>>29231
Very interesting start! Looking forward to more 😁

3

By midweek, Ayala’s mind raced with anxiety as she sat alone in her corner office, which now felt too big. Remi had only been on staff for three days, and Ayala felt like the culture had changed overnight. Ayala wasn’t sure what Remi actually DID at Thompson Cookware, all she SEEMED to do was walk around and gossip with co-workers, their laughter echoing through the 38th floor. Remi was single handily lowering production and productivity every minute, and yet, everyone seemed happier.

Remi never visited Ayala in her office like she did everyone else. At first, Ayala was grateful, but later, she felt left out, as if she were being deliberately ignored. She also had an eerie feeling when she walked through the floor, like her co-workers were starting to look at her differently; that somehow, their perceptions of her had changed.

Ayala had worked so hard to be treated like an equal here. And in three short days, she felt more like an outsider than she had felt in over a decade.

She kept trying to think of a way to stand up to Remi, but the only other time she had to stand up to a bully was back in high school…and she was a much bigger risk taker back then. Even then, that led to what she did in college, and that was such a close call that she had made a promise to herself – and without words, to her mother, – that she vowed never to break.

As those visceral memories rushed back to Ayala, she noticed her hand had wandered between her thighs, gently applying pressure to the hood of her mound. She quickly snapped her hand back and shook her head, chastising herself quietly.

“No, not that. I’m not doing THAT.” Ayala said to herself, trying to focus her mind on other thoughts.

At least Lily was still her friend, she told herself to get herself back on track. She would come in, as always, gossip, hug, and wait for the “big day” on Friday when the next Sales Lead would be named.

…The same day as that damned potluck.

Ayala decided to just play it cool, not overreact, and celebrate with a nice dinner and an extra glass of wine come Fri-Yay. She was the best candidate, had the most tenure, and best of all, she had a brand-new product that would revolutionize Thompson Cookware for years to come. She would celebrate, and then, as she took power next week, she would deal with Remi.

She nodded to herself, her plan of attack finally made, as Lily walked in for their daily gossip break.

“Um…have you SEEN what Remi is wearing today?” Lily said in a hushed tone.

“Yesterday’s latest fashion?” Ayala quipped, feigning not breaking her attention from her computer.

“You COULD say that, actually. But, it’s uh, not exactly business professional.” Lily said, her voice filled adrenaline.

“Okay, you’ve got me. What is it?” Ayala said, slightly annoyed.

Lily hesitated to speak. She just stood, blankly, before she quickly rushed over and whispered in Ayala’s ear.

Ayala’s doe eyes widened with disbelief, and she shot Lily a look, who could only nod quietly in response.

Ayala stood and rushed out of her office, her stomach turning in knots as she power-walked towards the sound of Remi and the laughter that surrounded her. She could feel her hands shake, and a strange rush of adrenaline as she walked up to Remi while she held court with a gathering of Ayala’s male colleagues. Ayala felt her jaw go slack as she fully took in the sight.

“Oh, leave your mouth like that any longer, Miss Dinner, and I’m going to stuff an apple in it.” Remi quipped. Remi looked over at the men and nodded, and they laughed in response, a primal joy on their faces.

Ayala felt her jaw clench, and her hand turn into a fist, as she tried to process what she was seeing. She just couldn’t find the words.

“It’s Diner.” Ayala declared, standing her ground.

“So you keep insisting, little doe.” Remi breathily said.

Ayala felt frozen and could only watch as Remi took that now familiar saunter over, bursting through her personal bubble once more, and felt all of her emotions from Monday rushed back, including the moistness between her legs.

“WHAT!? If THIS keeps you warm, why shouldn’t it keep me warm?” Remi quipped again, doing a twirl, the men cheering in approval.

Ayala watched in disbelief as Remi’s jacket floated in the wind, clearly made from…the pelt of a Dyani. No, it wasn’t even a jacket, Ayala noted, as it only covered to Remi’s midriff. This poor Dyani doe had been reduced to a fashion accessory, and the only part of her that remained served no functional purpose other than as Remi’s trophy.

“A doe just like me” Ayala allowed herself to think, a rush of arousal coming over her. She slowly focused back into reality as her eyes scanned the pattern of the spots, and noted they seemed so familiar – for a second, Ayala was convinced she knew whoever this once was. But, any scent, and trace of her former identity were long gone, reduced to being Remi’s conversation piece.

Ayala stared blankly, only able to mumble the word “who” as Remi leaned in so close she could taste Ayala’s sweat.

“Just so you know, this wasn’t a hand me down…I harvested her myself.” Remi declared, her lips parting to show her bleached white, toothy grin.

Ayala did not stand for this harassment another second. She rushed to Mr. Thompson’s office, hearing the catcalls of her peers behind her as she crashed through his door. Once she saw the look of shock on his face, the disbelief of her interruption, she realized she’d started on the wrong foot.

“I’m sorry to burst in like this, really.” Ayala said, trying to steady herself, find her confidence.

“No, no, Ayala, please…” Mr. Thompson said, a tone of concern in his voice. “Come in. What’s bothering you so much that you felt you had to barge in like this? You’re not a wild animal, are you?”

Ayala felt herself choke back a tear. Mr. Thompson had never spoken to her like that, ever. She snuck a glance at the portrait of his grandfather, and could swear it was staring directly at her.

“It’s just…” Ayala struggled to find her footing, to deliver the message that was needed before it was too late. “This Remi woman, she’s-”

“Oh, our new Director of PC. What do you think of her?” Mr. Thompson casually interrupted, leaning in, studying Ayala.

“She’s…she’s…” Ayala found herself searching for the right words, but decided to choose any words – she had to get this out – the line in the sand had to be drawn. This was her moment to right the ship before everything went terribly wrong.

“She’s racist against Dyani, She’s dividing up our office, She’s spreading hate, She’s…”

“Whoa, whoa, WHOA.” Mr. Thompson said, putting a hand out. Ayala stepped back, feeling like he was trying to steady her like a horse. “Where do you get off saying things like that, Ayala? It’s not like you. I’m used to you being so much more…docile.” he said.

“DOCILE?!” Ayala said, with a bewildered look in her eyes. How did he see her? Did Remi get to him too, or was he always this way and she just didn’t see it?

“Yes, well, what I meant to say was, well…” Mr. Thompson stammered out, before pausing to find the correct words, as she had seen many times before. But, this time, she saw something different - he shook his head, a “no” to his own thoughts.

“My point is, we hired Remi because people are TIRED of having to clarify themselves when they are simply misunderstood. It’s like Remi has been teaching us –the RIGHT thing to do is treat everyone how they SHOULD be treated.” He said aggressively, a sneer in his eye.

“But, yes, but even saying THAT is condescending to people like me…” Ayala lamented.

“Oh, is it now? Do you expect special treatment because you’re a Dyani?” he rebuffed. “We should treat EVERYONE the right way, the way they SHOULD be treated, period.”

“How is the right way when she’s wearing a Dyani skin jacket to work?!” Ayala fired back.

“Well…I could see how that would bother you…” Mr. Thompson said, nodding, his gaze wandering over to the portraits of his family. He stared quietly at them for a moment, before nodding, and turned back to face Ayala. She noticed the change in him.

“But, she earned that jacket, fair and square. That’s the law. And Miss Diner, the laws in this world are changing.” He said, leaning in, his glance becoming less friendly by the second. “People are tired of having to worry about everyone else’s feelings just to get a point across. That goes for you, this team, and ALL of our customers. We as a company need to decide where we stand and what kind of message we are sending. People want progressive – they want NOW – and what’s *in* now is to not be afraid to express yourself.”

Ayala could not believe what she was hearing

“So if Miss Remi wants to express herself with a fur coat, then that’s PC. You either need to get with the times, or…”

Mr. Thompson paused, and she swore she saw him literally bite his tongue to hold back what he wanted to say versus what he would say. She was relieved for a second there was still some consideration in this world.

“…you can get with the times, or you can get out.” He said coldly.

That last part hit her like a ton of bricks. Earlier this week, she was a shoo-in for the Sales Lead position. Now, she was feeling expendable.

No, somehow, she felt his perception of her was somehow worse.

Ayala slowly backpedaled, her confidence wiped out. She felt weightless, unaware of her own body. She forced a professional smile, and while looking down at the floor, tried to speak calmly.

“I understand, Sir. I will get with the times. I will do better.” Ayala lamented.

“Good. I’m looking forward to seeing you at this potluck Friday. It should clear up any doubt you have on what Remi is here to do and what her intentions really are – to bring this team together under a common purpose.”

4

Ayala did not sleep the next two nights. She tossed and turned in bed, struggling to process the absolute terror of Friday. She felt like a stranger going to a big party where she didn’t know anyone – no, worse yet, she felt like the people she knew didn’t even like her.

She remembered how she felt this time last week – confident, eager to shake hands with each co-worker, accept congratulations, and give a speech on how she would lead the team moving forward. She had thought of an individual accolade to give each co-worker, with special attention being given to Lily – making sure she was seen as an up-and-comer through the ranks - just as she deserved.

Now, she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to stay at this job. She hated it. Moreover, she hated herself for replaying in her mind, over and over, the look on everyone’s faces when Remi said:

“I harvested her myself.”

Ayala felt her hand wander down her stomach, cross her navel, and rub gently on her cunt, a rush going through her body with an inhale. On her exhale, her brain signaled an alarm that forced her to intervene.

“Please don’t do this, Ayala. You’re more than this.” She whispered desperately to herself.

She forced her yearning hand to instead explore the scarred skin of her right oblique, her fingers examining the part of her flesh that never fully healed.

She shook her head, annoyed at herself for the subconscious temptation to break her long-standing vow of celibacy. She reminded herself of her promise to not masturbate to *this* fantasy ever again, and she hadn’t done so in thirteen years. Thirteen years of abstinence, of clear-headed thinking, had not only kept her alive, but had kept her thriving. She was about to be Sales Lead of…

…well, now she wasn’t sure.

Her hand wandered towards her now aching cunt again, but she forced it away, making herself replay exactly why she didn’t allow this.

It was thirteen years ago, nearly to the day, that she went on her second consensual hunt.

Her first had gone too easily – it was both the most exhilarating experience of her life, and left an insatiable desire for more. She was freshly eighteen and a senior in high school when she had just about ENOUGH of a nerdy, overweight bully who had spent years harassing her with how “Dumb-yani’s didn’t belong in school; they belong on a plate.” She decided to show him exactly where he stood on the food chain – by challenging him to a hunt.

She remembered giggling as she watched him at the start line, the barely-a-man who spent more time at a computer screen than he’d ever spent in a forest, fumbling around with his father’s rifle, trying to figure out how to hold it, not to mention run with it. He never caught even a glimpse of her as she pranced around the forest, her natural, enhanced instincts of sight, sound, and scent keeping her fully aware of her surroundings and safety – he never even got close.

She spent the rest of the school year gloating that “he failed to bag the dumb doe.” He was humiliated; she became a bit of a celebrity – her DMs blowing up with opportunities to hunt her, fuck her, or both. It didn’t even seem to matter that she graded B, the extra attention she received was unrelenting – and she loved every second of it. She allowed her natural cravings for this fantasy to go into complete overdrive – her desire for release became all-consuming.

This had always felt natural to her - she’d masturbated to being someone’s dinner the first time she’d ever came. She didn’t find out until her mother sat her down, just after her High School graduation, to tell her that certain Dyani had a very unique affliction. Ayala’s remembered how tightly her mother clutched the locket she wore around her neck as she spoke, an heirloom of her people.

“Our people call it the Curse of Kohonta. The stars have always led our people to where we are meant to be, it’s just, for some, fate points in a very grim direction.” Her mother had said. “The scientists say they’ve identified the gene that causes it, but either way, it is an illness. If you feel yourself ever drawn to being eaten by a human, you must fight it. Promise me you’ll fight.”

