(This is a sequel to "Boy Barbecue" but can hopefully be enjoyed on its own too)

Four Weeks Notice
By
Edward Hyde
Having worked over the weekend, Mollie had Monday off but on Tuesday morning she arrived at work and greeted Gina at reception then went to the small admin office she shared with four of the other senior caterers, all of whom were older than her but they all got on very well, two men and two women. First she checked her emails, seeing a thank you message from her client Janice saying how much her daughter Megan had enjoyed the Sidney party on Saturday and how much the whole family was looking forward to the Anniversary party at the upcoming weekend where their daughter where Mollie would be in charge of roasting Megan herself. The pretty, busty red-head in her early twenties smiled and dashed off a quick reply before seeing what else was waiting in her inbox. There were a number of receipts from suppliers and responses to invoices and quotes as well as a few internal memoranda and bits of general trade news but amongst the twenty or so unread emails that had accumulated on her day off were six enquiries about joining the company’s inventory, four of which were from girls who had been at the party, three requests for service-only quotes where the meat would be provided on site and the one she had really been looking for – an email from Courtney, the sweet, chubby blonde from the party who had been interested in having Mollie herself for her birthday dinner!

The company Mollie worked for, SB Catering, originally established in Edinburgh but now with branches all over the Britain, offered two primary services, both of which had two sub-variants. The first was to provide a cooked boy, girl, man or woman for a party, depending on the needs and desires of the client, and these could either be cooked on site or prepared fully at their facility where her office was located and delivered to the venue in one of their special heat-preserving containers, ready to serve upon arrival. For these jobs, the company kept a database, known as the Inventory, of volunteers who would be matched with the job profile based on information provided by the client who, once the volunteer had agreed to the purchased and confirmed their availability, would be sent a file on the selected meat-person, containing their photographs and relevant statistics but no identifying information. Incidents in the past had shown them that it was better to save any personal introductions until the event itself.

The other service they offered was to cook a person provided by the client, usually a family member such as in Megan’s case or someone who had been arranged privately like Timothy. This option was especially popular for weddings where the bulk of the food nearly always came from within the wedding party and were family and friends of the couple. As with the full service options, the meat could be prepared on site or delivered ready to cook.

Unable to help wriggling a little in her seat, Mollie opened the email from Courtney. It was not a formal application or enquiry, just a short message confirming that she was definitely interested and that her parents were open to the idea, depending on cost, and asking what the next steps would be. Biting her lower lip, Mollie replied explaining that she would send a formal quote later that morning and asking the teen to confirm the date and location of the party, also whether they wanted the meat delivered ready to serve or cooked on site and, if so, by which method. She was almost certain that Courtney and her brother would want to watch her roasting alive on a spit but she needed to ask. If she did not get a reply by the time she was typing up the quote, she reasoned, she could just send both options. She had not mentioned this particular conversation to her co-workers on their drive back to base after the party on Saturday, wanting to keep it to herself until a slightly more concrete arrangement was made. If Courtney and her family accepted the quote, she decided, she would make an announcement to everyone at the same time but, for the moment, it remained just a hypothetical and her own delicious secret!

Quickly but without rushing, she worked through the rest of her emails, acknowledging the bookings and adding them to the diary and sending out replies to those who had enquired about being added to the Inventory, sending them the relevant forms and offering an inspection date. With her admin up to date, at least until people started replying, and no appointments for the next two hours, she locked her computer and, grinning to herself, headed to the inspection room.

Humming cheerfully to herself, Mollie turned on the lights and locked the door from inside which, she knew, would change the colour flash above the handle on the outside from green to red, indicating that the room was in use, then she turned on the computer terminal and unhurriedly removed her clothes while she waited for it to boot up.

The was not the first time she had got naked in the inspection room. Depending on how busy they were at the time new hires were taken on and whether there were any volunteers booked in at suitable times, it was not too uncommon for staff members, especially the younger ones like herself and the boys who had assisted at the party, to be asked to stand in for training purposes so the new hires could be shown how to properly assess a volunteer’s meat and understand the steps required. There was definitely a thrill she always felt at removing her clothes in such a room, even more so than she had felt at the party even ‘though it had been far more public. Going naked at a pool party where all the other guests were dressed the same, even if their token outfits were in tribute to the world’s best-known meat-girl, was one thing but undressing in a room while solely existed for inspecting human meat was quite another matter! Even ‘though the previous occasions had been purely for training purposes, she had still felt that special tingle. This time, given that she had the full intention of selling herself to an eager client, it felt a hundred times more intense!

With younger volunteers it was normal for at least one chaperone to be present for the inspection so there were a couple of spare chairs near the computer terminal and Mollie used one of these to hang her uniform polo-shirt and trousers over, tucking her shoes neatly out of the way underneath, socks rolled up inside. Next she unhooked her rather sturdy bra, feeling the sense of relief she always experienced when removing it and letting her large breasts which were still as perky and firm as those of a teen but were heavy enough to require support breath freely, even ‘though she had only had her bra on for a couple of hours so far that day. She dropped this onto the seat of the chair then tugged down her panties, leaving herself completely naked and ready for inspection.

Resisting the urge to see to the very particular itch between her legs and remembering that she had a job to do, Mollie approached the terminal and opened a new volunteer file. In keeping with data protection rules and general protocol, the profiles of any volunteers who decided not to move forward with their sale after the inspection or, indeed, those like herself who had stood in for a volunteer for training purposes, were always wiped so there was no existing record of her on the Inventory database. For a moment, after filling in her name and date of birth, Mollie pondered whether to list herself as Private Inventory, meaning that, like Timothy, she had been purchased for a specific event by the client or Public which would mean she was theoretically available to be ordered by anyone if her profile fit their requirements, deciding for the moment to set her status to Private, at least until she had heard back from her potential customer.

With the basics filled in, she went over to the scale and took a note of her weight then used the adjustable gauge to accurately record her height. She then took the tape-measure, the same kind used by dress-makers, and measured the circumference of her thighs and biceps as well as hips, waist and bust, recording them all on her profile. Now, she thought, for the fun bit!

The appraisal process was broken down into a number of categories, different criteria for boys and for girls with variations for age, each receiving a mark out of ten, awarded in increments of half-points. At the end, an average of each score would provide the meat girl or boy’s over-all grade with a score of five or less being D-grade and usually resulting in rejection from the public inventory, 5.5-7 being a C-grade, 7-8 earning a B-grade and 8.5 and above being A-grade. A perfect score of 10 would result in an A+ but these were incredibly rare. Mollie only remembered having encountered meat of this grade twice in all the time she had worked there and had no illusions about earning it herself.

Still humming cheerfully, she opened the digital form as she had done many times before and selected the categories “Female” and “Age 21-25” to bring up the correct questions, each with a short description of the marking criteria beside it and a slider for the score, with 0 on one end and 10 on the other with half-point increments being marked along the length. Of course there was nothing to stop her simply giving herself full marks in every category but that would be cheating and, both for the sake of professional integrity and her own pride, she wanted to know that she had earned the grade she came out with and resolved to judge her own body and fairly and dispassionately as she would any other volunteer.


To be continued...