Despite enjoying a glass of wine or two with her friends, Beth had never been someone that alcohol effected too deeply and today was no exception. Certainly the wine they had all been knocking back at quite a rate helped to numb her sensations and made enduring the heat of the broth in which she sat bearable, as well as relaxing her for what was to come, but she was in no way out of her senses and understood exactly what was about to happen as Adeola tugged her head upwards by her hair. Following Laura’s example and sitting on her hands, she could feel her neck stretching as her shoulders were kept in place, exposing her throat to the blade that her friend and fellow organiser had shown herself more than competent with. As the knife was drawn from beneath one ear to the other, she expected it to hurt, or at least to burn, but the sensation was peculiarly not like being cut at all but more like being karate-chopped in the throat, or how she imagined that would feel at least, having thankfully never experienced it for real. This was followed almost immediately with the uncomfortable sensation of her throat being full, as if she had accidentally taken a gulp of water in the sea or swimming pool but when she tried to cough it up, she seemed to have difficulty expelling it from her mouth. Bloody saliva bubbled out and she felt a hot, tricking sensation on her chest as if more near-boiling water were being poured down in.

Not hesitating for a moment, Adeola continued to cut all the way around Beth’s neck, down to the bone. As her muscles were sliced through, Beth experienced a strange sensation of floppiness, finding it impossible to hold her head up like a newborn baby or a marionette with its strings cut. She has expected her vision to blur when the end came but, with her spine as the only thing keeping her head attached to her body, it was actually her hearing that went first. It must only have taken a matter of seconds, there was no way it could be otherwise, but in the same way time often slows down for people experiencing a car crash or some other traumatic event, Beth felt fully aware of the changes as first things started to sound distorted, as if she were under water, then very distant and finally silent. She could not feel anything below her neck but Adeola’s strong hands on her cheeks felt warm and comforting as she took hold. There was a sharp twist followed by a snap which she felt rather than heard and only then did her vision begin to fade, starting with a darkness around the edges which slowly closed inwards like the end of an old movie. Everything she was looking at seemed to slow down, like watching a film in slow motion, one frame at a time. As Adeola carried her towards the spikes, Beth observed the world around her take on an over-saturated look before the colours faded to monochrome, the darkness at the edge of her vision creeping ever inwards until there was only a dot of white light in the middle. She felt the spike in her neck, piercing the roof of her mouth, but before she could quite make up her mind how she felt about it, she was gone.

“Well?” Adeola rounded on her husband rather sternly. “What are you still standing there for?” She rolled her eyes at the blank expression on his face. “Go fetch the scraps from the other piggies!” She told him. “Add them to the pot! Nothing wasted, remember?” Rather sheepishly, he hurried off and returned a minute later pushing the wheelbarrow with the mostly skeletal remains of what had been Sarah and Helen inside. The only parts not completely stripped of meat being sections of their hands and feet and a little around some joints. Mr Rogers had sorted their edible organs from the scrap but these would be either going on the grill or baked in foil directly in the coals. Together, slightly awkwardly since a skeleton held together by bits of connective tissue is far more unwieldy than a whole body, even one that is a dead weight, the two dads managed to transfer the remnants of their daughters into the pot, breaking parts off and dropping them in to help them fit and settle. Although there was not a lot of meat left on them, the bones would add to the over-all flavour of the stew.

Once the wheelbarrow had been emptied, two of the women went to the kitchen and came back with washing-up bowls filled with peeled and chopped potatoes and other vegetables which they added to the pot. Adeola then mixed in the thick, concentrated red-wine stock which would give the liquid a more viscous quality then, with all the ingredients in place, the dads were tasked with lifting the heavy iron lid onto the pot so that the meat within could begin to cook properly.

With all the major “set pieces” of the afternoon’s entertainment complete, the guests had now simply to wait for the food to be ready to enjoy! Likely to be ready first was the meat from the two young women, the first expertly-butchered parts of which were now ready to go on the grill.

Wanting to honour her young volunteer’s promise, Adeola took charge of one of Sarah’s breasts, cutting deep scores in the meat over which she drizzled honey diluted with a little apple cider, then used wooden toothpicks to fix pineapple rings onto it, including one cheekily placed around the nipple, then wrapping the whole thing in foil and placing it directly into the coals to bake. Her remaining breast, along with both of Helen’s, were cut into thick slices and placed in skillets on the grill, some with garlic butter, some with more of the honey and cider mix and some with a sweet chilli sauce. As visually appealing as they were and as much as they were considered prestige cuts, Adeola understood that large breasts really did not have a lot of natural flavour and tasted mostly of whatever they were cooked in, the creamy texture of the meat meaning they absorbed and soaked up flavours delectably.

Hey younger daughter’s, she knew, would be a little more flavoursome but not by much, given how big they were for her age. However, she relied on the fact that anyone who took a slice would likely garnish the meat with fried onions and other condiments which would go some way towards masking the rather bland flavour of the meat itself. As the smallest of all the meat-girls on the menu that day, it was Shelly’s tits that were likely to be the tastiest and she wanted to make sure that her sweet boyfriend who had been so helpful throughout the day got a whole one to himself. Really the best and most delicious breast-meat was that of a young girl between the ages of eleven and thirteen, right at the beginning of puberty, with tiny but incredibly rich and tasty little tits, but there were none of those on the menu that day!

With nothing more apparently required of him, Mike returned to the roasting pits to watch Shelly as she slowly turned from teenage girl to delicious roast. He has thought he would be sad as he watched her turning over the coal, upset or angry even, but instead all he could think of was how incredibly sexy she looked on her spit as the orange glow of the coals reflected on her gleaming, well-basted young body. He knew how much she had wanted this. She had made no secret of it. Right from the early days of their relationship, before they were even officially dating, she had confided how exciting she found the idea of being cooked and eaten. When Andi had called her to invite her to be on the menu for this party, therefore, it had come as no surprise to him that she had not even asked for an hour or so to think about it before enthusiastically agreeing!

Although Shelly had been his first proper girlfriend, his experience with the other party guests, who he suspected Shelly herself to have put up to keeping him occupied, had opened Mike’s eyes to a whole world of possibilities and he would be leaving the party with at least three more numbers in his phone. On top of that, he would get to enjoy the first slices of Shelly’s delicious meat! That had been her one stipulation for participating. Life was good.

On their spits, the two teen piggies were slowing down now, still rocking their hips to hump the steel poles on which they were impaled but with nothing like the urgency or energy they had exhibited just half an hour before. There was no longer any need to chase a climax. Their entire existence had become one long orgasm that would last the rest of their lives! Neither really felt the intense heat from the coals any more, the nerve-endings having long ago been destroyed as their delicate skin turned to delicious, crispy crackling. All they felt now was a euphoria that made them giddy, a more powerful high than any drug could have produced. They were on a different plane of existence now. Something all together new and utterly wonderful. They knew that they were meat, could smell the delicious aroma of their own roasting flesh, and when their hearts finally gave out, ending their mortal lives forever, neither of them even really noticed.


To be continued...