Ayala felt an overwhelming sadness in her stomach, the queasiness from raw guilt, when she learned her natural instincts were an affliction. Ayala wondered if her mother had somehow known about Ayala’s first hunt or her fantasies, but she decided in that moment to never disappoint her with the truth. She couldn’t, not now, not ever, as the tears in her eyes were met with the warmest, most accepting smile on her mother’s face.

“You’re going to do something GREAT in this world, I just know it!” Ayala’s mother had said.

And then, her mother began to sing to her. She sang a silly song that Ayala remembered as a child. She only realized now that her mother was trying to tell her something that she was too young to understand.

♪“Don’t-end-up in-a pot-of-soup!”♪

Ayala’s mother didn’t stop singing until Ayala joined in, and they sang together, until they fell over laughing. Soon after, they shared a hug. And lastly, a cry.

Ayala silently committed herself to never signing up for a hunt ever again.

But, she also didn’t stop masturbating to her greatest fantasy, either. But now, every time she came down from climax, she felt a sourness in her stomach, the stinging ping of regret. She felt terrible as she processed the realization that she was cumming to her own death, that in her greatest fantasy, her life would mean nothing more than a hunter’s supper, and soon thereafter, as a trophy for them to display – her remaining existence not hers to be told.

Ayala felt her hand wander again past her navel at she let her thoughts drift to the image of her own head mounted on a wall, a helpless look in her vacant eyes. She then saw a flash of Remi in her mind’s eye just as she let one fingertip slide inside her soaking cunt. She had to use her other hand to forcibly pull herself off, but couldn’t stop herself from having a taste. She rolled her eyes, and convinced herself that it didn’t count against her streak.

Ayala continued to masturbate to this fantasy in college –but now armed with her mother’s warnings - she kept it to herself – her high school reputation long since faded. It was too bad, she’d thought to herself, as she was in her “roasting prime” and would’ve easily graded A – as she now used her downtime to train her body, eat right, and do everything she could to look and feel “extra delicious.”

Ayala did very well in college – she took advanced classes, got exceptional grades, but her interest in education, and any other future other than being served on a plate, began to fade as the years went on. She tired of dating Dyani men and vanilla romance, and longed for the rush of being hunted and being so close to what began to feel like destiny. Her trajectory, and commitments, changed forever when she heard from a classmate about a website where Dyani “role-played” hunts online, with some eventually meeting for the real thing.

Ayala joined that very night, and soon after, she started chatting with “BlueCollar69.” She never thought that *he* would be the one, with such a stupid sounding name, but his struggles to form complete sentences and his clear lack of intelligence made the thought of being snuffed by someone as “simple” as him was even hotter. Best yet, he just so happened to live in the country JUST outside of her college town.

She swore up and down she’d never actually let him hunt her, even after she’d missed three days of classes gooning her brains out to photos of “deer cousins” he’d hung up on a pole, freshly gutted. She’d only chatted with him for less than a week, and she’d completely lost track of her senses. It was like she wasn’t herself anymore, that she was operating purely from lust, on some type of primal auto-pilot. She remembered how mindless she felt when she signed the paperwork, like she had somehow teleported from her dorm room to the starting line, all of the details in between an impossible blur. The only clear memory she had between the now and then was proudly displayed on her ear – a tag with the grade of “A+ - Prime Meat.”

The rush of galloping through the forest was as exhilarating as ever, and she absolutely drank in every second of sexuality that poured through her veins in those first moments. But, something about this run was different. Her senses just couldn’t figure out where he was, and an eerie feeling grew on her fur that he was following her. As hours passed, her instincts began to scream that she was in danger - she lost her sense of direction, began to wander aimlessly, and couldn’t get control of her breathing.

She certainly didn’t have her breath when he shot her.

She’d heard a crack in the wood around noon, and she wasn’t sure to this day if it was intentional to lure her or not. She didn’t take a second to think – her instincts thrust her feet into motion, running at full sprint so hard that the only thing that broke her concentration was the sound of a gunshot that was so loud, it knocked her off her feet. As she lay face down on the forest floor, and looked down to see the blood oozing from her right oblique, she realized that it was not a sound, but a bullet, that had claimed her. The only thing left now was for her to be hung up on his pole, proudly displayed as his first Dyani kill, meal, and trophy.

She rolled over on her back, and lay there for what seemed like an eternity, processing that she would ACTUALLY be someone’s dinner. She thought this would be the hottest moment of her life, but something about it lacked finality. As she stared into the clear noon sky, she could see the stars through the daylight with her enhanced Dyani vision, and made out what appeared to be a constellation of an arrow pointing to the horizon.

She rose to her feet, motivated by the message from her ancestors, and decided to make one final attempt to carve a different fate She was surprised to see she could still run, and even as heard a second gunshot, she began to run faster. A third only motivated her further, and she did not hear another sound that did not belong to her until she crashed down in exhaustion a dozen minutes later.

When she finally caught her breath, she braved a glance down, fearing the worst, and saw she was merely grazed by the bullet, the skin of her right oblique split forever, never to be healed as it was before. It remained to this day a constant reminder of what she almost was and the challenges of the curse of her people – the Kohonta. Yet, she was thankful. Her ancestors had saved her; they had shown her that some other destiny other than this waited far beyond the stars.

She vowed to herself on that hot, muggy summer day to never masturbate again to being eaten. She felt a confidence, a determination swell in her at that moment that helped her Dyani instincts of sound, smell, and sight lock in, and she was able to stay away from the man intent on claiming her for the rest of the hunt. She never spoke to him again – she closed her account without another word. She never masturbated to being dinner ever again – in fact, she’d stopped masturbating entirely – as she’d literally never cum to anything else in her entire life.

She took all of that energy, that drive – and focused it towards the only thing she had left – her career. With this newfound confidence – she did better than she thought possible – she changed majors to business, busted her tail, and spent the next thirteen years climbing the corporate ladder in hopes of being the Sales Lead and face of the hottest new product on the cookware market. This was quite the accomplishment, she’d tell herself, for someone who was traditionally served in the very pots and pans she now helped market.

An image of Remi flashed again in Ayala’s mind. Her bleached white, sharp teeth. The heavy scent of her vintage perfume. Her clear, unrelenting desire to consume Alaya. Strangely, Ayala felt Remi had already begun consuming her, the thirteen years of confidence she’d spent building clearly shaken. She could feel her former self, the hunt starved snuffette, slowly taking over every inch of her being.

She wished she had her mother with her now – wished she could talk to her about she felt, to help with the struggle with the identity that was consuming her. Ayala’s mother had left this world a few years earlier, during a time when Ayala hadn’t visited as often due to her intense focus on her career. Ayala remembered how she felt, comforting her mother in her final hours, when the worst happened.

“It’s time that I passed this on to you.” Ayala’s mother said, taking off her locket for the first time in Ayala’s life. As she slowly handed it to Ayala, it slipped out of her hand, and they both gasped at the spiritual implication. Ayala rushed to pick it up, not being as careful as she’d been for the last five years, and realized too late that her shirt had risen just enough for her mother to see her scar.

Ayala remembered how loudly her mother wailed in that moment. Ayala tried to explain, but even then, couldn’t find the words. Instead, they just lay together in silence, humming Ayala’s mother’s song. An understanding came between them without words that this challenge, this burden, Ayala would now face alone.

Ayala’s mother passed that night, and Ayala’s heart shattered into a million pieces. It took weeks to piece herself together, and even then, she was never completely the same. Still, her confidence remained, and her drive at work was fortified from her lack of emotion.

She decided it was best to seal all of her feelings away, to lock them up in a place that they would never get out. In turn, she never wore her mother’s necklace. Ayala never felt worthy – at least, not yet. She had to prove to herself who she was before she could wear the symbol of destiny of her people.

Ayala had done so well since then, and she had decided to wear the locket on Friday when she gave her acceptance speech. But, she never expected to face someone like Remi. She never dreamed her lust would return. And, she realized, after just a few short days, for the first time in 13 years, Ayala’s confidence was truly broken.

She allowed herself to think about Remi. No, she allowed Remi to control her mind. She saw herself being tracked by Remi through the forest. She saw herself running. She saw herself falling to the ground, wounded. She saw herself struggle to find her feet; she saw herself being pinned down by Remi.

Helpless. No escape. No mercy. Only one outcome left. Soon. Dinner. Miss Dinner. Just as Remi had said.

Ayala let out a moan from her flushed cheeks, and realized she was panting. No, worse yet, she slowly glanced down and realized she’d been masturbating. She wasn’t sure when she started, but that didn’t matter now. She had broken her streak.

No, Remi had broken her streak.

Ayala moaned louder, allowing her self-control to drift away.

“No, Remi has broken me…” Ayala muttered to herself, beginning to rub her clit more decisively.

“Just one…”

Ayala closed her eyes, slowly edging herself to the brink of orgasm. She built up momentum to the moment of climax in her fantasy, the place where she always came, that moment in the forest where her existence transitioned from Dyani to Venison.

Ayala screamed in orgasm at the thought of a cut of her meat being served on Remi’s plate. Her howls echoed through her modest apartment, and she rubbed furiously to get every second of pleasure out of thirteen years of pent up sexual frustration. Her body shook violently, her eyes went blank, and wave after wave of pleasure rushed through her body.

She then felt the regret linger in, worse than ever. She had broken her streak, and masturbated to her own death. She was no longer focused on her career, no longer a confident Dyani soon to be Sales Lead, but on a head on course to be supper for someone whose values completely conflicted with her own.

Ayala shook her head. She hadn’t felt this low in a long time. She took a breath, starrd out the window for a second, and nodded to herself.

“One more won’t hurt.” She said, letting her hand slide down to her soaking cunt once more.

I am torn! I want Ayala to get the chance to be delicious but don't want Remi (Cruella DeVil's granddaughter?) to have the satisfaction!

If I were writing this story, I would have Ayala make a bet with the rest of the office - if they hunt and kill Remi, then she will willingly give herself to them too, but if they fail then they only get her vegetarian substitute! But I am intrigued to see where you go with it!

By the way, is the company called Thompsons because of the Thompsons Gazelle?

Edward - Thanks for reading and your question. I just picked Thompson's after I wanted something that just felt like it fit what I was going for - not too specific, not too vague. Family owned, could be a brand, could be local, etc.

I leave it to the reader to fill in that part of the imagination. :)

On Friday morning, Ayala sat at her desk, alone, and stared vacantly at her screen. She hadn’t spoken to anyone when she came in, simply raising a hand or givig a blank stare at anyone who had said hello as she walked to her office and closed the door. She had spent the morning thinking about ways to turn the narrative against Remi – ways she could control of the frame of doing the “right thing” and shift things back where they were – but had come up with no solutions.

She also realized that she’d come to the potluck with no dish to pass – a consequence of the seven orgasms she had last night before she dozed off to sleep.

“Maybe I’ll offer myself as an entrée.” Ayala joked to herself, realizing that this style of humor was exactly what Remi wanted. She felt herself falling into the idea that being spoken to like this, being treated like this, was normal.

She hated the way this feeling made her sick. She hated even more that it made her feel wet.

“Whatever.” Ayala muttered, letting a hand slide right into her pants and two fingers slide inside her. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, drawing the taste of blood, and allowed herself to imagine tasting her own blood when…

A sudden thud against her door caused Ayala to literally jump out of her seat, her hand flying up so fast that some of her wetness splashed on her desk. With a look of panic on her face, she looked up to see Lily backing into her office, without knocking, of course, straining to carry a heavy Thompson Cookware pot.

“Hi best friend, GUESS what I have!” Lily said gleefully, setting the stockpot down on Ayala’s desk.

Ayala was afraid to ask. She couldn’t afford to lose Lily right now. She’d always thought Lily needed her, but now, she needed Lily more than ever.

