Trying to maintain his brave face despite the anxiety he was feeling about what was to happen next, Carl smiled through gritted teeth as Mollie placed the tip of the barbed skewer into the hole at the end of his manhood and began to push. Stretching out his urethra as it travelled further and further in did make his eyes water but it was not as painful as he had been imagining since the tiny, hair-like barbs were pressed up against the main shaft of the skewer. It was only once it was all the way in and Mollie gave the sharp, hooked end a little tug that he felt their bite.

“They dig in to stop the skewer being pulled out.” Mollie explained, “but a lot of boys seem to like it, see?” She gently lifted and lowered the end of the skewer a few times, watching his face as she did so, and the immediate pain and discomfort he felt quickly gave way to a new sensation, one that he had not expected and which could really only be described as being masturbated from the inside! “How does it feel?”

“It feels… aaah!” Carl couldn’t help gasping, his eyes wide. “It feels… in...describable!”

“That’s what I like to hear!” Mollie grinned. “Now tell me, have you ever thought about getting a belly-button piercing?” she asked, pulling on the skewer but keeping it tugged this time, not releasing it as she had before.

“Can’t… say I have!” Carl managed to answer, a slightly apologetic smile on his face.

“Well you’re about to get one now!” Mollie informed him cheekily, pinching the skin at the bottom of his navel and pulling it out, away from his toned abs. “Ready?” She lined up the sharp tip of the hook on the end of the skewer and, without waiting for any sort of reply from the meat-boy, forced it through so that it held in place, tugging constantly on the sewer. “You’ll find if you roll your belly like this,” she demonstrated the move with her own, “you can pretty much do what I was doing before! Try to be a little discrete about it while you’re waiting,” she giggled, “but it’s a great thing to do to distract yourself once you’re on the spit! Well, congratulations!” she stepped back with her hands on her hips and a triumphant smile on her face. “You’ve officially passed the point of no return! Even a surgeon couldn’t get that out and leave you with a functioning penis! You’re officially meat now!”

Something about this statement gave Carl a lightness of spirit, as if some kind of weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Sure, he had no intention of backing out right from the time he arrived for his first inspection just three weeks ago but equally, knowing that he now could not even if he wanted to, felt like a relief. The satisfaction of knowing it was done deal and that he really had no say in what happened to him from now on was surprisingly liberating.

He knew the rules about volunteer meat. After all, the slogan “Until the chop, you can still say Stop!” was prominently displayed even in the reception of SB Catering, as well as being legally required on all relevant pamphlets and recruitment ads, whether in print, on TV, online or on the radio. In practice, it meant that a meat-boy or girl could pull out at any time during the process until some damage had been inflicted that they could not recover from, whether that be having their head cut off, hence the use of “Chop” in the slogan, their throat cut or their belly cut open, a chunk of meat removed or once they had been spitted. For those going in the oven without being gutted first, the point of no return was generally considered stuffing since that could only be reversed surgically and then with less than a fifty percent chance of success, and for those like the girls who would be going in the pot it was when they were too badly scalded to survive without urgent medical intervention.

“We probably should have got you to put your boots on before we did that!” Mollie observed, one arm folded across her chest and the other elbow resting on it as she tapped her lips thoughtfully with her finger. “Never mind, I’ll help you.” Grabbing the boots and socks for his costume from the table, she knelt down at his feet and had him raised first one foot then the other as she put on his socks and boots then tied his laces for him. Knowing that it was unprofessional but figuring he would not mind and, with only one week left to live, not really caring about the tiny risk of getting fired, Mollie stuck out her tongue and licked Carl’s engorged, skewered sausage from root to tip then faced him with a cheeky grin and gave him a light kiss on the lips. “There we are!” she grinned, happy and relieved to see that he did not seem to mind the liberties she had taken in the slightest. “All good to go! Now, let’s go see if the other boys are ready to head off!”


To be continued...