Once both ankles were pierced, the butcher asked Sarah to start turning a crank handle at the side of the frame then stood behind Helen, lifting her off the stool with his strong arms under hers. Gradually, the mechanism lifted the feet at the end of her long, elegant legs higher and higher until the butcher was able to gently lower her down, leaving her to hang like the catch of the day by the fishing dock.

“How does it feel?” Sarah asked curiously, pushing the handle up to lock the winding mechanism in place.

“Like my whole world’s been turned upside down!” Helen giggled, demurely allowing Mr Rogers to cable-tie her wrists together behind her back to keep her arms from flailing as she was slaughtered. “These feel kinda heavy ‘though!” she looked up at her breasts which were being tugged forward, practically falling in her face, the skin on the underside where they joined her chest visibly straining.

“Good thing they’ve coming off then!” Sarah reminded her with a grin before adding wistfully. “Too bad I don’t get to eat one!”

“Yeah but you’ve tasted them more than anyone else!” Helen countered with a cheeky grin. “That’s got to count for something, right?” True to Helen’s prediction, virtually all of the guests, even including Mike, had made their way over from the roasting pits to enjoy the spectacle of the two young women being butchered. Adeola was among them, as were Henry and Clive, the dads of both girls, who had been assured by the women coopted to help with the cooking that it was okay for them to abandon their posts for a few minutes to go watch the show.

Unlike he cousin who had tried to be discrete in satisfying the itch between her legs while she watched Andi being spitted, Sarah shamelessly reached down and slipped her fingers into her own meaty fillet as the butcher picked up the knife that would be used to make her lover flat-chested for the first time since she was nine years old. Most eyes, after all, would be focussed on Helen for her big moment and, if anyone did look over at her, Sarah could not imagine anyone being upset with her for wanting to make the most of the show. Either way, she would be dead in ten minutes so what did she have to feel embarrassed or shy about? If there was ever one time in her life when she could do absolutely whatever she liked with no consequences or regret then it was now!

With the knife in one hand, Mr Rogers cupped Helen’s right breast with the other and pressed the blade against the strained join and began to slice. Helen gave a sigh of pleasure as the dark red blood began to well up. The butcher cut deeper and deeper, severing the creamy tissue from her chest, drawing the knife back and forth until the delicious, heavy breast came away in his hand.

“Wow! I feel so much lighter already!” Helen exclaimed as her severed breast was placed on the folding table set out for the meat and the blood from the wound on her chest trickled up over her collar-bone and onto her face. In a matter of seconds, her left breast joined the right on the table. “Go on, now!” the beautiful dark-skinned young woman whose intelligence and charm was such that she could have had any future career she wanted such as doctor, lawyer or anything else she set her sights on but instead had chosen to be food urged. “Finish me off! Make me meat!” The butcher drew his blade across her throat, cutting deeply and causing her to gurgle and splutter as the blood bubbled out onto the grass.

Dropping to her knees, not out of despair but because they would no longer support her, Sarah moved from gentle, almost-subtle stroking to furious and loud masturbation as the butcher made short work of reducing her lover to a stripped skeleton and a pile of fresh meat. The whole process, from Helen extending her foot to be hooked to her skeleton being taken down from the frame and tossed into a wheelbarrow, ready to be added to the stew, had taken less than fifteen minutes. Now it was Sarah’s turn.

After waiting a couple of minutes to allow her to finish what she had started, Mr Rogers carefully helped his second meat-girl to her feet and guided her over to the stool then used a clean rag to wipe her girlfriend’s blood from the meat-hooks.

“Do you want the same?” he asked as Sarah offered her left leg unprompted, having learned the routine from watching her love. “Breasts off first?”

“Actually,” Sarah smiled at him a little coyly, gripping the sides of the stool to try to keep from reacting as the sharp steel hook was pushed through the back of her ankle, “I was wondering if you could go a bit further than that? Could you take off as much of my meat as possible while I’m still alive? I really want you, you know, properly feel what it’s like to get butchered!” She licked her lips involuntarily.”

“You know,” the butcher replied carefully, taking her right foot in his hand and leaving the left to hang supported by the chain that the hook was at the end of, “as part of my training there was a challenge like that. Sort of an initiation thing we had to do before we could quality.” Sarah looked at him curiously. “The idea was to completely butcher a piggy while she was still alive and for her heart to still be beating at the end. I didn’t quite win the prize for doing it the fastest but my time was pretty darn good and the instructor did say my butchering was the cleanest. Four minutes and eight seconds.” he informed her proudly but in a conversational tone as he let go of her freshly-pierced second foot. “I’ve done it a couple of times since but never beaten that record yet. Want to help me try again?”

“Sure!” Sarah grinned. “Sounds like a blast! Okay, who’s got their phone on them?” she called out to the guests. Of course most of them did but few were willing to sacrifice the chance to photograph or film what was about to happen to fulfil her request. “I need someone to time my butchering.”

“I’ll do it!” Mike, Shelly’s boyfriend volunteered with a friendly smile, holding up his phone already open on the relevant app.

“Great! Thank you so much!” Sarah beamed at him, understanding why her little cousin loved him so much. “When exactly should he start and stop?” she asked Mr Rogers.

“Start when my blade first touches her skin,” he answered, looking at Mike rather than at Sarah, “and stop when I pull her heart out.” Mike nodded and Sarah bit her lip, feeling a level of arousal and excitement she had not thought possible, even greater than that which she had felt while watching her love reduced to the deliciously appetising cuts which now sat on one side of the table, waiting for the grill. As he had done with Helen, the butcher lifted Sarah under her arms, asking one of the guests who was standing near by to wind the handle until he was able to let her hang. “Trying your hands would get in the way of the challenge,” he explained to Sarah, “so just try not to thrash around too much, okay?”

“I’ll do my best!” Sarah giggled, feeling a little dizzy and light-headed from hanging upside down with all the blood rushing to her head.

“That’s the spirit!” chuckled Mr Rogers. “Ready?” he looked over, knife in hand, at Mike who nodded, holding up his phone with his thumb posed to start the stopwatch. “And… Go!”


To be continued...