Lily didn’t wait for a reply, opening the lid. Ayala looked inside, fearing the worst.

“My WORLD FAMOUS mashed potatoes, of course!” Lily said gleefully. “We gotta have something at this thing that we can eat, right?”

Ayala felt her stomach rumble, and realized she hadn’t eaten the night before. She was happy to have a fellow vegetarian bringing a dish that she could happily eat. Potlucks as a Dyani weren’t always the most comfortable social gatherings.

“SO. What will you be serving, Ayala?” Lily inquired, looking around the room for her dish.

Ayala’s face flushed at a sudden thought of saying “myself” before she brought herself back into the world she’d worked so hard to be a part of.

“Oh, I, um, I was up all night last night, um, I was…worried about the promotion, so I didn’t…SHIT!” Ayala exclaimed.

“What’s wrong with you?” Lily said.

Ayala suddenly remembered about the Dyani-matic prototype – that she hadn’t gotten it back from Lily to show it off to Mr. Thompson as she’d promised in her interview. Her eyes quickly shot to Lily’s dish – but that was standard issue Thompson cookware. She felt a panic in her chest.

“Lily, you DID bring the Dyani-matic, right?” Ayala shuddered as she spoke, looking up eagerly.

“DUH girl, it’s been here. It’s gonna be such a hit! I can’t wait for the big reveal today!”

Ayala exhaled with relief, allowing her body to slump down in her chair once more.

“…it would have been better if we had a dish to pass in it…” Ayala lamented.

“Oh, I got that COVERED! You’ve spent so much time in your office, I haven’t even had a chance to fill you in on a lot of things!” Lily said cheerfully. “It’s like Remi says – the RIGHT thing to do is treat everyone how they SHOULD be treated!” Lily hummed.

“We need to have a talk about Remi, Lily. The thing is…” Ayala began, as she sat up, trying to piece her confidence back together.

“Isn’t she great! She SURE does speak so highly of you!” Lily interrupted.

“She does?” Ayala said, realizing she’d never received any feedback on Remi’s perceptions of her. Maybe she’d just misunderstood her intentions all along.

“Oh yeah, she NEVER stops talking about you, seriously. How cute you are, how crazy it is you’ve made it so far, how much she wants to get some one-on-one time with you…” Lily leaned in. “She even said we’re lucky to have such a TROPHY on display here! Isn’t that sweet?”

“…I’m not sure I like the idea of being a trophy.” Ayala bemoaned.

“Oh, she didn’t mean it like THAT, silly. Are you feeling OK? You haven’t been yourself this week.” Lily inquired.

“…I have a hangover…of sorts…” Ayala moaned.

“Well, you know what will help that?” Lily picked up her pot of mashed potatoes. “It’s like the two of you are MEANT to go together. What do you say?”

“I guess we are going to this potluck one way or another…” Ayala replied. “You’re the best, Lily. I really don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“Girl, you always know I got your back.” Lily raised her hand for their tried and true high five gesture.

Ayala smiled. She raised her hand and swung all her might, really needing to feel something. She nearly fell over onto the floor as Lily pulled her hand back at the last second.

“Your back-STRAP. Ha ha.” Lily quipped. “What, I’m getting in the PC vibe; it’s just a joke!”

Ayala hid her embarrassment, and walked with her head down behind Lily to the potluck.

6

Ayala was relieved to arrive at the potluck and seen no sign of Remi. Deep down, she wished that Remi had been fired and she would never see her again -that this last week had just been a bad dream.

But, she vowed, to take this opportunity to start her promotion to Sales Lead off right.

She remembered the speech she planned to give, and decided instead to speak with every team member at the potluck and give them their positive feedback directly. She didn’t feel like herself during the first two engagements, but by the third, she felt like Ayala Diner, soon to be face of the sales division at Thompson Cookware. Anytime she sensed a strange look or an interaction that felt off, she used her charm, wit, and smile to weave her way right past it. She felt like herself again.

She had just finished making her rounds when she spotted Mr. Thompson watching her. She had an instinct for when someone was monitoring her, natural to Dyani. She could feel the energy in the room, and was happy to be in control again.

Just as she turned around to have her final what-to-do with Mr. Thompson, Remi stepped right in front of her, a large pot she was holding the only thing between them. She hadn’t seen Remi coming and felt all the hair stand up on her body. Her sense of smell was overwhelmed next, as her nostrils were filled with the scent of…meat.

Ayala felt herself go slack jawed again, frozen in fear, of being this close to Remi. There was something about the smell that really set her instincts ablaze. Before she could speak, Remi pinched her on the ear, right where she’d been tagged twice before, and smiled.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t forget your SPECIAL dish.” Remi whispered.

Remi walked over to the center of the banquet table, and set her pot down. Ayala gasped so loudly at that the conversation in the room literally stopped. Ayala could not believe her eyes – Remi had been holding the Dyani-matic the entire time.

“Well, now that WE have everyone’s attention.” Remi announced, making sure to nod that the “we” included Ayala. “Thank you SO much for coming everyone! I do think that sharing a meal is the perfect way for this team to learn - what is it everyone? Say it loud now.”

“DO THE RIGHT THING AND TREAT EVERYONE HOW THEY SHOULD BE TREATED!” everyone in the office said, except Ayala. She never felt more alone, especially as she looked over for support from Lily, who she observed to be gleefully clapping, nodding, and chatting with several younger men she’s didn’t recognize – they must have been “the guys” Lily had mentioned on Monday.

“And in the spirit of family, and community, and everyone here understanding their place at Thompson Cookware, I’ve brought a special recipe passed down for generations….” Remi continued, pausing to build the anticipation. “I present to you…” Remi said with a flourish, as she lifted the lid, steam quickly escaping the Dyani-matic. “Scratch made, freshly harvested, slow cooked, fork tender venison stew!”

Ayala’s ears rang as her thoughts were drowned out with cheering and celebration. She felt glances quickly directed at her, hushed conversations, and laughter, but she just tried to remain still, only the feeling of her heavy breath in her chest keeping her from falling to the floor. She heard a familiar giggle and looked over to see Lily sharing a joke with one of the younger men - the only thing that differentiated him from the others was a nametag that said “Rob.” Ayala watched as she swore he pointed straight at her heart.

“Because, at the end of the day, when it comes to MEAT…” Remi zeroed in on Ayala and let the word “meat” linger in the room. “Who would want to bother with anything but the real thing?” Remi declared.

Ayala felt her dreams snatched at the screams of “that’s right!” and “as God intended!” from the same co-workers she had just shaken hands with moments earlier. She could feel Mr. Thompson’s glare on her, and saw his eyes process the seismic shift in the room. She had spent years developing the Dyani-matic to propel Thompson into the vegan space, and now, it was poised to do the opposite.

“And before anyone gets TOO carried away…” Remi continued. “Miss Dinner, could you come over here please?”

Ayala felt the embarrassment flush on her face as she felt hungry eyes pierced into her from every direction. She felt absolutely alone, and thought that it would be “the wrong thing to do” to correct Remi this time. Instead, she stared, wide eyed, broken, and soaking fucking wet.

“I said - and excuse me, honest mistake, of course…” Remi said, her tongue firmly planted in cheek. “Miss Dine-her, come over here. NOW.” Remi ordered.

Ayala felt her feet begin to walk before her brain could activate. She just didn’t want the attention on her. Not right now. Not like this. But she also couldn’t do nothing – so she decided to play along, and hope for the best.

Remi smiled and put an arm around Ayala, as they now stood together in front of the large pot of soon to be served venison stew.

“I just want to clarify, so no one’s feelings are hurt, that the venison in this dish is NOT Dyani…”

Ayala let out a sigh of relief. But then, even after going through this torturous week, she found herself surprised again to hear a few coworkers audibly groan with disappointment at this announcement. She just couldn’t believe there were people in this room who WANTED to eat her. She felt some of her wetness run down her leg, an orgasm clearly building within her.

“…but this is simply one of Ayala’s cousins I personally hunted last weekend. That being said, I assure you the animal is very fresh to the kill.” Remi said.

Ayala felt those last four words vibrate through her body. She felt herself shudder, letting out a small gasp, as her eyes started to roll in the back of her head. It would just take one touch to send her over the edge.

“Now, who can we fix a plate for first? Let’s go ahead and form a line.” Remi softly commanded.

Ayala simply stood and watched as her coworkers lined up in front of her to be served a dish that could just as easily have been her. She couldn’t believe she’d been reduced like this. She no longer wanted to be sales lead. She craved to be something else, entirely, forever.

“Oh, Ayala, darling, be a good doe and help me fix plates.” Ayala said, with a stern, dismissive stare.

Alaya felt her hand wander towards the ladle, before pulling it back. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. As she looked down into the stew, she swore for a second she saw her own reflection looking back – seeing just her head, as if it were detached from her body.

She had to say something, anything, to break the tension, get out of this situation, and collect herself, before she ended up the next meal served in the Dyani-matic.

“Oh, I brought the mashed potatoes.” Ayala stammered out, the best she could think of to change the subject, looking around for Lily for backup. After scanning the room, she saw Lily was pinned against the wall with Rob’s tongue in her throat. Was she aroused by all this, too?

“REALLY?! How perfect!” Remi said, looking over the table, and finding the pot of Lily’s world famous mashed potatoes. She opened the lid and smiled. “Nothing will go BETTER with the venison. How thoughtful.” Remi said, sliding the pot over next to the pot of stew. She then smiled, and stuck her chest out, readying herself for another announcement.

“Did you hear that, everyone? Alyaa believes venison belongs right next to the mashed potatoes!” Remi practically screamed, and the office broke out in an uproar of excitement.

Ayala decided not to move, or speak, or do anything to make this worse. She quietly noticed that this decision made her resemble a stuffed trophy, and nearly orgasmed at the thought.

Remi took a dollop of mashed potatoes and made a thick bed, before scooping a hearty portion of stew on top. Remi then smiled and handed the plate towards Ayala, while gesturing to look to her left.

Ayala looked and saw Mr. Thompson standing first in line. She looked over at Remi again, and tried to shake her head no. But, the look Remi gave Ayala made her so uncomfortable, was so full of darkness and disdain and hatred for her, that Ayala decided it would be best to do anything but challenge her.

Ayala gulped, took the plate, and quickly put on her most docile look, serving the plate to Mr. Thompson.

“Fork.” was all he said in response.

Ayala scrambled to find a fork, and helplessly watched as he carefully stabbed into the venison, mixed in the mashed potatoes with the venison gravy, gravy very much like her own, and slid it into his mouth.

“Delicious.” He said, staring into Ayala’s doe eyes, a look of a predator flashing in his gaze, returning from a long slumber. “This product really is going to shape the future of Thompson, Ayala. Just not in the way you thought.” Mr Thompson said, before scooping another bite of venison into his mouth, a decision being made in his mind about Ayala’s future. He then looked over at Remi and gave a nod. “Compliments to the chef. You’ve really opened my eyes, Remi.”

Remi gave the softest thank you as Mr. Thompson left the line, another coworker eagerly stepping in his place. Ayala looked up and through her blurry vision could only make out “Rob” on the nametag. She looked around in a panic for Lily, but she was nowhere in sight.

“It’s so nice to meet you. Lily’s told me so much about you.” Rob said.

Ayala realized she must’ve misjudged him. She smiled and extended her hand for a handshake, but he simply stood there, waiting. Remi stepped in and placed a fresh plate of venison stew in Ayala’s empty hand, and just as quickly, Rob picked it up. She watched as he mixed in the flavor of her best friend’s signature dish with the meat of one of her cousins, and took a forkful into his mouth.

“Damn. The only thing that would taste better than this would be, well…” He slowly squinted, his eyes zeroing in on Ayala’s heart once more, which beat wildly through her chest. She became overwhelmed, and felt herself begin to faint. A hand caught her, and she hypnotically turned, any ability for self-preservation lost for the moment.

