“Perfect!” Melanie stepped forward, taking charge once again. “Now, let’s get you into your costume and see what you think!”

“Come on, lad!” Paul smiled at Nep in a reassuring way. “Let’s get you dressed.” Nep followed the friendly man to the curtained changing area where he pulled back the curtain to reveal the costume hanging on a peg. It was a toga similar in over-all style to Rowan’s, white with a gold trim, but made from a far more substantial fabric. Lion’s-head clasps were on both the shoulders and, waiting for him on the bench, Nep noticed a pair of gold sandals very like the ones Rowan was wearing and a selection of gold jewellery. Also hooked around the same hanger as the toga was a belt made from what looked like woven leather strands painted gold.

“I’ve got the wig and beard over here,” Karen explained, “for once you’re in the costume.” Nep nodded his understanding.

“I’ll be just out here if you need anything.” Paul explained. “But it should all be pretty self-explanatory. Just pop your regular things off and put these on. You’ll have total privacy unless you need assistance.” Nep stepped into the cubicle but, just as Paul was about to pull the curtain across, stopped him.

“Should I…” he asked a little nervously before swallowing and rephrasing the question. “Do I keep my underpants on or take those off?”

“That’s really up to you.” Paul answered with a warm chuckle. “For today it doesn’t really matter but you’ll probably want them off for the party, if you catch my drift!” Nep’s eyes went a little wide and his cheeks turned pink but he nodded quietly and stepped back from the curtain so that it could be closed.

Quickly, he pulled off his T-shirt then sat down on the bench and pulled off his shoes and socks, not bothering to unlace them as they were not laced especially tightly in the first place. The carpet felt soft and warm under his feet, the most luxurious he could ever remember standing on, and he almost regretted the need to put on the sandals but he was really keen to look the part on the day and recognised the need to make sure everything fit properly.

“Can I get a hand with these?” he called to Paul on the other side of the curtain, finding the sandal straps anything but intuitive. Discretely, so as not to expose whatever state of undress he might be in to the women in the room, Paul slipped around the curtain and knelt down to show him how to strap the first one, suggesting that he do the second one himself as practice but promising to stay to assist if needed. Having seen it done once, Nep managed to strap the second one around with leg with not too much trouble and thanked Paul for his help. Once alone again, he pulled down his shorts, deciding to leave his underpants on for the time being although unable to keep the assistant’s rather cryptic advice from his mind.

Carefully, not sure how delicate it might be and not wanting to disgrace himself at this early stage by tearing the costume through his own clumsiness, Nep took the toga off the hanger and slipped it on over his head, assuming correctly that it should be put on like a long T-shirt, unlike Rowan’s which seemed to be more like a long scarf wrapped artfully around her body. The belt was self-explanatory enough and he buckled it tightly around his waist. Pulling back the curtain a little, he asked for Paul’s assistance with the jewellery which was duly given then he stepped back out into the room.

“What do you think?” he asked, holding his arms out by his side and turning slowly in a circle to show off the costume which hung well on his slim frame, resting just above his knees, and did not look too comical as he had feared.

“Pretty dapper!” Karen grinned while the two younger women nodded. “But you need hair and beard done to get the full effect!” She pulled a large, comfy-looking leather chair like a gaming chair or a chair in a hairdressing salon back from the counter which held all her equipment and the wig and beard set on a polystyrene head, in front of a mirror surrounded by bright light-bulbs just like Nep had seen in dressing-rooms on TV. “Come take a seat!” she smiled. Nep did as he was asked, his eyes lingering on Rowan for a little too long to go unnoticed as he passed. He could feel a swelling inside his underpants and was rather pleased that he had kept them on, protecting his modesty at least a little bit. “Now, just to be serious for a moment,” Karen got down to business, standing behind him and framing his head in the mirror once she had adjusted the chair to an appropriate height, “have you ever used spirit gum before? For a school play or anything?”

“Yeah.” Nep nodded. “Last year I was playing a made scientist and had these crazy, wild eyebrows stuck on.”

“Good.” Karen nodded. “And I assume you didn’t have any sort of allergic reaction?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Nep replied thoughtfully. “Not that I remember, anyway.”

“That’s okay then.” Karen smiled, then proceeded to show him the three different pieces she would be applying, how they went on and how they connected to each other. “We’ll do a bit of makeup for you too.” she explained. “I’ll do what I have in mind but if you don’t like it, you must say and we can try something else.”

“I’m sure it will be fine.” Nep smiled politely, happily putting himself in the hands of the experts. Explaining what she was doing with each stage, Karen fitted the huge, off-white beard to Nep’s chin, with hooks over his ears, and some spirit gum to ensure that it moved with his jaw, then the separate moustache which she glued to his upper lip then finally the wig.

“What do you think?” Karen asked as she carefully tucked a few loose strands of the boy’s dark hair under the rim of the wig.

“I look kinda goofy.” Nep observed with a hint of sadness, disappointed that what he was seeing in the mirror did not match his mental picture of what he had imagined being turned into a god would look like.

“Ah but that’s because we’re not finished yet!” Karen assured him kindly. “I’ll tell you what, why don’t you close your eyes while I do your makeup, then the big reveal will be a surprise?” Thinking this sounded like a good idea, Nep did as she suggested, feeling her brushes of various sizes on his cheeks and eyelids, across his eyebrows on and on various other parts of his face. “Okay!” Karen declared after no more than ten minutes. “Open your eyes and meet Zeus!” Nep did as she said. This was a different experience entirely! Looking back at him was a contoured, handsome, noble face filled with power and wisdom. He barely recognised it as his own.

“Wow!” he gasped, finding himself a little surprised to hear his own fairly high-pitched, barely-breaking voice coming out of such a face when surely it should have been a resonant boom. “Now I really look the part!”

“There’s my husband!” Rowan beamed, slipping her arms around him from behind and kissing him on the cheek. Nep was thankful for the makeup because it went a fair way towards concealing his blush. “How about we get your mum in here and see what she thinks?” Nep agreed and took her hand, allowing himself to be led to the little round, carpeted stage in front of the curved sofa while Melanie went to fetch his mum from reception.

