictures a few weeks earlier. In front of it, slightly off to one side, was a prettily decorated Christmas tree with presents stacked underneath.

One by one, the girls stood next to the tree, smiling and turning as requested so the friendly lady could photograph the front and back of their delicious naked bodies on the camera that was set up on a stand and connected to a laptop on a small table next to the backdrop on which also sat what Laura recognised as a label printer. Susan also zoomed in on each girl for a nice portrait. After photographing each girl, she typed their information into the laptop to create the label that would go on all identifiable portions of their meat then showed it to them for approval.

“Right!” she picked up a larger marker pen and checked her clip-board. “Where’s Kelly?” The girl raised her hand. “Lovely! So I’ve got down here that we’re selling all your meat. Is that correct?” She nodded. “Great! And Becky?”

“Here!” the cute little piglet raised her hand and gave a little wave.

“We’re sending your Mummy home with an oven-ready turkey crown, is that right?” Becky nodded enthusiastically. “And we get to sell the rest?” She agreed again. “Perfect! Okay, push out your tummy for me!” Giggling, the little girl did as she was told and the woman drew a big X on it with the pen. “Don’t worry,” she assured her, “it’s fully washable! Just helps us remember which which bits belong to who! Now, you must be Zahra?” she turned to the pretty olive-skinned girl who nodded in confirmation. “Now I see your parents have reserved a ham? Which one would you like them to have?” The girl looked thoughtful for a moment, looking down at her thighs and turning her head to look from one to the other.

“Um, this one, please!” she smiled, patting left thigh. Grinning, Susan drew a prominent X on it then informed her husband, who had been setting out baskets on a table safely outside the “splatter zone” and packing them out with green paper straw, that they were ready to get started.


To be continued...