“Hey, maybe you should sit down.” Lily’s voice said. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Ayala just nodded, and staggered to a a dark corner of the potluck area to sit by herself. She watched coworker after coworker line up, eagerly accept a plate of venison, and take their time enjoying their meal. Every single one of them flashed her a glance as they ate, and she but could tell in their expressions that something had changed.

She would never be their equal again.

Ayala looked down at the floor, and began working on her resignation letter in her mind. She would quit today, quietly, and take a long break before finding a safe, quiet job that just hired Dyani. The world was not what it used to be. There was no one left she could trust.

Ayala felt a familiar presence and saw Lily sit next to her. She noticed that Lily only had mashed potatoes, spinach salad, and a few slices of cucumber on her plate.

“I’m a vegetarian. What about you?” Lily said, lightheartedly.

Me too.” Ayala said, giggling to herself for a second. She had nearly forgotten what joy had felt like.

“But, Lily, how could you give the Dyani-matic to Remi? Don’t you see what she’s done?” Ayala stressed.

“Brought people together? Don’t you see it, Ayala? The Dyani-matic is a huge success, just like you’ve always wanted! Just look around!” Lily jovially said.

Ayala scanned the room. She had never seen the team of the 38th floor of Thompson Cookware share such a moment. Everywhere she looked, she saw joy, satisfaction, pleasure, connection, and togetherness.

“I can’t believe you’re saying this, but, you’re clearly right.” Ayala admitted.

“RIGHT! You said it, girl! It’s because…come on Ayala, say it with me…the RIGHT thing to do is…”

“…treat others the way they SHOULD be treated.” A familiar voice said. Ayala and Lily looked up and saw Remi standing over them, a personal sized Thompson pan in her hands. “Happy potluck day, Ayala. I told you I made you a special dish, didn’t I?” Remi softly teased.

Ayala felt herself start to stand up, to run, but Lily placed a hand on Ayala’s shoulder – warm, comforting, safe. Ayala decided to trust her friend. As Remi removed the foil covering, Ayala’s eyes widened and her mouth watered at the sight of homemade carrot soufflé.

“I told her it was your favorite.” Lily whispered, beaming.

Ayala shot a look of betrayal at Lily.

“What? We are in this together, right Remi? We are here to do the RIGHT thing.” Lily convinced.

“Yes, well said Lily. You’re coming along nicely, I must say.” Remi affirmed, before looking back at Ayala, a hypnotic, controlling look in her eye. “Now, we mustn’t have you get too lean, Miss Dine-Her, otherwise you’ll lose that A grade.” Remi said with a wink. “Eat.” Remi commanded.

“You’ll always be an A grade with me, Ayala!” Lily confirmed.

Ayala didn’t know what to say, or do, in response. Her body was in shock, her brain was fried, her wits were at an end. She decided that trying to keep her senses on an empty stomach was a fool’s errand, and she’d best just eat and then plan her next move.

Ayala took the entire tray of carrot souffle and a fork from Remi. She was nearly overwhelmed by the burst of flavor in the first bite – it was just incredible. She had another, and then another. She lost herself in the perfection of the dish, realizing that Remi was an incredible cook. This, somehow, made Ayala wet again, and her eyes wandered to see the same look of satisfaction on her co-workers faces, and realized that the venison must be just as delicious.

She wondered about the look on their faces if they were having HER for lunch, instead. She allowed herself to lose herself in this fantasy, dreaming of being portioned out and eaten by each and every one of them, any other purpose in her existence long forgotten. She became so lost in lust, just as she was thirteen years ago, that she barely noticed the commotion as Remi stood next to Mr. Thompson, shaking hands. She was giving some type of speech about how she’d continue to shape the culture of Thompson as the new…

…Sales Lead.

She would be Ayala’s direct supervisor now and have even more control over her. No, she wouldn’t, Ayala decided, as this would be her last day at Thompson. She set the now empty pan of souffle down next to her, and took one long, last look around the place she’d called her second home for thirteen years. Just as she went to stand, a familiar shadow came over her, one that had been cast over her destiny for nearly a week.

“Well, well, well. Someone was hungry. I do hope I’ve done my part to fatten you up just a little bit, Miss Dinner.”

“It was delicious.” Ayala said, matter of factly. There was no point in going back and forth with Remi any longer; Ayala wouldn’t be coming back. With that realization, Ayala felt she finally had the upper hand on Remi, for once.

“Yes, well, I’m a bit religious when it comes to food…”Remi said. “It’s the ultimate transfer of power, from one state of existence to the next, and as such, it deserves to be held in the highest regard.” Remi contemplated. “It’s really wonderful how things worked out, isn’t it? Now that I’m your lead, there’s no denying what happens next. I will help you achieve your true purpose in this world...” Remi said

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Ayala said, a tinge of flirtation in her voice, knowing this would be her last interaction with Remi, ever. She would win this “hunt” that had been going on all week without even stepping foot in the forest.

Remi slid her hand on Ayala’s right oblique, releasing a surge of adrenaline and sexuality Ayala had never felt before. Ayala wasn’t sure if Remi KNEW or not, but it didn’t matter. She was white fucking hot, dripping wet, and offered no resistance as Remi pulled her so close that Remi could taste her.

“I will make you into the only thing you and your kind were ever meant to be. The thing you’ve quietly craved your entire life. By the end, YOU will be the one to admit to ME that the only purpose you EVER had in this world was to be MY fucking dinner.” Remi said into Ayala’s ear.

When Remi released Ayala, she crumbled to the floor, panting, her hand quivering as it ached to slide down her pants and deep inside her.

“I thought so. Taste you soon, little doe.” Remi confirmed, a look of disdain flashing on her face as she briskly walked away.

Ayala had never craved an orgasm more than she did in that moment, and she literally sat on her hands to stop herself from further embarrassment. She studied the room, and found that most of her co-workers had left. She didn’t know what time it was, where she was, and worst yet, who she was. She looked around the room for any sense of normalcy, and finally saw Lily, who was sitting in Rob’s lap.

Rob scooped up a forkful of venison stew and lifted it to Lily’s lips, and she shook her head no, her lips clamped closed, her nose scrunched up in disgust. Ayala watched as Rob assertively teased, flirted, and pleaded with Lily, trying to wear down her resistance. Ayala’s heart broke when she saw that familiar “go with the flow” eye-roll from Lily that she’d seen so many times before.

“Just one.” Lily’s lips said.

Ayala’s didn’t hear Lily, being so far away, but she knew what she said, and the symmetry in using the same words Ayala had uttered last night, in a similar moment of resistance, and then surrender, was too fucking hot to ignore. Ayala’s hand slid right into her pants, giving her cunt a gentle rub. All of Ayala’s other senses immediately turned off, and she, with bated breath, she just watched as Rob slid a small bite of venison toward Lily’s mouth. Lily kept her eyes closed tight as her red lips slightly parted, allowing the flesh so similar to her best friend to enter her mouth.

Ayala’s edging intensified as Lily slowly chewed. She watched, and moaned quietly, as Lily’s eyes shot open, impossibly wide, and she looked over at Rob with an expression first full of wonder, then, of satisfaction, and lastly, of a primal hunger. Ayala slipped a finger inside herself; fuck it, she was quitting anyway, and then another, as she watched Lily swallow the meat, take the fork, and make herself a second bite – complete with her famous mashed potatoes.

Ayala’s body convulsed as she quietly orgasmed on the floor, watching as Lily took the plate, her best friend’s look of innocence washed away with a determined look of a predator. Ayala finished her orgasm with a loud exhale of relief, and was able to slide her hand out of her pants just as Lily looked over. Ayala saw Lily’s head turn slightly to the side as she chewed, as if she was seeing Ayala for the first time – or saw her for the first time as something *else*.

Ayala felt the post-orgasm guilt rush over her worse than she’d ever experienced, and decided now was the time to make a discreet exit. She steadied herself, wiped her cum off on her pant leg, and rushed out of the office. She started to cry as she hit the street, but was relieved that her nightmare was finally over.

Back on the 38th floor, Remi stood in a dark corner, finishing her last bite of venison stew, before tossing her plate thoughtlessly in the trash. A bleached white grin flashed on her face as she shook her head, processing what she’d just seen. She licked her lips, and walked over to Mr. Thompson’s office, knocked quietly twice, and let herself in.

“Good afternoon, Sir. I’d like to get RIGHT to work on what changes we SHOULD make.”

So, I can't help being curious about the Dyani and their history. You mention that they came from an island in the Caribbean and were hunted to near-extinction once they were discovered. Their resemblence to deer seems to be the obvious explanation as to why colonisers would jump to wanting to eat them rather than enslave them or anything else but, from the way you write Ayala, there does seem to be some desire or at least willingness to be eaten embedded in their DNA. Could it be that when the peaceful Dyanai first encountered the presumably hungry and tired explorers, one or two of them hospitably offered themselves as food and the explorers got a taste for their meat? Or was it just that they looked as much like deer as people so the human explorers just decided they'd likely be good to eat?

Edward - the idea I was going for is both that the human explorers just decided they'd be likely good to eat, but also, that some Dyani are genetically predisposed to being attracted/turned on by the thought of being eaten. So, the initially eaten Dyani were likely eager volunteers who shared some level of consent, that sparked the rest being quickly captured and placed on the menu, whether they like it or not. Over time, it would make sense the Dyani, in their own native religion, would have an explanation for this "a curse" before more modern advances and education. It's also reasonable to assume that the more docile/eager Dyani were selective bred, keeping the predisposition flowing in their culture.

A question for the reader, and for Ayala, is what the value of the predisposition is. Ayala may have access to higher levels of pleasure and self-realization that other Dyani, but at the risk of her literal life. Abstinence was the choice she made, when others were available, from the most grim (voluntarily hunted and snuffed) to the most balanced. (dealing with it somehow) What the "right" choice is...is meant to be opened ended.

7

Ayala lay in bed in her modest apartment, staring at the ceiling, a vacant expression in her eyes. In one hand, she had a bottle of wine. Her other hand simply rubbed.

Between orgasms, when the guilt set in, she would sit up, grab her laptop, and work on her resignation letter. She could only get so far; her mind melted between the buzz and so many soul shattering orgasms, that she struggled to list…anything. She couldn’t remember her accomplishments, her reasons for leaving, what her purpose was, other than…

Ayala lay back down. She took another sip of wine, and got back to her real work. This time, she edged to being turned into a delicious venison stew.

As she lost what was left of her identity to lust, Ayala’s phone rang. She glanced over, and saw an unfamiliar number through her blurred vision. Chalking it up to spam, she put her phone down, took another sip, and got back to gooning. She rubbed. She ached. She yearned to be dinner. To remove herself entirely from this stressful situation entirely and *be* something else. No, not something else. What she was always meant to be.

Ayala’s phone rang again. She lamented the persistence of robocalls – and considered answering, just for the comfort of having the only “normal” conversation she’d have today. At least the robot wouldn’t try to eat her; it just wanted to sell her an extended warranty on her car.

As the ringing stopped, Ayala sat up again, intent on finishing her resignation letter before she blacked out. She finished one additional sentence before her phone chimed, this time with a direct message. Ayala decided, in homage to her risk-taking younger self, she would answer honestly to whatever came. As she looked over, and focused her vision, she saw it was a text from Lily.

She smiled. But then, she remembered that she’d literally masturbated just hours before to the thought of her sweet, innocent friend eating her. She felt a sting of guilt and shame that she quickly drowned out with wine. Lily was probably lost to Remi’s indoctrination, anyway, Ayala told herself.
Or Rob’s – how could Lily date someone like Rob? Ayala realized that Lily had tried to tell her about Rob, but she's been so preoccupied with her own pending promotion, and then, with Remi, she had been ignoring her best friend. She had always been there for Lily - a bit more gullible than most - and now, not only could she not protect her, she couldn't even protect herself. It was more likely at this point that Rob would seal the deal of getting in Lily’s pants over Ayala’s dead body – serving her on a platter to Lily as a romantic dinner for two.

