Giggling, the two nominated volunteers began to strip off, stacking their clothes on a handy work-surface, the younger girl’s pile slightly neater than the teen’s but neither as neat as Emma nor as haphazard as the sisters.

“Everything?” the bespectacled girl asked, hesitating with her thumbs in the waistband of her panties. She did not yet have any need for a bra but her cute little puppy-fat tits stopped her plump figure from looking boyish. Mollie could not held appraising her with a professional eye and thinking she would make a great oven-roast, if maybe not quite an A-grade.

“Unless you want soggy undies for the rest of the day?” Mollie shrugged and gave a questioning smile as if to say that it was up to her. The girl giggled and pulled her panties down, folding them in half and laying them on the top of the small pile made by her jeans and t-shirt, her trainers, stuffed with her rolled-up socks sitting by its side.

Although she had been wondering the same thing, the older girl who had taken just half a minute longer to get down to her underwear realised that she now had had answer and reached behind her back to unhook her bra, slipping it off her shoulders and rolling them the way Emma had done when taking off hers. As she watched her cute fellow red-head pull off her panties, revealing a neat patch of hair confirming that the carpet matched the drapes, Mollie thought back to when she had first started to wear a bra and how uncomfortable it had been at first. She had been older than these girls, she remembered, fifteen and getting far too close to sixteen with only hint or development on her chest. She had been a skinny little girl and she supposed that hadn’t helped but, although she had started to fill out and look more womanly in her early to mid teens, her breasts seemed to have missed the memo.

There had been teasing from her peers, people meanly asking whether she ironed her shirts without taking them off, and generally making disparaging remarks but then, almost over night, it had felt, she had more than made up for lost time! She had started that school year flat-chested and come out with a bigger rack than the teacher! She envied these sweet young girls in their early teens with their cute, firm, age-appropriate boobies, a stage she felt like she had somehow skipped straight over. Still, nobody could accuse her of being an ironing board now and she was fairly sure that her lovely firm melons were what had made Courtney so keen to eat her. They certainly seemed to have been a hit with the Guides and she almost regretted putting them away for the rest of their visit but reminded herself that she needed to stay professional. She was at work, after all, and overseeing their official tour.

“Okay, great!” she grinned once both girls were completely nude. “Now, over here,” she directed the group’s attention, “we have the showers where we clean the meat before cooking. The soap in the dispenser on the wall,” she explained, “is a special kind formulated especially for piggies. It is scentless and tasteless so doesn’t risk spoiling the flavour of the meat, especially the skin for whole-roasts. You’ll find special rough sponges in there too, to really get the dirt out of the pores. I’d like you to take Marcia in there and get her ready for the oven!” The group parted and the two started to escort the excited meat-girl towards the tiled, open-fronted booth, the older girl with her hand on Marcia’s shoulder.

“Sorry you’re going to have to go through this all again tomorrow,” Mollie leaned down and spoke softly to her young friend as they passed, “but we want the demonstration to be authentic, don’t we?” Marcia nodded, grinning widely. “That’s my girl!” Mollie ruffled her hair. “Or should I say piggy?” The nine year old giggled, as did the two equally naked girls either side of her. “Have fun, all three of you!” She stood back up and grinned.

“Excuse me?” The younger girl who had helped to demonstrate the portable oven asked as her two friends began to scrub the eager little roaster.

“Yes, hon?” Mollie smiled down at her, warmly inviting her to ask her question.

“Do you all take your clothes off too when you have to wash a piggy?” she asked. “Aren’t you worried about getting mixed up sometimes?”

“Ah no.” Mollie admitted with a conspiratorial wink as if letting the whole group in on a juicy secret, a secret those under the gushing water of the shower would not be able to hear. “We actually have waterproof overalls that we put on over our uniforms so we don’t get them wet.” She pointed to a rack of blue, hooded onesies, made from the same thin and crinkly material as those raincoats that fold up small to be carried in a backpack for emergencies. “But we don’t have any in your sizes and I thought this way would be more fun!” The girls all giggled and the two other adults smiled and shook their heads in indulgent amusement.


To be continued...