“Oh my!” Nep’s mum exclaimed walking in. “I barely recognised you! You look so handsome and majestic!” She beamed proudly at her son then seemed to notice Rowan and her bare breast. “Oh, my dear!” She smiled awkwardly at the older teen. “You seem to have… umm….” She circled her finger over her own well-covered chest. Rowan looked puzzled for a moment then looked down and giggled in realisation.

“Oh, this?” She cupped her exposed tit in her hand for a moment. “Oh no, that’s meant to be there. “I guess you could call it a style choice?”

“Oh come on, Mum!” Nep chuckled a little awkwardly as he could see the visible confusion bordering on disapproval on his mum’s face. “The girls who get cooked are gonna be wearing a lot less!”

“Well yes, I suppose so,” his mum tugged distractedly at her own blouse as if trying to pull it more securely closed, “but that… Well that’s not quite the same, is it?” Nep, Melanie and the others all understood that his mum was buying into the cognitive dissonance that allowed them to see meat-girls and boys more or less as animals who were rightly naked while still being mildly shocked by even partial nudity from someone they considered a “real person”.

“Speaking of which,” Nep turned to Melanie, “do I get a preview of the menu?”

“I’m afraid not!” the caterer chuckled. “That would spoil the surprise! But don’t worry,” she assured him, “the casting process is coming along very well! I am sure you will not be disappointed!”

Once his mum had been given a chance to take a few pictures of him in costume on her phone, some on his own and some with Rowan, once she had nervously asked for reassurance that such pictures wouldn’t get her into any sort of trouble, given her exposed state, a question which Melanie had resisted answering with derision and had instead assured her that Rowan was eighteen so there could be no legal complications from a topless photo, Nep sat back down in Karen’s chair for the transformation process to be reversed. This time, he kept his eyes closed until the transformation was complete, the wig and facial hair removed too, warm water with a heavily-diluted solvent mixed into it used to dissolve the spirit gum, so by the time he opened his eyes again, it was entirely his own, rather pink and scrubbed-looking face gazing back at him from the mirror.

The day of the party arrived. Melanie and her team had spent the entire week running up to it preparing, setting up their equipment and set-pieces and making sure they were well-versed in working the theatrical mechanisms that would allow the various themed cooking devices to appear and disappear as the plot demanded. Looking at the performance space, from the surface, it was hard to imagine the entire network of rooms and corridors beneath. Due to its outdoor location and classical styling, this particular theatre had been designed so that all the areas usually deemed “back stage” in a conventional theatre were location beneath it, accessible via mausoleum-style buildings either side of the performance area, one providing access to stairs and the other to a lift. At various points across the circular stage itself were concealed trap-doors or other openings through which set-pieces and performers could be raised and lowered.

The cast-members, all but of of whom had been recruited from the theatre club to which Rowan was connected, were being helped into their costumes and having their makeup done, edible of course, in the large communal dressing room which, if Melanie’s spacial calculations were correct, was located beneath the throne-like seats set atop the amphitheatre, somewhat like a Royal Box but without any sort of front, where Nep as Zeus and Rowan as his consort would be seated for the performance. Rowan herself was down with the general cast assisting with getting them ready but Nep, who had been told to arrive an hour before the rest of his class and their parents so that he could be ready to greet them in character, had a dedicated dressing room, the one with a star on the door, where Karen and Paul were currently waiting for him along with his costume and accessories. To his slight frustration, he had not been permitted to see any sort of script ahead of time, only given the very vaguest of plot-outlines that he would be expected to improvise along with. Nor had he been permitted to meet any of the cast or see the cooking methods. Still, as curious as he was, he had to admit that the mystery did make the whole thing more exciting and not knowing what to expect in advance would make his in-character reactions all the more genuine!

While the members of her team who would be carrying out the cooking and other preparations would be dressed in costumes, mostly simpler togas with no ornamentation, marking them as “slaves” in Zeus’s court, Melanie herself, as host, was dressed in a smart black suit, her hair swept up elegantly as she rushed around, tablet in hand, making sure everything was ready before the audience started to arrive. As arranged, Nep was the first to arrive with both parents who left their car in the parking lot and followed the path to the theatre area. Since he would be changing into the costume, Nep was once again dressed in baggy shorts and a T-shirt that seemed to have been chosen entirely at random while his parents, following the dress-code, were all in black, his mum in an elegant dress and his dad in a nice shirt and pair of trousers which were clearly the lower half of a suit as he carried the jacket over his arm.

“Welcome, My Lord!” Melanie gave a deep bow to the youngster and grinned welcomingly. “The preparations for your celebrations are nearly complete. Please,” she offered him her hand to hold, “allow me to escort you to your chamber of preparation!”

“Have fun, honey!” his mum called after him with a cheerful wave. “We’ll be out here watching! Looking forward to the feast!” With that, Melanie led the guest of honour towards the mausoleum structure with the lift which would take him down to his star dressing room while his parents were offered glasses of wine and a tour of the theatre.


To be continued...

Promising, promising. It sounds like this is going to be quite the production, with some delicious feminine charms. 😊

Oh, the whose of the Edward Hyde fan waiting for the stories to finish

Although I’m surprised you didn’t use the bronze bull concept for this one admittedly it was meant as a torture device with someone being heated alive inside with horns, changing their screens to the sound of bull but this could easily be changed to a cooking device with the sounds coming from girls, moaning, and squealing as they play with themselves as they’re being cooked

>>31755
I had that idea in mind when creating the Trojan Horse oven! Don't worry, there is more to come! Vic just wanted this one released whole so I am waiting to finish part two before I post it! Watch this space 😁

Honestly, Mr. Hyde, I was just joking, but I believe there is at least three spots here I’m watching for and three that have been relegated to the archives that I’m hoping will be revisited one day : )

Wow! That was incredible! I can't wait to read the rest, I'm hooked!

