A few minutes and a shared bottle of water, also provided by Mrs O’Sullivan, later, the girls took the towels off and handed them back.

“Think we might have over-done it a bit?” Natasha asked a little nervously, looking at her skin which was still very pink as if she had a light sun-burn all over.

“Yeah, perhaps!” Mollie agreed, winching a little as she experimentally touched her own belly. “Guess that’s what we get for having so much fun we forget how long we’ve been boiling, huh?” She looked over at the pot where Selena seemed to be back to partying with her own fingers while the younger girls giggled excitedly as the young men added the chopped vegetables and several brick-sized blocked of condensed puree which would turn the water in which they were currently simmering into a rich, thick tomato soup. “I think I’ll be leaving anything with elastic off for a while.” She smiled apologetically at the host. “If that’s okay with you, that is?”

“Oh sweetheart!” Mrs O’Sullivan chuckled. “I don’t think anyone’s going to be upset by getting to see a little more of you, so to speak! And I’m very grateful for you adding a little extra flavour to the stew, not to mention keeping my granddaughters entertained!” The girls in question were now standing back to back in the middle of the bubbling red soup that looked almost like molten lava, poking at pieces of vegetable that floated past with their cute, flat chests just visible above the surface, giggling as it spat up into their faces. “Are you okay to carry on or do you need to go inside out of the sun for a little bit?”

“I should be okay.” Mollie assured her with a thankful smile. “It will fade quite quickly, and I need to get Lydia ready to serve, but if Natasha wants to…”

“No, all good!” the younger future spit-roaster smiled. “Need me to come help with the grill or should I stay and keep an eye on the pot?”

“Come now!” her grandmother tutted affectionately. “For all the help you’ve been today, you’re going to get the first cut of...sorry, dear?” She turned to Lydia. “Your name’s gone completely out of my head!”

“Lydia!” the pretty blonde supplied with a friendly smile, taking no offence. “Don’t worry, it’s not like my name’s going to matter when you’re eating me up!”

“Be that as it may,” Mrs O’Sullivan chuckled affectionately, “I do think it’s common courtesy to remember someone’s name and I’m sorry I forgot yours!” Lydia was about to remind her that she had been introduced to a lot of new people from the team and assure her that it really didn’t matter but the kindly old lady had already turned back to Natasha. “You deserve the first cut of Lydia here! Anything you like! It’s my thank you to you.”

Warmed inside by this interaction and starting to feel more acclimatised to the ambient temperature once more, Mollie led the other naked girls over to the cooking area where the grill was nearly ready to cook on. Doug followed close behind as it would be his job to supervise the live buffet and Lydia gulped a little as she saw the array of fiendishly sharp knives set out ready for the guests to use on her delicious young body.

“If you’re having second thoughts, we can butcher you first.” Mollie offered kindly, hovering her hand just above Lydia’s shoulder as she feared her skin might still be a little too sensitive for the affectionately-meant touch to be welcome. “You know, cut your throat and empty you out. People can still help themselves to what they want off your body.”

“No.” Lydia told her resolutely. “That wouldn’t be nearly as much fun for them! It’s just seeing this all and knowing… It just suddenly all felt very real, you know?”

“Don’t worry.” Mollie reassured her. “I see it a lot. However much your brain knows you’re going to die, there’s that little moment when your heart catches up and it just takes a minute or two to readjust.” She thought of the hundreds of women, girls and boys she had been responsible for killing, whether directly or indirectly, over the course of her career. At least half of them, probably a lot more, had this moment when they saw the spit, or the axe that would take their head off, or the oven in which they would end their lives at the absolute reality of their situation hit home. What she had never had, and she considered this a matter of pride, was anyone pulling out at this pivotal moment, although they would have been well within their legal right to do so. “Do you need a minute?” she asked kindly.

“No.” Lydia replied with a brave and confident smile. “Let’s do this!”


To be continued...