Ayala decided it would be best to just face the music and take a look. It would just be one more reason to move on. Ayala opened the text and read:

“Hey Bestie! Sorry you didn’t get the Sales Lead gig! But, I think the RIGHT thing is happening as it SHOULD!

PS: Sorry for tasting the venison. I hope it doesn’t change things between us.”

Ayala smiled, and for a moment, felt normal again. She then remembered, in a rush of irrational excitement, that she vowed to respond to whoever was calling, so she grabbed the phone and texted without thinking.

“It’s okay, really. It’s not like it was ME in that pot.” Ayala texted.

Ayala’s face suddenly flushed as she had a devious thought that was instantly impossible to ignore. Her hands shook as she continued:

“I’m sure if it was me, you wouldn’t have had a single bite.”

Ayala let the phone, and bottle of wine, slip from her hands as she quickly brought herself to climax at the thought of the wonder and fascination in Lily’s eyes as she saw her former best friend served on a plate. She screamed in her apartment, a guttural sound that was so loud that a neighbor’s dog began barking. Ayala collapsed down on the bed afterward, exhausted, her laptop crashing to the floor as well.

Ayala took what felt like half an hour to catch her breath. She realized that her guilt got a little quieter with each climax, being replaced with a quiet, calm acceptance.Maybe she’d stick around at Thompson for a while. Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

Just as Ayala began to doze off, her phone rudelywoke her, the ringing piercing through her skull. She didn’t want to talk to anyone right now, and as she went to slide the call to silent, she accidentally swiped up to answer. She quickly rushed the phone to her ear to listen, expecting to hear Lily’s concerned voice about her drunk texts.

“Do you believe in destiny?” A female voice said.

“Who…is this?” Ayala responded, looking through blurred vision at the number she disregarded as spam before.

“Now now, isn’t your calling inevitable by now, Miss Dinner?”

“…Remi…” Ayala whispered, as one hand slid back to her sore, soaking cunt.

“That’s Sales Lead of Thompson Cookware to you, Miss Dinner.

“It’s Diner.” Ayala corrected.

“You still think so? I’m not so sure you do. But correcting YOUR purpose, or rather, your position at Thompson Cookware is exactly why I’m calling.”

Ayala stopped rubbing, coming to her senses for a second. She stood up and allowed her vision to focus. What could Remi mean?

“New position? I know I didn’t get promoted, but I assumed I’d keep my-” Ayala mumbled

“Your former position has been eliminated, Miss Dinner. We have…other plans for you.”

Ayala did not answer, her mind racing toward the one plan Remi clearly had for her.

“Wasn’t it great earlier, by the way, when everyone came together and shared a meal? I think it goes to show that all of US have something in common. And it’s all because of YOU, Miss Dinner.”

“My invention…” Ayala lamented.

“No, not your invention, little doe. It was what’s inside you, the VENISON, that brought people together. And I think…having you there, quiet and on display as everyone ate, well, what SHOULD’VE been you, honestly, if I had followed the recipe…well, it really brought the team together. And that’s what Mr. Thomspon and I talked about in our little impromptu meeting. How we could do the RIGHT thing and…reassign you…to the position you SHOULD’VE been all along.

Ayala let out a moan as she rubbed her sore, aching cunt. She really wanted to have an orgasm to Remi’s voice. It would be so fucked up, and somehow, SO fucking good. Besides, she hadn’t gotten anywhere with a confrontation with this woman so far, so she might as well try going with the flow.

“I take from your silence that we are in agreement. Good.” Remi said. “As for your new position? Well, we couldn’t really come up with a proper name for it. I started with “pet” and then we got to “mascot” but I think we settled on – “Morale Officer.” It has a nice ring to it, which is ironic, as it’s going to come with a special tag around your neck we are going to use to identify you. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

Ayala instantly stopped rubbing,anger rising within her. She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard -an image of being paraded around her office in what sounded like a collar clear in her mind. Dyani had suffered along history of being forced to wear collars to designate inferiority, and the implication she’d wear anything similar struck a nerve.

“I don’t think so, Remi. Sorry. No, I’d rather quit.” Ayala said affirmatively and sat up to reach for her laptop tofinish her resignation letter. She noticed for the first time she’d knocked it over with her last orgasm, and as she picked it up, it was soaked in wine, now completely fried.

“You can’t just quit, Miss Dinner. You’re a contract employee, and you have an obligation to fulfill.” Remi said, with a chuckle in her throat, the arrogance of someone steps ahead.

“Then I’ll break my obligation. Have a good ni-“

“YOU LISTEN TO ME, YOU LITTLE BITCH.”Remiscreamed. “If…you thought it was embarrassing what I did to you before, just imagine what it’s going to be like when I parade you around the office on a fucking leash. You’re on a three year deal with six months left. You signed a no-compete. If you don’t work for us, no, let me rephrase, if you don’t work for ME, and do whatever I say, then you won’t just be out of a job and unemployable. You’ll owe every dollar you’ve earned from Thompson back – with interest.”

Ayala felt a panic rise in her. She reached again for her laptop, which held her only copy of her employment terms, and realized for a second time that she’d just broken it masturbating. What Remi said couldn’t be true; but she had no way to confirm it until Monday.

“So, I think ‘Morale Officer’ is a perfect fit for you. You’ll come with me on my daily rounds, and you’ll see first hand as I bring people together by showing how much better WE are than YOU. Our little potlucks will be a weekly ritual – with venison on the menu, of course, as seeing your kind on a plate is something that truly brings us together.”

Ayala lay motionless in her bed. It was one thing to fantasize and imagine an orgasm to being humiliated, but she’d rather be eatenthan be ridiculed in real life every day for the next six months.

“There is of course, one other way out of this.” Remi said.

Ayala felt her spirits lift. Anything could be better than what she just heard – the thought of having to walk plates of venison to her co-workers every week while they eyed her hungrily and lost any remaining respect for her was a fate worse than, well, death.

“What is it?” Ayala sheepishly inquired.

“Well, if you really want to know, you’ll have to come to my apartment…tonight. It’s better a to discuss this type of thing face to face.” Remi said coldly.

“I’ve been drinking. I really can’t.” Ayala admitted.

“Perfect. I was going to wine and dine you anyway, but instead, I’ll just dine-you, Miss Dine-her.” Remi giggled. “You’re an accomplished Dyani; you deserve a proper last meal.” Remi paused for a moment. “I’ll call you a cab.”

Remi hung up. Ayala quickly looked at her phone, and saw it was just after 6:30pm. There was still time to talk Remi out of this; there just had to be a way. As she rushed to get dressed, the pain in her right oblique suddenly returned, as if her body already knew what the only alternative would be.

Ayala felt like a spider in a web, everything she’d done up to this point had just tightened her binds, with Remi bearing down on her. She needed help, she realized, but didn’t know who to turn to. She had no one on this Earth left she could trust.

Suddenly, she had a realization and rushed over to her closet. She brushed her clothes aside, and opened a door that had remained closed for many years. As she reached inside, and looked down in her hand, the honk from her cab ride outside startled her, the item slipping from her hand and crashing onto the floor.

Ayala looked down at the omen that had again befallen her. She shook her head, trying to understand the message her ancestors were sending her. A second honk broke her concentration, and she quickly bent down to pick up her mother’s pendant from the floor, slid it in her pocket, and rushed out the door without another thought.

As the cab pulled off into the night, Ayala’s phone vibrated, laying hidden underneath a blanket on her bed. It lit up with one notification showing: a textfrom Lily. It read:

“OF COURSE I’d never eat you, you’re my best friend! Unless…that’s somehow what you wanted?”

8

The slam of the cab driver’s door rang through Ayala’s skull, her wine buzz quickly drifting into a hangover. Ayala was suddenly reminded that she wasn’t in her twenties anymore, and she hadn’t been in a situation like this in over a decade. She thought she’d changed, the world had changed, and yet, here she was, standing on the doorstep of destiny.

Every instinct in her body told her to turn back. She didn’t know what she was even doing here, and yet, she knew. There was only one other way out of this.

Ayala cleared her head, and wanted to gaze up to study the stars for guidance. But, first, she allowed just one last daydream of her meat spending hours cooking in a slow heat, her muscles reduced to fork tender venison. She shook as she thought of herself being passed around her office, of being consumed, enjoyed, valued, not for what she had worked so hard to be, but for-

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Remi was immediately in her personal space.

"I’ve been waiting for this moment all week." Remi said with a grin, a hand tracing Ayala's hip, before she just as quickly turned and walked into her home, beckoning Ayala inside.

Ayala walked slowly, cautiously, almost like she expected to be ensnared in a trap at any moment. She found Remi's apartment modest, sparsely decorated, like she had just moved in. No photos of family on the wall, no signs of any other identity than what she had shown at work, just a dark corridor into a kitchen, and a turn to the left where she saw the reflection of the light of a fireplace.
Ayala watched as Remi disappeared into the kitchen, but dared not follow her there. The last thing she needed in her state of mind was to see Remi preparing any venison. She instead took a quick turn to the left, and found a quick seat on a soft couch. She took a minute to collect herself, remembering her fate would be daily humiliation, or worse, if she didn't find her wits and find a way to talk Remi into another option.
As her eyes wandered, she found that this room WAS decorated – with bones hung on the wall, several Dyani pelts, and…three mounted Dyani headsover her fireplace. They stared lifelessly back at her, a look of shock and defeat frozen in their eyes as they all had their jaws left slightly slack as they hung lifelessly on display. Ayala mindlessly walked over, finding what appeared to be a nickname, and a date, engraved on a plaque under each one.

"Nothing more will ever be known about who they were." Ayala said sadly, now staring deeply into the eyes of the fallen Dyani to the far right. Her face looked familiar to Ayala, but she just couldn't place it.

"I can make some space for you if you like, Miss Dinner. Just say the word." Remi smugly said.

Ayala spun around to see Remi standing behind her, wearing a simple hostess apron over her work clothes. Remi forced a smile, while gesturing assertively for Ayala to sit again. As Ayala sat back on the couch, she realized she was sitting on a Dyani-skin throw rug. She tried not to think about it as her fur and the fur of whoever this once was had the exact same shade.

“That’s a good doe. Now, I promised you a last meal. And once I decide on something, I just won’t have it any other way. Remi commanded.

Ayala felt it was best to comply, being surrounded by so many Dyani that Remi had killed.Even though Remi could do nothing to her outside the bounds of a legal and fair hunt, there was something very unsafe about this place. She had to remain in control of her emotions here.

Remi nodded, and brought over a dish, covered by a metal dome.

“Please enjoy; I’ve been working on this recipe for years and the taste testers before you assure me it’s to DIE FOR.” Remi said, lifting the lid.

Ayala looked down at a scratch made, irresistible vegetable pot pie. She couldn’t believe it – if she had to choose a last meal, this would absolutely be it. She would’ve suspected Lily, but vegetable pot pie was nearly every Dyani’s favorite meal, so it was a good choice for Remi to master.

Ayala hated how Remi had used even this against her. Regardless, she decided to pick up a fork and dig in. She savored her first bite, the crust just PERFECT, her wanders to watch Remi ladle a small amount of…soup…out of a cast iron kettle that she had hanging over the fire. As Ayala stared, she saw a bone sticking out of the thick liquid, and watched as a crack formed, the marrow leaking out, and the bone sank into the broth.

“I always have broth before. You understand I’m a person who stands for tradition.” Remi said, sitting down and taking a sip.

Ayala started to see her own reflection again, this time, in the pot of soup, and decided it was time to make her stand.

"I really don't want to take this new role, Remi. Please just…let me go. I won’t come after you, I won’t bother you ever-“

“YOUR KIND has been bothering me my entire life, Miss Dinner. It’s time we settled this the only way that is known to our peoples. It’s that simple.” Remi said, taking a sip.