I wanted to wait to be back home to read it, and I'm glad I waited, it was worth it to be able to read it comfortably

>>31784
Awesome! So happy you like it :D Part two is well under way - I'll try to get it finished this coming week :D

>>31784
Here's another installment to keep you hungry! :D


To the thunderous applause of the audience, all of whom sat on the specially made and fitted cushions atop the stone seating of the amphitheatre, the children in their white togas and sandals in the front row, directly level with the performance area and the adults, a mix of parents, teachers and representatives of the various companies who had been involved the competition behind them, Nep in his full Zeus regalia rose up out of the floor of the throne dais accompanied by Rowan in character as his wife Hera and a pretty, red-haired girl of around fourteen in nothing but jewellery and a loin cloth, a golden chain which Rowan held fixed to her collar, kneeling by her side depicting her slave. Nep had been briefly introduced to the girl before stepping onto the platform but was not allowed to know her name or what part she might take in the performance or feast. He held his arms out like a rock star, accepting the adulation, then took his seat, Rowan next to him and the slave-girl reclining at their feet, reminding him a little of Princess Leia at Jabba the Hutt’s palace. It was time for the show to begin!

“Tell me, my wife,” Nep spoke, his voice amplified by the concealed microphones within the throne chamber that could be faded up or down by an unseen operator depending on the needs of the moment, “why is Agamemnon’s fleet yet to sail? They ships have been crewed and ready to sail for Troy for a month and yet they remain in the harbour!” Rowan, as Hera, gave a sly smile.

“I have kept them there by the winds, oh husband.” she replied. “If he wishes to make war, then it must cost him. My oracle has informed him that his fleet may not sail without a sacrifice. The sacrifice of what is most precious to him.” Nep nodded approvingly and the first set-piece began to rise out of the middle of the performance area, a circular hole opening up as a disk of staging dropped about a foot and retracted in wedges like an enormous pizza. The set rose up through the hole on its own circular base, sealing the hole perfectly.

The set-piece was a white faux-marble altar carved with images of the gods and of epic battles, the top of which was actually metal rather than stone or anything that resembled it. Behind the altar, slightly closer to the thrones, rose up an archway in the same ancient Greek style as the altar with hooks on chains hanging from it. As the audience and Nep, to whom this was equally new, fell silent with anticipation, another trapdoor opened up around the entrance to the theatre and, just as Nep and the girls had done, five figures rose up out of the ground.

One was a tall man dressed in stylised black and gold armour with a helmet that covered most of his face. He stood at the back of the party, looming ominously, behind a girl of around twelve in a beautiful purple toga which, while still not entirely opaque, was more modest than the one Rowan wore, more of a dress than a wrap-around scarf. This too was trimmed with gold and she wore gold jewellery on her arms, around her neck and around her ankles. She was very pretty, olive-skinned like Rowan, with very long curly black hair tied back neatly. Her hands were tied in front of her with a golden rope but she did not appear to be making any effort to escape, nor even look down fearfully. Instead she looked forward with a steady, determined gaze. It was clear from what showed of her arms and legs as well as the general shape of her figure that she was toned and athletic but without being thin. She looked to Nep like she probably did a lot of cycling or swimming.

Standing either side of the girl in purple, holding her arms as if providing an escort, were two girls who wore no ornamentation other than a collar, very similar to the one the girl who reclined at Nep and Rowan’s feet wore, and matching bands around their wrists resembling shackles rather than bracelets. They were both dressed in simple black togas that left all their intimate parts covered but clearly marked them as slaves.

The final member of the group was another tall man but this one thin and wiry, his long hair which was tied back in a ponytail very light grey with streaks of white. His long beard was braided and fell down the front of his voluminous white robe. He looked to be in his sixties at least, although Nep had never been especially good at judging ages.

“Look, husband.” Rowan declared. “In order that his fleet may sale, he is willing to make an offering of his only child! His beloved daughter Iphegnia who often pleases him and soothes his anxious spirit by playing the harp. He is sacrificing the thing he loves the most and his only true source of comfort that he may go make brutal war against others!”

With Nep and the others watching in awe, the handmaidens untied Iphegnia’s hands and she stood submissively with her arms by her sides as her belt was removed then her dress pulled down from her shoulders and allowed to fall to the ground. Gracefully, she stepped out of it, allowing it to be retrieved and put aside by one of the handmaidens. The other performers spread out from her a little, giving the audience an opportunity to get a good look at her lovely, naked, pubescent body. Her figure was indeed exactly as Nep had imagined, lean and toned but with a certain stockiness that just screamed deliciousness. Her breasts were small and not yet fully formed but proud and perky, her nipples a slightly darker tan colour than the rest of her skin. Of course her fillet was smooth and bulged very appetisingly. The audience watched in raptured silence as, guided and supported by the handmaidens but definitely willingly, the naked girl stepped forward and knelt in front of the altar. Once she was kneeling, the rope which had bound her wrists was tied on once again but this time securing her hands behind her back. One of the handmaidens then retrieved a golden bowl from a shrine-like shelf within the altar itself and the other took a large ceremonial knife which she presented to the priest. The two girls then knelt either side of Iphegnia, holding the dish in front of her. At a signal of approval from Agamemnon, the priest stood behind her, put one hand on her forehead to lean her head back, exposing her neck, then with no further ceremony, drew the razor-sharp, curved blade across her throat.

The cut was deep and Iphegnia’s blood sprayed out onto the altar, some of it caught it the dish. A gasp went around the audience followed by a round of cheers and applause as the priest held the young actress’s body upright as the life drained from her. He then lifted her body and cradled it, carrying it to the archway where he hung it from the ankles and proceeded to open the belly, the sandy floor of the stage absorbing the blood as her innards fell out. Taking the dish from the handmaidens, he gave it to Agamemnon who brought it to the foot of the steps which led to the throne and poured it out.

“Now he will make a burned offering of her body.” Rowan exposited. “So that we and our court may feast!” The priest began to butcher the hanging carcass of the pre-teen, placing the pieces onto the metal-topped altar which Nep suddenly realised was actually a hot-plate! Soon the sound of sizzling and the smell of grilling girl-meat began to fill the air. Members of Melanie’s team in their themed costumes handed out gold-coloured paper plates to the children and white ones to the adults then the two hand-maidens who had escorted Iphegnia to hear sacrifice brought metal, gold-coloured plates up to the god and his goddess. Agamemnon stood and returned to the altar, taking over the roll of barbecue chef which seemed rather comical in his armour but was never the less a sensible and practical choice. The handmaidens were brought big baskets of bread rolls which they stood holding either side of the altar.

As the gods to whom the sacrifice was made, Nep and Rowan were the first invited to partake of the meat. At the beckoning of the handmaidens, Rowan stood, took Nep’s hand and, leaving her slave girl reclining by the throne, led him down the steps where they were both deferentially presented with a bread roll on one of the golden paper plates, each containing one of Iphegnia’s perky, budding breasts and a thick slice of rump. On a third dish, a small metal one this time, they were served the young girl’s plump fillet, cut into the shape of a heart like the flower girl’s at a wedding. On the either side of the plate were slim, silver forks with only two prongs. They took one of these each and, finding that the fillet had actually pre-emptively been cut in half and pushed back together, they each pierced one side and fed it to the other while the watching audience cheered. The taste was exquisite, rich and smokey, seasoned to perfection. Had he really been bestowed with the powers of a god, it was a sacrifice which would have made Nep feel inclined to grant any prayer!

“Wow! This is really delicious!” Nep exclaimed, happily munching on his roll once he and his wife for the afternoon were back on their thrones and all the other guests lined up for their share, children first and then the parents.

“This is only the beginning!” Rowan grinned, feeding a small scrap to her slave girl then stroking her hair lovingly. “Just a little taste! Don’t want that lovely stomach of yours bulging, do we?” Nep wondered what was meant by that comment and what role, if any, the slave-girl might play in the afternoon’s entertainment but he was sure he would find out when the time was right and it was quite clear that Rowan had no intention of telling him anything ahead of time!


To be continued...

>>31800

> “Just a little taste! …”
This post can also only be a little taste, taking into account that you announced that you'll try to get Part Two finished this coming week. It's just Monday which means there is much time to deliver an epic epos, isn't it? :)=) I'm sure we can expect another splendid masterpiece.


@Tanja Mars and @Sven Ritter: This opulent setup developed by Edward looks to me very suitable for your kind of artwork as you already had produced scenarios with feasts at (garden) parties. What do you think?

Very sorry, I don't think I am going to finish this by the end of tomorrow and I'm sure nobody wants to see the ending rushed! I will be otherwise occupied for about a week from tomorrow so I shall finish it when I'm back! In the mean time, I shall post as much as I have so far!

Once everyone was close to being done eating their Iphegnia appetiser, members of Melanie’s team went around with rubbish bags to collect the used plates. Agamemnon knelt with his head bowed on one side of the altar while the priest stood looking upwards, his arms raised to the heavens, on the other and the two handmaidens knelt at either end, their heads bowed in supplication like their master. The whole scene and all the performers who had been part of it sank down into the floor which closed over them, leaving an open and empty arena once more. Nep was about to ask what was going to happen next but then a deep and resonant voice began to boom through the speakers around the theatre.

“And so, his sacrifice being pleasing to Hera and to her husband and their court, Agamemnon and his fleet did set sail for Troy.” The voice was familiar, like it was somebody he knew from TV, and Nep wondered whether it was a pre-recorded track or there was someone down below reading out the narration in real time. Either was, he wondered also whether it really was a performance by someone famous that Melanie’s company had been able to arrange or whether it was just a man with a similar voice imitating the better-known actor. “The journey was long and arduous,” the voice continued in a sonorous rumble, “but in time they reached their destination and did lay siege to the city. But,” the narration continued, “the walls of Troy were impregnable, its soldiers who defended them mighty, and although they could not be defeated, Agamemnon’s army could gain no advantage over them either. Days turned to weeks, weeks to months and months to years,” the unseen narrator reported gravely as the whole audience, Nep included, listened in enraptured silence, “and the goddesses who watched over the Greeks and over the people of Troy wept at the loss of life and resolved to beseech Zeus to bring about a speedy conclusion. Yet each wished for their chosen people to prevail.”

Two smaller circular trap-doors opened in the floor and a cloud of smoke, illuminated very brightly from below, erupted from each of them. The light made them almost too bright to look at, which was the idea, and as the light disappeared and the smoke began to dissipate, two figures were revealed. Two girls, both around fifteen or sixteen years old, now stood before the throne. Both incredibly beautiful, one on the left from Nep’s perspective was black with her hair in micro-braids but tied up elegantly under a golden tiara. He sheer toga was a rich purple and she wore gold jewellery like Rowan’s. The other girl had golden-blonde hair which was partially tied back and partially allowed to hang in ringlets either side of her face and onto her shoulders, and a honey tone to her skin hinting at perhaps some mixed heritage in her ancestry. Her toga was green to match her eyes. Like Rowan, both girls had one breast exposed. In the case of the girl in purple it was her right and for the girl in green her left.

“Why have you come before us?” Rowan, in her role as Hera, asked imperiously.

“I, Artemis, have come to petition the Mighty Zeus on behalf of the people of Troy!” the black girl declared.

“And I, Athena, seek your favour, oh Mighty Zeus, for the Greeks.”

“And what will you offer me in return for my favour?” Nep asked, taking in the sight of the scantily-clad teens and trying not to think too much about what he knew must be to come later, wanting to savour the whole experience and enjoy every moment building up to the inevitable climax.

“I present to you the Three Graces.” Athena declared, gesturing with her hand to the middle of the performance area where, with an explosion of smoke and sparks like those from fireworks, three girls of thirteen or fourteen had appeared, each dressed in simple togas the same colour as Athena’s own but without the golden embellishments. The girls, who posed together in a classical formation, all wore their hair up in the style common in statues from the time and were clearly very athletic although of different body types, one tall and willowy, the shortest on the plump side and one in between. The two goddesses stepped aside and stood either side of the steps up to the throne to watch with the audience as music began to play through the speakers and the girls broke formation and began to dance.