Ayala swallowed a particularly crunchy bite of pot pie as she processed the declaration she had finally made. She watched as Remi stood up and took down a bow from the wall, and set it on the table between them.

“You just want to hunt me, Remi, I’ve known that since the day we met. But, I won’t even give you even the chance of having the satisfaction of eating-“

“Now WHO would be the one who would gain the satisfaction of me eating you?” Remi interrupted, before leaning closer. “Me. Eating. YOU.”

Ayala felt her face flush and her desire for release return. Her hand slipped down her thigh ever so slightly.

“Oh, PLEASE go ahead. I wouldn’t want to neglect you your…playtime.” Remi said. “You sure seemed to be enjoying yourself earlier.”

Ayala gasped, her jaw slack as she processed that she was the only person, ever, who knew, who REALLY KNEW, about her fantasies.

“Oh, Miss Dinner, PLEASE keep your face JUST like that. That’s EXACTLY the look I want when I MOUNT YOUR FUCKING HEAD.”

Ayala quivered. She felt her desire rise to uncontrollable levels; the need to absolutely enjoy this exact sexual experience, this degradation she’d fantasized about her entire life, was beginning to overwhelm her. As her breathing became labored, she pulled herself back, digging deep into what little guilt she had about enjoying the thought of being cooked, served, eaten, and stuffed – and kept fighting back, before it was too late.

“No…I’m not going to let you eat me, ever. That’s what you’ll never understand about me. I’ll admit that I do I fantasize about it, but, but it’s not who I really am.” Ayala shared, feeling a strange comfort as she’d finally told someone the truth for the first time in her life. She just wished it was someone other than Remi.

“Oh, I’ve heard THIS before.” Remi snapped back, gesturing to her wall of assorted trophies. “Next you’ll tell me you’re just better than me, too.” Remi chuckled, taking a moment to take a sip of her cup of Dyani soup.

“I know what I am. I’m smart, I’m successful, and I’m not going to be your fucking pet for the next six months…” Ayala said, feeling her spirit swell at her declaration. “You’ve already humiliated me enough in front of my friends, and co-workers, and I’d rather die before being put in that situation again, so FUCK you!” Ayala said, happy to ride the high of her emotions.

“I’m glad to hear we’re on the same page about what WILL come next, my helpless little doe.” Remi said.

Ayala felt her gaze wander to the heads mounted on Remi’s wall. Then, she scanned the assorted bones, and lastly, the kettle hovering just over the roaring fire. She gulped loudly, before looking back into Remi’s eyes.

“Do you know why I like broth, Ayala? It’s the closest you can get to the essence of a Dyani. It can only be made when you…reduce…what they were into stock…just their thickest bones boiling away, cracking under the pressure of the heat so the life essence, the soul of a doe, leaks out, enriching a flavor that is impossibly familiar, yet absolutely unique.” Remi said, leaning in, her bleached white teeth showing again.

“I can’t fucking wait to taste YOURS. Then, anything you were before will cease to exist, and you will forever be a part of ME.” Remi declared, a snarl in her throat, as she took in a mouthful of broth.

Ayala could’ve withstood likely any other statement than this. But, there was something particularly overwhelming about being told she’d be made into soup that completely broke her. The Curse of Kohonta took control of her, just as it did thirteen years ago. Ayala’s conscious mind was awake, but felt trapped inside, no longer the one speaking, a prisoner of a lifetime of lust, restraint, guilt, and suffering through any identity besides what she always wanted to be – free in the forest, challenging destiny, and getting off on defeating women like Remi in the proud tradition of her people.

“I AM better than you. You’re a terrible, divisive person who hates my kind just for who we are. There’s nothing about me that isn’t superior.” Ayala said, proudly. “You think you’re going to bag me? You won’t be the first to try, and won’t be the last to fail. So, let’s fucking settle this.” Ayala challenged.

“Let’s.” Remi said, leaning back, observing the blankness in Ayala’s eyes reflecting in the broth between her hands.

“I want out of my contract when I win. On top of that, I want severance pay. I’m taking a long vacation and it’ll be at YOUR fucking expense. I want it in writing, and I want it TONIGHT.” Ayala declared, before a grin broke out on her face. “After all, it’s the RIGHT thing to do. You do that, and we can have our hunt, and settle this fair and square.” Ayala confirmed.

Ayala finished her last bite of pot pie, slamming the empty pie tin on the table. They both watched silently as the tin spun, round and round, like a top, dancing on the edge of the table, before it finally rolled off, crashing to the floor below.

“Perfect.” Remi declared, eyeing that the contents were completely consumed. “How absolutely perfect.” Remi confirmed, as her eyes narrowed on Ayala, taking one final gulp of soup.

Very intriguing! Can't wait to see what happens next! Still hoping for Ayala to be willingly eaten but for Remi to get some kind of comeuppance!

Hope you don't mind my questions? I just love world-building 😁

9

Ayala stood on the starting line, her eyes locked on the trees ahead. She was naked, as was tradition, a cool sweat forming on her otherwise chilled body. She wasn’t a superstitious person, but today, for the first time, she wore her mother’s pendant. She wasn’t sure for luck, for safety, or for the guidance of her people - she was simply convinced she’d need all three.

She shook her head, trying to remember the steps that came before. Just like her previous two hunts, everything between the moment she decided, and this one, was a blur, just jumbled snippets in her mind that played out of order. She closed her eyes, and tried to remember.

She remembered how impersonal she felt the night before. She hated the brightness of the fluorescent lights of the all-white room, the cold tile floor, the sterility of it. It wasn’t a room for a Dyani to be assessed. It was a room for venison to be…graded.

She hated how much she cared in that moment – not about her lust for what was about to happen, not about beating Remi, and not even about saving her own life. No, in this moment, as the two men in white butcher smocks walked around her, studying and writing on clipboards, there was only one thing on her mind, one thing that really mattered.

Ayala really wanted to be graded A again. She realized as she looked over herself, naked in this room she’d been in twice before, hadn’t taken care of herself the way she had in her youth. She had spent the last decade plus measuring herself by her sales figures, her ability to give a great pitch, to be a leader. None of those seemed to matter now; those perceptions of her were rendered useless by Remi in less than a week. So, she tried to suck in her belly fat, stick her butt out, and hide her wrinkles as they squeezed, and poked, and bent her body in all sorts of compromising positions. She NEEDED this affirmation more than ever.

Ayala let out a gasp when she saw the tag clipped to her ear, the large letter “C” a glaring reminder of how years of sitting at a desk had taken a toll on her. She shook her head, processing that she was 36 years old, and her high value years in this on again off again identity as meat were long behind her. Deep down, she really hated that it gave her hope that Remi still wanted to eat her, for whatever her true motivations were.

As she was shuffled out of the waiting room, she passed by a sign that shook her back into the reality of her situation. It was a classic autonomy butcher chart of the various cuts of a Dyani, complete with those drawn on dotted lines. She stopped in place when she saw a sign adjacent, a list of recommendations based on letter grade. The words kept rolling over in her mind.

GRADE C -BEST FOR ROASTS, SOUPS, AND STEWS.

Ayala opened her eyes again, her vision bleached with the early sunlight of morning. It would be any minute now before it was time for her to run - One sound of a gun would signal the battle between this life and the next. She only had to survive 10 hours – if the sun set before she was snuffed, she’d be free to go home, start a new life, and, if she was honest with herself, after realizing how good it felt to tell someone about her true desires – finally go to fucking therapy.

She closed her eyes again. She remembered the quiet ride to the hunting lodge. She second guessed herself over and over, but there was no turning back. She just couldn’t face the humiliation that awaited her at the office. She’d have to wipe the smug look off of Remi’s face, just like she’d done the two before, by outlasting her in the hunt.

Remi didn’t speak to Ayala for most of the hour ride, a welcome change of pace. It was like Remi had nothing to say to Ayala now that everything was in motion, that any connection to Ayala besides manipulation was meaningless to Remi. Even still, Remi’s words as they got into her truck still rang loudly in her head.

“I’ll let you ride in the front this time. But, on the way back…”

Remi gestured behind her. Ayala allowed her gaze to wander to the bed of Remi’s truck, flooded in the moonlight. As they drove under a streetlight, Ayala swore she saw the stain of blood. Ayala remembered Remi’s the three heads mounted on the wall, including the one she was convinced she knew, but still couldn’t place.

She realized all three of them rode back to her home in the back.

Ayala opened her eyes again, the sound of footsteps to her side. She saw Remi, bow in hand, lining up down the pavilion, her lean muscle glowing in the sunlight of morning. Remi didn’t look over at Ayala, it was like Ayala didn’t exist. Something told Ayala that this was what Remi wanted, deep down.

Ayala eyes closed one last time, trying to process one thing that still bothered her. Just as the paperwork was complete, and Ayala was taken back to sleep overnight, Remi did not say taunt her, or tease her, or take one long, last whiff of her scent. She simply said something that Ayala still did not understand.

“Third time’s the charm.” Remi said with a wink, like she knew something that Ayala did not.

Ayala lay on the cot that night expecting not to sleep. Her mind raced, initially, trying to figure out what Remi meant. Was it a reference to this being her third hunt? Was it related to the number three being a spiritual number of fortune to her people? Or, was it something about this hunt that Ayala wouldn’t find out until it was too late?

Ayala was surprised to find that just as quickly as she had closed her eyes, she fell asleep. She found herself restored in the morning by how soundly she had slept, and thought about what it meant. She had kept herself up for a week with the stress of her future – the promotion, the daily humiliation by Remi, her eroding self-worth – but on this night, she found peace in the finality of this moment – this would all soon be over. Either she would be rid of Remi, and this job, and she’d be Ayala Diner, again...or she simply wouldn’t have these problems anymore, as she’d be…

…dinner.

Ayala’s eyes shot open at the undeniable sound of a gun firing. It was time – no, it was past time, and she was still standing while she should be running full speed into the forest. She heard Remi’s familiar laugh, and it was all she needed to break into a full sprint – dashing full speed into what the forest, into what fate had in store for her.

10

Ayala ran as hard as she’d ever run in her life into the forest. She didn’t think about anything else – who she was, what she was about to be. For the first time in thirteen years, she didn’t have a single worry about spreadsheets and cookware and relationships – she was simply FREE. She allowed her animal instincts to take over, and she effortlessly skipped over tree stumps,through brush, and underneath branches, moving with a speed and grace that only a Dyani could.

She was so completely lost in the moment that only her lungs broke her reprieve, as she slowed to lean against the bark of an old tree to catch her breath. She took the moment to look around and enjoy the brisk, quiet, beautiful morning. She smiled.

“I’ve missed this.” Ayala said to herself. She’d been so busy with her career – for the last thirteen years, she hadn’t even allowed herself to stroll in the forest;the risk of breaking her sabbatical from her urges, her fantasies, was too great. Through that, she had forgotten how natural a place like this felt, this native connection to nature that was unique to her people.

Just then, Ayala’s frontal lobe caught up to her, and she remembered why she was here, or, more specifically, what was at stake. She crouched down and scanned the forest closely, allowing her ears, nose, and eyes - her enhanced Dyani senses - dial in on the environment around her.

She felt the confidence she had in her first two hunts rush through her body. She was going to WIN this hunt. She was going to walk into work on Monday, collect her severance pay, and make sure Remi got one long, last look at her before she went on fucking vacation.

“Hell, once I find the right job, I’m going to come back and take Lily along, too. But not Rob. Fuck Rob.” Ayala joked to herself.

Ayala’s proud moment was shaken when her ears perked up – picking up a sound in the distance. She found a small cove underneath a hill to hide, nestling into some brush that matched the color of her fur. She waited, and listened, as the sound got closer, and closer. Her heart began to race, her palms became damp with sweat, her pupils dilated.