From the beginning the dance was sensuous, but a little more than half a minute in, they all took hold of each other’s togas, which were effectively long scarves like Rowan’s, and spun away from each other, unwrapping their otherwise naked bodies in the process. Now things were very interesting and Nep leant forward to watch, laying one arm across his lap to dry to disguise the tent beneath his toga and wondering why it has seemed to important to the catering team that he not wear underwear beneath. All the audience, boys, girls, parents and teachers alike were also leaning forward to watch the dance, whether admiring the artistry as the girls incorporated the scarves into their dance to beautiful effect, their lovely naked bodies or a mixture of both. Eventually the music ended and the girls gave low curtseys towards the couple of their thrones then surrounded their mistress like a bodyguard as she stepped forward to address Nep.

“Did their dance please you, oh Mighty Zeus?” she asked.

“Most definitely!” Nep declared, in character and liking the way the microphones picked up, deepened and amplified his voice as it echoed around the theatre in a most god-like way. “I shall look with favour upon the Greeks!”

“But, oh Mighty Zeus,” Artemis stepped forward, “allow me first to offer my tribute!” As Athena and her three naked dancers stepped back respectfully, there was another bright flash, this time accompanied by purple smoke, and two girls, completely nude aside from their golden jewellery including thin, decorative chains around their waists which only served to emphasise their nakedness, appeared at the foot of the steps where Agamemnon had knelt to make the offering of his daughter’s blood. Now Nep’s eyes really did threaten to pop out of his head!

Seeing Rowan in her state of semi-undress, followed by Iphegnia then the Three Graces entirely nude, had been an exciting enough experience but he did not know those girls any other way. Looking at them was effectively like seeing nudity in a movie, beautiful and arousing but without any feeling of particular intimacy or personal investment. The two naked girls grinning up at him from the foot of the steps, however, were girls he knew very well.

At first he was surprised that he had not noticed their absence from among the rest of the class but he had been too caught up in the excitement of the day to pay close attention to the classmates who made up his court. Stood side by side and giggling as they looked up to his throne were Suzi, a red-head who, as one of the oldest in his class, was also quietly famous for having the biggest tits although such things were, of course, relative and at twelve years old, they were the approximate size and shape of a big lemon cut in half. Her wavy hair was tied back in a loose ponytail with a golden serpent wrapped around it. Beside her stood Gemma, an eleven year old brunette with a mostly flat chest but a rump that more than made up for it and a toned, sporty figure. Both girls were in great shape but meaty in all the right places and Nep was sure that he was not the only one who had imagined them naked in the past. Now, there they were, their lovely young bodies completely exposed, oiled up so that they glistened in the sunlight, offered to him as an incentive from a goddess!

When they heard about the event, Suzi and Gemma had contacted Melanie asking to be a part of the show, and to be on the menu of course. As such, they were the only two cast members not to be recruited from Rowan’s club. When asked what part they wanted to play in the performance, they had admitted that they were not great dancers but both were confident that they had other skills which would not leave the guest of honour disappointed. It had been hard work keeping the plan secret from even their closest friends in the class and, to avoid tipping off the teachers, they had both been signed up for the visit but had their parents call them in sick that morning and drop them at the theatre before slipping in among the rest of the adult audience where nobody questioned their presence.

Holding hands, they carefully climbed the steps and knelt down in front of Nep then, grinning and giggling, began to caress his mostly-bare legs, reaching slowly up under his toga and helping him realise why it had seemed to important to the team that he not wear underwear! Given their high location and the steep angle they watched from, the other classmates down below and the parents, teachers and others who accompanied them could not see anything that might make Nep embarrassed to look them in the eye on Monday but instead watched the writhing, glistening bodies of his two eager young class-mates as they lifted the bottom of his toga and folded it back, revealing his throbbing erection and pulled-tight ball sack beneath. After a little more teasing with their hands and gently licking and kissing his inner thighs, they both began to lick the rock-hard shaft then Suzie focussed her attention on the head while Gemma caressed his balls before swapping.

Unable to quite believe what was happening to him, Nep gripped the arms of his throne and closed his eyes, leaning his head back, while the young caterer playing his wife watched indulgently. Nobody other than himself had touched his willy at all since he was a baby, now two of the most beautiful girls in his class were kneeling naked in front of him, licking and sucking on it. Gemma had her lips around the head now while Suzi licked hungrily at the shaft. Unable to contain himself any longer, Nep felt his hot, sticky load shoot out, half into Gemma’s mouth and half splashing onto her cheek. Wasting no time, Suzi licked the thick, white goo from the other girl’s face before they shared a deep kiss then worked together to lick Nep clean. When they were done, they decorously pulled his toga back down over his wilting boyhood, stood and curtseyed to him then held hands once more as they made their way back down the steps.

“Did they please you, oh Mighty Zeus?” Artemis stepped forward and asked.

“Oh yes, greatly so!” Nep nodded solemnly, stroking his beard, finding himself oddly at home in the role of Chief of the gods and arbiter of the fate of civilisations. “I shall allow Troy to repel the latest attack by the Greeks!” The two naked girls stood either side of their goddess mistress and slipped their arms through hers, leaning their heads against their arms and grinning in a satisfied way, feeling justly proud of a job well done.

“Your decisions are most wise and righteous, Mighty Zeus,” Athena approached the steps once more, giving a humble curtsey, “but I beseech you that the Greeks may yet ultimately prevail! As Agamemnon offered the flesh of his daughter, I offer to you the flesh of my handmaidens in return for your favour upon his army.”

There was a low rumbling sound and, not in the middle of the stage as might have been expected, but to one side the floor opened up and a white, marble-effect drum-shaped object, decorated with carved or moulded scenes of the Greeks besieging Troy, began to rise up, not surrounded by smoke this time but with dry ice creeping ominously around its edges, spreading out across the stage, concealing the feet and ankles of the performers at ground level until the object finished its journey and the supply was cut, allowing thick mist to dissipate. Nep quickly realised that what he had first assumed to be some kind of plinth was actually a pot, filled two thirds of the way up with water. Two tall, strong-looking caterers in their simple uniform togas took up position beside the pot, from the bottom of which an orange glow emitted, suggesting some kind of electric heating element incorporated into its design.

Once again, rhythmic music began to play and the Three Graces, still completely naked from their previous performance, began to dance sensuously around the performance area before one at a time approaching the pot and allowing themselves to be gracefully lifted in, with a form that could only be described as balletic, by one of the two men. Once all three were in, they continued to dance in a circle until the music came to an end and they relaxed, settling themselves down in the gently steaming water to cook. Caterers of both sexes then approached with platters of chopped vegetables, bowls of herbs and large, ornamental jugs of wine and stock which they added to the pot.

“A wonderful gift indeed!” Nep nodded, knowing that it would still be some time before the girls were ready to eat.

“Perhaps, my husband,” Rowan turned to him, stroking his cheek with one hand while continuing to affectionately pet her slave-girl with the other, “we can plant an idea in the mind of Agamemnon’s greatest general, Odysseus, which will allow them a decisive victory against the Trojans?”

“Ah yes!” Nep agreed. “Let them make it seem as if, tired of the long stalemate, he and his fleet have left to return home, leaving behind a gift of peace, a giant effigy of a horse in tribute to Artemis. Yet let a small cohort of men be concealed within it so that when the Trojans bring it inside the city, they may emerge under cover of night and open the city gates, allowing the rest of the army to enter!”

“Zeus was true to his word!” the booming narrator voice resonated around the theatre. “Guided by the inspiration planted within him, Odysseus did have his men dismantle three of their ships and build from the wood a horse of enormous proportions within which he and forty of his finest men could be concealed. When darkness fell, the fleet sailed out of sight and Odysseus and his men did enter the horse. When the sun rose, the Trojans awoke to find the besieging forces gone and, in their place, a spectacular wooden horse left close to the city gate. Some wanted nothing to do with it and called for it to be burned where it stood but others declared that to reject a gift offered in good faith would be the provoke the displeasure of the gods against them. And so, were the gates of Troy opened and the horse wheeled inside, displayed before the Temple or Artemis as a trophy of their victory over Agamemnon’s Greek forces. When night fell,” the voice continued in an ominous tone, “while the people of Troy slept, Odysseus and his men did emerge from the horse, slaughtered the unsuspecting guards and opened the gates allowing Agamemnon’s forces, who had returned under cover of darkness, to enter and lay waist to the city.”

“Mighty Zeus,” Artemis stepped forward once more with Nep’s two naked, giggling class-mates still hanging on her arms, “it is right that you rewarded my sister’s gift with a victory for her people over mine, but I ask now that you accept my gift and allow my people to push back against the invaders.” Nep leant forward, intrigued to see what was going to happen next. The prospect of having the two girls from his class cooked for him was probably the most exciting thing to have happened during the afternoon so far and he was very intrigued to see what method would be used. He tried to imagine but it was fair to say he was not expecting the answer!

The high platform on which he, Rowan and the red-haired slave sat, he and his beautiful goddess wife enthroned and the slave girl at her feet, began to vibrate then the steps cracked open in the middle. Nep gripped the arms of the throne tightly and Rowan put a comforting hand on his as the two side of the steps opened up like barn doors and another cloud of brightly back-lit smoke billowed forth. Nep, along with the rest of the audience and everyone else who was not part of the production team looked in wonder as a wooden-looking statue of a rearing horse, nearly three times the size of a real one, was pushed out by a team of costumed caterers and turned sideways, presented in profile before the throne, before the steps closed behind it and the vibration ceased.

“Permit me, if you will, oh Mighty Zeus, to make the agent of their destruction also responsible for their redemption!” Artemis had her handmaidens stand either side of the horse, so that at least one of them could be seen by the whole audience, and members of the catering team came forward to divest them of their jewellery, leaving them completely and utterly naked. Other members of the team then brought scissors with which they cut off the girls’ pretty hair, as close to the scalp as possible. Nep was rock-hard once more as he watched the preparations, two of the most popular girls in his class submitting themselves willingly, eagerly even, to this humiliation to please and provide a tasty meal for him. He knew that it would not be gesture he would ever forget, even if he lived to be two hundred years old! Once their hair was cropped, bowls of hot water were brought out and smaller bowls of soap lather which was smeared over the scalps of the giggling girls before they were shaved smooth with gold-bladed razors and a layer of oil was smeared over them to match the rest of their delicious young bodies. Artemis then had the two walk in opposite directions around the horse twice to show themselves off to those who would be sharing in the feast of their meat then meet together in front of the steps. Encouraged by her mistress, the young teen slave girl now put her head under Nep’s toga and began to pleasure him with her tongue as the scene continued to unfold before them.

A large panel on the side of the horse, from its flank to its shoulder, lifted up with a hydraulic hiss, revealing a chamber inside equipped with a variety of tight-looking shackles. One of the male caterers wheeled out a platform with steps to allow access to the higher part then lifted Suzi over his shoulder, just as Agamemnon had done earlier with Iphegnia’s carcass. The difference being that Suzi was, for the moment at least, very much still alive! Once atop the platform, the caterer swung her down to hold her in her arms while she lay limp and compliant. He then carefully placed her on her back in the upper part of the horse so that her back arched backwards, pushing her sweet little tits that were the envy of many of the girls in her class, and the fantasy of many of the boys, upwards. For the moment, her feet were resting on a small platform to enable her to stay in place. Having been adjusted before the show with the girls’ full cooperation, the shackles were of already in the right place and the caterer locked the first around Suzi’s neck then, as she stretched her arms up into the horse’s neck, the second one around her wrists. Finally he locked a third around her ankles and, now that she shackles would hold her firmly in position, pulled the wood-patterned metal platform which had previously supported her weight out from its pegs.