“Just my luck.” Ayala lamented to herself. “She just happened to go the right way.”

Ayala took a second to plan her next move, plotting out an escape route if needed. She waited, hoping the sound would veer left or right, but it somehow kept getting closer. She realized that if she waited here and was discovered, she’d be supper for sure. She’d have to make a run for it and hope for the best, hope that Remi wasn’t a great shot – although, she realized, that the various trophies on display in her home would beg to differ.

Ayala took off as she heard the crunch of a twig that was just too close for comfort, as instinct led the charge of self-preservation as she dashed through the woods. She expected to hear the flight of an arrow or the pain of impact, as out of the corner of her eye, she saw Remi, standing, bow in hand, but strangely not drawn. Instead of the wisp of an arrow or the thunk of penetration, she heard something else – laughter - echoing through the forest as Ayala rushed out of sight.

Ayala ran and ran, until she doubled over in pain, her lungs feeling so heavy that she thought she’d cough up blood from the strain. But she was relieved when none came, and the familiar sounds of the forest flooded her ears once again. She shook her head, and looked up at the position of the sun – it was less than an hour into this hunt, and she had already nearly been snuffed.

Ayala felt her hand wander down her stomach, past her navel. She felt her eyes roll back into her head and she bit down on her lip, hard. That close call had made her impossibly horny – the sensation, the need for release hitting her all in a moment. One second, animal instinct carried her to safety. The next, she was drowning in insatiable lust.

She couldn’t deny to herself how this experience made her feel. She felt, somehow, alive for the first time in over a decade – valued, a prize worthy of being hung up. She had fantasized about this exact moment SO many times in her life. She let her hand slide further down and begin teasing her clit.

With an exhale, a snort of frustration, she pulled her hand back.

“This is my fantasy, but not my fate. I’m better than this.” Ayala convinced herself as she clutched her mother’s locket, in the same way she’d seen her mother do so many times before.

Ayala took extra care as she began to trot through the woods. This time, she zigzagged her path. She left footprints that led in the wrong direction. She broke branches and left a little fur in places that would lead Remi off her trail. There would be nothing more left to chance – no way to follow her – she would not be caught this time.

Ayala found a tree to rest underneath, and waited. She remembered her first hunt, how she was never seen by her bully. She remembered her second, where she had just one close call. This time would be no different, she thought to herself. She had already won. She could relax, rest, and enjoy the quiet until the sun set on this chapter of her life.

Her hand wandered south again, her cunt eager to be brought to orgasm in this place, just once, but she pulled it back.

“There will be time for that later.” She said to herself. “I’m going to masturbate myself to fucking death when I get home, Promise.”

Ayala waited for what felt like an hour, as she at least expected to hear Remi approach, but go the wrong way. She kept her senses finely tuned on the path she’d laid out for Remi to follow, honed in on that direction, ready to adjust as needed. But, she heard nothing, which wasn’t a bad thing. It just meant that Remi wasn’t as good a hunter as she thought. Ayala allowed herself to dream of the hot sauna she’d soak in when this was all over, while Remi would be left hungry, dreaming of Ayala soaking in her pot. She wouldn’t end up one of the heads on her wall, after all.

Ayala’s spots scrunched together on her forehead, as she thought deeply again, remembering the familiar face on the far right of Remi’s wall. She KNEW her from somewhere, but where? She took the respite to concentrate – and after a spell, a name finally appeared in her head – Raleigh.

She met Raleigh at a Young Dyani’s Conference six months ago. She worked in logistics at a mostly humans shipping company. She was confident, witty, and was quickly rising up the ranks of her company, just like Ayala. They had agreed to stay in contact, but she stopped responding months ago. Ayala assumed she had just moved on, found a better job somewhere else, and they’d connect again, someday.

“Poor Raleigh.” Ayala sighed with an exhale.

Just as she inhaled back in, her nose caught a familiar scent. She couldn’t believe it – not only was it Remi, but she was impossibly close. Ayala slowly turned her head, and with every small rotation of her neck, the scent became exponentially stronger. Just as she finished turning, she saw Remi, standing in the open, bow in hand, arrow in the other. She swore she could see her teeth shining through a sinister grin on her face.

Ayala didn’t waste another second; she hopped to her feet and she was in motion before her head even snapped around. She expected the worst, for sure. Remi had gotten the drop on her, and it was all but over. She might have that reunion with Raleigh after all, if there was any of her left, as they both digested in Remi’s stomach.

“This is it…” Ayala said, closing her eyes, readying herself for the worst as she ran.

Still, eyes closed, body tense, her strong legs carried her. She did not hear the whoosh of an arrow or the string of a bow, but this time, just Remi’s voice, yelling, from behind her.

“That’s TWO!” Remi shouted, her voice echoing through the trees, birds fleeing from their perches at her boast.

Ayala ran so hard this time that when her body did finally quit, she crashed down on the forest floor with a thud, the fallen leaves flying in the air in place. As she rolled over on her back, gasping for air, like a fish pulled out of the water and soon to be slit open, she tried to process how this could be happening. She had hidden, she had covered her tracks, she had thrown her off her trail. How could she be so unlucky? Or rather, how could Remi be so fucking good at this?

"I just don't understand; this shouldn't be possible." Ayala said to herself. She really couldn't process it. Dyani were rarely snuffed in a hunt like this, and yet, Remi had the drop on her twice.

"Third time’s the charm." Remi’s words replayed in Ayala’s soon to be mounted head.

"She's just toying with me...I'm...I'm going to be eaten by her..." Ayala muttered to herself, her body language slumping, tears forming in her eyes. She was desperate for any sign, any hope, anyway out of this. She looked up at the sky, desperate to see the stars, some signal from her people of the path ahead for her. But, this time, a front of dark clouds moving in had obscured her sight, a harbinger of what was to come.

"I'm going to be her…dinner…” Ayala whispered.

Ayala felt her hand slide down her thigh once more, the need for release undeniable.

"...fuck it. I might as well have one."

Ayala slipped two fingers inside her soaked, aching cunt, with the other hand providing perfect pressure as it executed a perfect circular motion on her clit. She worked feverishly to bring herself to climax. The last thing she wanted was be snuffed before she finished; she had dreamt of this exact moment, of this perfect fucking release for so long.

She saw in her mind's eye her meat being served around to her co-workers at the next potluck. She saw them laugh and disregard who she was, remarking that this was the only thing she ever did that mattered. She envisioned her head, with a lifeless, blank stare, mounted on the wall, forever frozen in defeat. She no longer just fantasized about this, or craved it, she fucking required it.

As she erupted with orgasm, she let out a scream that echoed through the wood as waves of pleasure rushed over. She knew she exposed herself, but didn't care. She had to have this moment, and she gave herself every last second of pure, primal pleasure that she could milk out of herself, leaving herself completely exhausted. For the first time, the ping of regret did not overtake her body. Just a cool, quiet acceptance.

As Ayala slowly came down from her orgasm, and the reality of her situation crept in, she heard the sharp sound of a string going taut. Her legs quaked as she slowly stood up, planning to run, but she found herself frozen in place. A vacant, classic "deer in headlights" look flashed on her post orgasmic face as she stared forward and her eyes found Remi just fifteen feet in front of her, bow drawn, arrow ready.

Ayala didn't process another thought before she felt all the wind knocked out of her. She hunched over, her vision blurred, as she tried to focus her gaze on the arrow now lodged firmly in her lung. She went to reach for it, pulled for a second in vain, before crumpling over in defeat, landing face down, ass up.

Ayala felt the taste of blood in her mouth as Remi's boot pressed on her shoulder and ungracefully threw Ayala on her back. Ayala stared into the morning sky, the pain not truly set in yet over the shock, and she noticed the clouds completely obscured the sky, her view considerably darker, a shade cast over her life. Remi smiled, the whiteness of her teeth now the only remaining light in Ayala's future.

"I hope it was good for you, bitch. I let you have it to prove a point. That this is all that you were ever meant for." Remi said coldly.

Ayala responded by coughing up blood, the pain, and reality of her situation, setting in. Her mind began to race, her eyes became wide, and she stumbled to her hands and knees to crawl away. Ayala made it twelve paces before she slumped over on her belly in pain, landing on the arrow and screaming out as she inadvertently jabbed it further inside her. She rushed to lie on her side, quivering, broken, considering surrender.

“This doesn’t make any sense…” Ayala muttered, between heaving breaths that spat up blood. “How could you find me so easily?”

Remi chuckled to herself as she walked over, kneeling down in Ayala's field of vision. "Haven’t you figured it out by now? I’d never leave your destiny to chance." Remi flashed her Smartphone, with an app that looked distinctly like a map. Ayala focused her gaze to realize it was a topographical map of the forest, with a flashing red dot in their exact location.

No, Ayala’s exact location.

"But...that's illegal!" Ayala shouted, before coughing out more blood. “You can’t do THAT! It’s against the law! The hunt has to be fair! You’re going to fucking prison!” Ayala declared, the fury in her voice only tempered by how difficult it was to speak.

"Oh, my little doe. I was hoping it could be OUR little secret. Can you keep a secret for me?" Remi teased, licking her lips.

"...fuck you." Ayala muttered, a look of pain and frustration on her face. Ayala knew the truth now - she'd been cheated. Somehow, Remi had gotten a tracker on her, no, somehow got one inside her, and she never had a chance in this hunt.

"It's okay, really. I've got a feeling you won't be telling ANYONE where you're going. Do you know where you're going next, Miss Dinner?"

"It's Diner." Ayala muttered.

Remi's teasing expression turned to a scowl, a look of disgust forming on her face. She grabbed at the arrow piercing Ayala's lung and gave it a tug. Ayala screamed out, the pain more intense than she could've ever imagined, her eyes wide as saucers as she tried to remain still, lest make the pain any worse.

"No, you're not Miss Diner. You're not anything, anymore, and ever again. You're going in my fucking stomach, right where you fucking belong. You're going to be served next to the mashed potatoes just like your kind has been served for hundreds of years, because that's all you're fucking good for." Remi snarled.

Remi pushed the arrow this time, the blade cutting deeper into Ayala’s body, causing blood to shoot from her side like a squirt gun. Ayala could only scream in agony, her eyes slammed shut, her hope shifting to the realization that this, all of this, would be over, very soon.

"I really don't understand how WE ever let something like YOU ever live among us. But don't worry, I've made it my personal mission to hunt down "accomplished" little does like you and put you in your proper place. You thought you were going to be Sales Lead of Thompson Cookware, but really, you were born to be served in it."

Remi rolled Ayala on her stomach and dropped all her weight on Ayala’s back, crushing the arrow into Ayala's lung. Ayala's head and torso shot up in response, desperate to create some space, and on cue, Remi grabbed Ayala by the chin, pulled her head back, and exposed her neck.

"Now...as much as I'd LOVE to spend all day playing with you, I have an interview to be Head of PC at another corporation next week that I need to study for. So, I'll make you a deal - admit what you are, and I'll end your suffering.”

Ayala could only watch as Remi ripped her mother’s locket from around her neck and threw it carelessly on the ground. She wailed in pain – worse than the pain from the arrow – but from a place deep in her heart, when Remi took an adjacent rock and smashed the locket into hundreds of pieces. Tears ran down her face as she realized that there was no escape from this – that she too was shattered. Remi had won.

"You know what I want to hear. WHAT IS YOUR NAME?" Remi shouted, pulling Ayala's head back further, Ayala feeling her neck may snap any minute from the pressure. Remi flashed the blade of her hunting knife in front of Ayala's eyes, allowing Ayala to see her reflection as conquered prey.

Ayala closed her eyes for the last time on who she once was.

"I'm...Miss Dinner…" Ayala admitted, surrendering control of her identity to Remi.