The second part of the horse, where Gemma would cook, was at a more accessible height but the caterer still picked her up, this time laying her on the platform where, with careful guidance and her full cooperation, her bend her legs up behind her head so that her rump and plump pre-teen fillet were presented facing upwards then secured her ankles behind her shaved head with a metallic golden rope. With her so bound, he then lifted her and sat her in the bowl-shaped lower section of the horse, as if cradled in its pelvis. He then lifted her arms and locked them in place with the single shackle that served that area and she rested in place with the soles of Suzi’s feet centimetres from resting on her buttocks.

The caterers and Artemis then stood back and held out their arms towards the bound girls as if presenting them to Zeus for approval. Nep gave as deep nod and a team of six men, four pulling ropes from the front and two pushing from behind, took the horse on a circuit of the arena so that the whole audience could have the opportunity to admire the girls inside then it was brought to a stop to the left of the thrones, roughly parallel to the pot in which the Three Graces were still very much alive, relaxing with blissful expressions on their faces as if enjoying a hot-tub, their teen breasts lightly cresting the surface, while the stew in which they were the main ingredients slowly heated up around them. A lever was pulled and the raised side of the horse slowly hissed closed, the magnetic seal engaging and triggering the internal heating elements which would now begin to roast the shackled girls inside.

“A worthy tribute indeed!” Nep nodded, stroking his beard thoughtfully again and finding that it was a mannerism he really enjoyed, resolving to start growing a real one of his own as soon as he was physically capable. “Yet so far your offerings have remained equal. How are we to determine who is worthy of the ultimate victory?”

“Well, my husband,” Rowan turned to him, stroking his thigh with one hand and his cheek with the other while her slave still happily put her very skilled tongue to good use, “I think there can be only one way to determine such an outcome!” She kissed him rather passionately on the lips then stood to address the other goddesses. “My daughters. My sisters. My fellow goddesses. It is required now that you offer yourselves that we may feast upon you! Who so ever we deem the most delicious is the one to whom we shall grant the victory!”

“If that is your wish.” Artemis nodded.

“Is this what you desire also, Mighty Zeus?” Athena asked.

“It is!” Nep confirmed. “Whichever of you has the taste which pleases me most, that is the one to whom I shall grant my ultimate favour!” The slave girl had finished her work now and reclined in front of both of them, Nep following Rowan’s lead and petting her pretty hair absent-mindedly as he looked down at the two teen goddesses.

“Very well, my Lord.” Athena answered and both girls bowed low then approached each other, sharing a deep and passionate kiss before slowly beginning to remove the golden jewellery from each other’s bodies. A pair of young women from the catering team stepped forward with trays to collect the discarded pieces before the goddesses unclasped each others togas and pirouetted away from each other holding onto the ends as the Three Graces had done during their dance, leaving them both completely naked. They they walked back towards each other, folding the long strips of sheer fabric as they went before handing the bundles to the caterers and embracing once more then sharing a final kiss, suggesting that in real life they might have been more than simply fellow members of the same theatre group, then stepping back and submitting themselves, now completely bare apart from the ornamentation that remained in their hair, to the team of caterers who quickly surrounded them.


To be continued...

The team worked quickly and efficiently, smearing the naked teens from neck to to toe with oil then patting a mixture of dried herbs, rock salt and cracked pepper-corns all over them as, behind them, another altar like the one on which Iphegnia had been sacrificed rose up out of the ground. The one, however, was nearly three times the length and was topped with a bed of real, glowing coals rather than a metal hot-plate. The reliefs carved or moulded around its sides showed scene of the Trojan war, including the horse being brought into the city by its unsuspecting inhabitants, Odysseus and his men slipping out of it and opening the gates then Agamemnon’s army swarming in and sacking the city. At either end of this altar were bronze spits protruding around three feet out of the ground at an angle of around forty-five degrees. Mounted onto the ends of the altar’s top surround were matching bronze handles and on the ground were similar arches that a foot could be slipped under with a curved piece behind to cup the heel.

Once again, once the first team had done their work, a second team appeared with the apparatus needed to remove the hair from their heads so that it would not burn as they cooked. With a dignity befitting the divine nature they portrayed, the two oiled and seasoned goddesses, their heads now as smooth as the mouth-watering fillets between their legs, approached the altar, Artemis to the left, from Nep and Rowan’s perspective, and Athena to the right. First slipping their feet under the arches then positioning them so that their heels were against the back plates, both girls carefully lowered themselves onto the sharp, waiting spits which extended a good ten inches inside their bodies. Both girls winced as the spits forced their way through their cervix and into their uterus but neither cried out or gave any other sigh of distress. They were meant to be goddesses after all, offering themselves as a sacrifice, and the self-impalement was a sign of their willingness in making their offering. Breathing heavily and trying to relax around the thick, bronze intruders, both girls gripped the handles at their respective ends of the altar and a mechanical, rumbling sound started up.

It was difficult for the audience to notice what was happening at first but they quickly worked out, as much from the way the girls squirmed and straightened their backs as much as anything else, that the spits were working their way up inside them, pushed by some unseen force from below. At around the same moment, both girls began to cough as if they had something stuck in their throat then the spits erupted out of their mouths, pushing down their tongues and scraping against their teeth until they came to a stop with about twelve inches visible in front of each girl. With the audience watching in awe, a second, much thinner spike began to rise out of the ground an inch or so behind each spit. These spikes, the caterers carefully guided into each girl’s anus to serve as a stabiliser. The angle of both spit then began to change, with the mechanical mount of each rising up behind them and lifting the spit horizontal, the girls still holding onto the handles for the moment but shifting their feet out of the floor-stirrups.

Once the spits were fully horizontal. The caterers lifted the girls’ legs level with it and tied their ankles to the spit with the same golden rope that had been used to tie Gemma’s behind her head. Then they tied their wrists behind their backs and used the remainder of the rope to connect wrists to ankles so that the arms of the roasting girls would not flop about too much as they turned. With another mechanical rumbling, scraping sound the spits moved forward so that the girls were now suspended over to coals, the tips of their respective spits just inches from each other, then they began to turn.

Inside the horse, the pre-teen girls squirmed with pleasure against their bonds, the inside of the effigy bombarding them with heat from all sides as they were constantly misted with a fine mix of water and seasoned oil, both to keep them moist as they cooked but also to ensure the most delicious possible flavour for their meat.

“Did you see Nep’s face when we came out!” Suzi giggled in a soft voice which never the less resonated around the inside of the glowing orange chamber so that Gemma could easily hear. “I thought he was gonna pass out!”

“I bet he’s looking forward to your tits!” Gemma grinned. “Do you think he’ll have both of them or share one with his girlfriend?” They both giggled, Suzi clearly understanding that her friend was referring to the young woman who was playing his wife in a professional capacity.

“I bet he keeps both our pussies for himself!” Suzi declared. “Good job we both have plenty of other good meat to share!”

“Did you notice how everyone was looking at our asses!” exclaimed Gemma. “Makes me wonder how long all our friends have been wishing they could eat us!”

“I can’t believe we managed to keep this a secret!” Suzi grinned proudly. “I felt sure my mum or yours would spill the beans!”

“I told my mum if she spoiled the surprise she wouldn’t get any of my meat!” Gemma giggled. “That shut her up pretty well!” They both relaxed in happy silence for a few minutes. “How long before we’re done, do you think?”

“Not sure.” Suzi admitted. “I can’t really feel my hands and feet already but I don’t know if that’s from the cooking or just the position.”

“My skin’s stopped tingling.” Gemma observed thoughtfully. “Like, doesn’t feel like it’s burning any more. Do you even feel hot?”

“Not really.” Suzi replied, thinking about it for the first time. “Just kinda dizzy. Not tired exactly but…”

“I know what you mean.” Gemma assured her, although neither girl could quite come up with the right words to describe how they were feeling. Never having been roasted alive before, they lacked a frame of reference for the sensations.

“We’re gonna taste so good!” Suzi gave a contented sigh. “Wish I could watch while they carve us up and serve us out!”

“Me too!” Gemma agreed wistfully. “I think I’m just gonna, you know, go to sleep now?”

“Yeah.” Suzi agreed. “Good idea. Me too. Sweet dreams!” she spoke softly and lovingly to her friend. “See you on the plate!”

In the pot, the Three Graces were also starting to succumb to the heat. To keep the audience entertained while their feast cooked, other members of the theatre group performed for them, a mixture of dances from the girls, battle re-enactments from the boys and comedic skits from mixed groups. The caterers, however, all kept close eyes on their assigned cooking stations and, one by one, the two men assigned to watch the stew saw the young teens lose consciousness. Without making a spectacle of it, the first man took a short, thin-bladed knife with a sharp end, more like a stiletto dagger than a kitchen knife, and thrust it hard into the side of the neck of each girl, severing their jugular vein. The slow way the blood oozed out to invisibly merge with the already dark red liquid that was the base of the stew showed that, if their hearts were still beating at all, it was incredibly slowly and they would certainly not be for long. Once he had administered this coups de grace to all three, the other man worked his way around with his own knife, one that looked like an upholsterer’s or carper-fitter’s tool and used it to cut around each girl’s hairline before ripping their hair off like a wig and pushing their scalped carcass down into the stew. Once all three had received the necessary treatment, the two men carefully lifted the marble-effect lid and placed it over the top, holes around its circumference allowing steam to escape, so that the stew would now cook more intensely and the bodies inside would break down.

For the first twenty minutes or so of their roasting, the two goddesses shamelessly and enthusiastically humped their spits, determined to not only be delicious for the audience but to put on a great show while they cooked. Not to mention wanting to enjoy the final half our or so of their short lives as much as possible! Eventually, however, they two began to feel weak and their aggressive humping slowed to a gentle, comforting rock and eventually they too fell still. At a signal from one of the caterers, the first altar was raised up once more, just behind the larger one, this time with two glowing braziers mounted upon it. Sweet, incense-infused smoke rose from each. With big, incredibly sharp knives designed to look like Greek swords, two of the caterers cut around the goddess’s necks then severed their spines with a heavy blow from the swords before sliding their heads off the ends of the spits and placing them inside the braziers so that their flesh would burn away leaving their skulls intact.

Finally, it was time for the feat to begin! With the pull of a lever, the bed of coals was lowered down to the base of the altar so that the heat radiating upwards would keep the meat warm but would not burn it, nor make things too uncomfortable for the caterers who carved and served the delicious goddesses. The side of the horse was opened and the roasted girls retrieved from inside. Suzie was laid out on a long platter while Gemma was served up on a round one, Gemma surrounded by roasted vegetables and Suzi on a bed of salad. Both were placed carefully on Iphegnia’s altar, between the two braziers in which the blackened flesh was cracking and falling away from the skulls of the two spit-roasters. The lid of the stew was lifted off as carefully as it had been put on and now all the food was ready to serve.

As guest of honour, of course, Nep was first to be served but instead of his food being given to him on one of the golden paper plates that the rest of the audience would be eating from, he and Rowan were given a large oval, real metal platter to carry between them and to share from. Of course the centre-piece if this dish were one breast from each goddess, the other having been reserved for their respective mothers at their request, although each one was plenty big enough to share, and both of Suzi’s much smaller, perky little proto-tits, one on either side, along with the fillets of all four roasted girls arranged like a shamrock and of course generous slices of rump and thigh meat from all. In a separate bowl they were given a large helping of the Three Graces stew along with golden metal spoons and a whole load of crusty bread to enjoy it with. Any remaining space on the platter was filled with vegetables and salad then the pair very cautiously, anxious not to spill anything, made their way back up the steps to the thrones where the slave-girl still reclined languidly to enjoy their feast.


To be continued - one more major set-piece to come!

Just a little something that Ed asked me to work on to dress up the story, ... Might be more later