"Perfect. How FUCKING perfect." Ayala boasted, a maniacal laugh coming over her. Remi’s expression soon turned from jovial to a look of absolute certainty.

Ayala felt the blade jab forcefully on the right side of her neck, being held in place at first, keeping her blood from splashing out.

"Oh, GOD, it's ACTUALLY happening. I'm going to be eaten!" Ayala’s thoughts scream, the last cognizant thought she ever had as her entire body quaked from the sensation of feeling steel in her windpipe.

Remi took her time jaggedly cutting across Ayala’s throat. Ayala’s blood splashed out like a fountain. Her eyes began to glaze over, her jaw locked in that helpless, defeated stare that she’d seen on some many Dyani trophies.

Ayala had fantasized about this exact moment so many times, as she’d imagined to be the hottest sexual experience of her life. But, here, alone, in the forest, she felt no arousal at all. Instead, in her final seconds, she saw her life flash before her eyes. She saw her mother, she heard her mother's song. She felt a sadness, realizing that despite her mother’s warnings, that she would end up...

…and then everything for Ayala went black.

That following Monday, Lily walked into her best friend’s office, without knocking, as she always had, but found it empty. It wasn’t like Ayala to not answer Lily’s texts, especially for an entire weekend. Lily had a sinking feeling in her stomach, and quietly cried at her office as she feared the worst – Ayala’s final text still ringing in her mind.

Lily joined her co-workers of the 38th floor as the workday concluded, setting her world famous mashed potatoes on the banquet table as Remi had requested. It was very different to have a meeting at the end of a workday, but Remi had approached Thompson very differently from the moment she had arrived. As they waited, conversation turned to the sudden absence of Ayala. Some speculated she simply quit over not becoming Sales Lead. Some gossiped that she was forced out. There was even a joke or two that Remi had eaten her, with laughter being shared amongst her former peers regarding how good she must’ve tasted.

Just as before, Remi entered the party last. She beamed as she carried the Dyani-matic pot in her hands, setting it in the center of the banquet table. The flavor from the pot immediately attracted everyone's attention. It had the same delicious aroma as last week, and somehow, it was instinctively familiar.

Remi took a moment to make eye contact with each individual in the room, nodding to Mr. Thompson last, before speaking.

“Thank you so much for staying until the end of a workday – especially a Monday – to participate in this very special event I’ve planned. It really, really means a lot to see how much this group has bonded forever under a common identity. But, as I always say, and can we say it together, everyone?” Remi raised her hands.

“THE RIGHT THING TO DO IS TO TREAT EVERYONE HOW THEY SHOULD BE TREATED!” The staff of the 38th floor of Thompson Cookware said proudly together.

“Perfect! With that in mind, as my first act as Sales Lead, I spent the weekend preparing a VERY special recipe, one that has generations of tradition in my family. Last week, I had to make it with a small alteration, but tonight, I’m able to share it with you all EXACTLY as it was passed down to me.

A hush came over the room at the implication.

"So, without further ado, I present to you...FRESHLY harvested, office to table, your very own - Ayala Venison Stew!"

Remi lifted the lid with a flash to reveal a steaming pot of Ayala stew, her meat still simmering, her muscle breaking down into fork tender flesh.

There was a hush that came over the employees of Thompson Cookware - disbelief. This repose was broken by a gasp, as Remi revealed Ayala's stuffed, lifeless head, displayed on a plaque, and mounted it above the pot of stew.

It was one thing for the assembled masses to joke, tease, and even envision eating Ayala. It was another to see her helpless, defeated gaze staring back from the plaque that simply read "Miss Dinner, Nov 2025." Some of them had worked with her for years. Many considered her a friend, at least, before they met Remi.

Just as before, Mr. Thompson approached first, but this time, he walked over with reluctance. He stared into Ayala’s blank eyes, shook his head, and sighed. In a lot of ways, Ayala was like a daughter to him. His expression told a story of disappointment than anything else.

He looked down to see Remi had fixed him a plate, just as before, with a mashed potato base, and a hearty portion of Ayala stew served on top.

“Try a bite.” Remi flirted, offering him the plate.

Mr. Thompson pondered for a few seconds, before he shrugged and scooped a bite of Ayala’s tender flesh into her mouth. His eyes widened and he nodded with carnal pleasure as he savored her flavor. He nearly took a second bite before stopping to speak.

This is the best meat I’ve EVER had, the depth of the flavor is incredible!” Mr. Thompson remarked. “But how did you do it? She was so much older?” he questioned.

“It’s this special pot. There’s something about it that really brings out the flavor in Dyani. I think it’s because she wasted so much time trying to perfect it for the vegetables that she enjoyed, that the only ingredient that meshed with it perfectly, was, well, herself.” Remi joked, flashing a smile.

“Well said. You’re right. This is really just-“

“…Perfect, Mr. Thompson. Just perfect. And if you ask me – THIS is the future of your company, not going vegan, or woke, but back to your roots. It’s marketing THIS product, to the next generation of Dyani hunters – and what better way to convince people that the RIGHT thing to do is to eat Dyani than share this very pot was invented by a Dyani who was cooked and served in it?” Ayala pitched.

Mr. Thompson heard cheering behind him, and felt the pulse of the moment. The path of his company was now set, ironically, with Ayala as the face of it – just not in the way she expected. He walked over to stare into her eyes one final time, before looking over at Remi, noticing a line had formed – Ayala’s fate had been accepted by the workers of Thompson Cookware and they were ready to have their serving of tonight’s dinner.

“You know, for a while, I think I forgot who I am.” Mr. Thompson pondered. “Where I’ve come from. Thank you. You’ve done us all a service, really.” Mr. Thompson affirmed, finishing his plate and giving his blessing for plates of Ayala stew to be passed around.

“You know what…”Remi said, grabbing at Mr. Thompson’s arm softly. “Why don’t you keep her? She was so special to you, and having her head mounted in your office will be a constant reminder of how Dyani SHOULD be treated…” Remi suggested, a soft smile behind her teeth.

“Are you sure?” Mr. Thompson said, his hands already reaching to claim their prize.

“Oh, of course. Besides…”Remi said, before leaning in to whisper. “I much prefer the leg and hip bones, myself. They make better soup.” Remi teased , her tongue jutting out between her teeth.

Remi and Mr. Thompson shared a laugh, before he took Ayala’s head, and a second helping of her meat, to his office.

Over the next half an hour, every worker on the 38th floor of Thompson Cookware had a helping, or two, of Ayala’s meat. They all complimented her flavor, and brainstormed ways to best market their new pot. They would rebrand their image entirely with a campaign to normalize the idea that Dyani were meant to be eaten. Remi’s transition of the culture of this office was nearly complete.

There was just one person left who felt differently. Lily slowly walked over, tears in her eyes, looking down at what was left of her best friend, cooking in the pot she helped invent.

"She was my best friend..." Lily said, before bursting into tears. “I…just can’t believe this…”

The camaraderie of the 38th floor was challenged for a moment. Rob walked over from behind Lily and gave her a hug, his teeth chewing loudly through a thick portion of Ayala’s flesh, a smug smile on his face.

“Don’t be sad, babe. She signed up for this. The dumb doe probably wanted to be eaten.” Rob said flatly.

“I just can’t believe that. I KNEW HER. She would never…” Lily whimpered.

"Rob is right..." Remi interjected. "I have something she wanted you to see."

Remi pulled out her phone, turned the volume all the way up, scrolled to a saved video, and handed Lily her phone. Lily stood transfixed as she watched Alaya feverishly masturbate in the forest, complete with her screaming out in ecstasy as she came. The video ended just as Ayala caught her breath, and Remi reached for her bow.

"She...wanted this?!" Lily whispered, shocked, processing what she had just witnessed. She felt Remi’s phone lift from her hand by Rob, who took a turn to watch it himself.

"Thank you for making your mashed potatoes again, Lily, really. It means so much to Ayala to be served on top of them." Remi said, as she made a bed of mashed potatoes, and then scooped a hearty portion of Ayala stew that she carefully laid on top.

"This is where Dyani like her belong. On a plate." Remi said, before putting on her warmest smile, and handing the plate to Lily.

Lily stared down at her plate and felt her mouth begin to water. She felt her hand tremble as she slowly lifted the fork into her hand and began to scoop up a bite. She was startled, momentarily, by the commotion behind her as the video of Ayala's last orgasm was passed around the office –she heard laughter, cheering, and some ridicule about how pathetic Ayala really was.

"Go on." Remi assured.

“I think her feeling would be hurt if you didn’t eat her, babe. Besides, I’m your best friend now, right?” Rob convinced.

"Well...she WAS just a Dyani, after all." Lily concluded, taking a forkful of Ayala's flesh, mixed perfectly with her signature potatoes, into her mouth. Lily's eyes widened as a rush of flavor soaked her tongue, her gaze looking back at Remi, who shared a nod.

"She's…absolutely delicious. I had no idea." Lily remarked, before quickly fixing herself a second bite.

As she did, she quickly wiped her tears from her face, letting the moisture flick from her hand and left discarded on the ground. Lily took one last look at the pot of Ayala stew, her expression of compassion changed to indifference, then acceptance, and finally, a curious satisfaction.

"Thank you, Remi. You've really open my eyes on what the RIGHT thing to do is. Ayala really got what she SHOULD’VE fucking Doe-served all along.” Lily joked, a bitterness flashing in her eyes. “It has a sort of ring to it, doesn’t it Remi?” Lily wondered.

"Oh, Lily. You’re right. All of you are SO right." Remi said, happily, as she looked around the office, her work complete.

Two weeks later, Remi was gone from Thompson Cookware, claiming she had been offered a “dream assignment” she just couldn’t refuse. The staff of Thompson Cookware tried not to forget her, but they realized the only thing they knew about her was the impact she made on them and the culture of the company. Her only parting gift was an offer of Ayala's heart - which Rob eagerly accepted on behalf of Lily and prepared as a romantic dinner for two.

Ayala’s head provided a firm reminder of the legacy Remi had left – as it was now mounted in Mr. Thompson’s office. Ayala’s helpless, vacant eyes now had a permanent view of the portraits of his father and grandfather, as she was displayed directly across from them, a juxtaposition of the ongoing history of predators and prey.

Lily was surprisingly promoted to become the new Sales Lead in the wake of Remi’s departure, as she was able to make a pitch that no one else could – she helped invent their now signature product. As she traveled from business to business, Lily found a knack for embellishment to close her sales – her soft, innocent face hardening from the deceit she practiced daily. She told her “true story” of how her “so called best friend” secretly only wanted one purpose in life – being served as dinner. Lily enthralled audiences as she told them that she “discovered Ayala’s secret all on her own” and only helped “that stupid Dyani” perfect the pot so one day she could cook her in it – and one fateful day, she did exactly that.

Just as Ayala had dreamed, she was now the face of Thompson Cookware – as each box of their new signature product had a cartoonish rendering of her face, complete with her now signature vacant stare on every box. Underneath it, a caption read “Developed by one of their own!” with a warning: “Caution: Dyani meat is delicious and should be enjoyed often!”

Finally, at the top, a new name for the “Dyani-matic” was listed, as the original name was scrapped by Lily, as she’d come up with one she felt was “more fitting.” Instead, in bold letters, at the front of the box, it read:

“MISS DINNER'S DOE-SERVED IT POT"

I definitely enjoyed that but don't like that Remi "won". Maybe Lily could find evidence of her cheating (perhaps she asks to watch the video of Ayala again but then spots the tracking app) and Remi is given the choice to turn herself in or be hunted herself to prove that the Dyanai-Matic can be used to make a delicious stew from any meat? Of course she would choose the hunt, thinking she would survive it easily, but underestimated how popular Ayala was around the office and, as skilled a hunter as she is, she still doesn't have Dyani instincts and agility.

Charlotte from Bojack Horseman is how I picture Ayala and her kind. Am I close or did you have a different vision in mind? 😊