“Go get yourselves cleaned up,” she smiled once they were all at least alert enough to pay attention, “there should be plenty of hot water. You can use the shower and the bath. Breakfast will be ready in about half an hour.” After them promised to be down, washed and scrubbed, she kissed them all again and went downstairs to help set the table.

Having done her research, Adeola had found a special kind of soap that left no scent or flavour residue, specially formulated for girls who were going to cook, and had left a bottle in the bathroom. Beth had used it earlier that morning, as well as the evening before after rubbing herself all over with hair-removal lotion, knowing that body-hair wasn’t always visible and just in the obvious places which she always kept shaved anyway. After she had tested it, the younger piggies had taken their turn and, by the time they sat down to dinner, all their bodies were completely smooth.

In the bathroom, Sarah ran a bath for herself while Helen and the younger two all squeezed into the shower together, giggling as they soaped each other thoroughly before rinsing off and joining Sarah in the tub.

“This is a bit like Auntie Beth and her friends turning to stew!” Shelly remarked with a giggle as the girls all relaxed in the corner tub, complete with jacuzzi jets. It was a snug fit for sure but none of them were unhappy about being squeezed together at close quarters.

“Do you think our bodies will rub together on the double spit?” Andi speculated out loud. “The bars looked pretty close together!”

“I bet Mike would love that if they do!” giggled Shelly. “He’s probably going to film the whole thing!”

“Well we’d better give him a good show then!” Andi grinned, leaning across to give Shelly a deep and passionate kiss which all but confirmed Sarah’s earlier expectations.

“I guess we’d better get out!” Sarah observed with a sigh. “The mums will be waiting for us downstairs!” With some reluctance, the four got out of the tub and Sarah pulled the small lever next to the taps to allow it to drain then they all dried themselves off, brushed their hair which could be styled or put up out of the way later and made their way downstairs.

In the dining room, the table had been set out with a selection of cereals, fruit and yoghurt, nothing too heavy for those who would be cooking that afternoon but enough to keep them from feeling uncomfortably hungry until then. Beth was sat at the table waiting for them, now completely naked without even the apron she had worn in the kitchen. Sarah’s dad, Henry, a handsome man in his early fifties with more than a passing resemblance to William Shatner, was sat beside her and also at the table were Adeola, now wearing a much nicer outfit than she had been wearing earlier, complete once again with matching head scarf, the kind of outfit Helen associated with wearing to Church, and her husband Lucas, Helen’s dad, a man who simply oozed natural charm. He had grown a moustache since seeing Ernie Hudson sporting one in a recent TV role and was very pleased with how well it seemed to suit him. The surprise guest at the table, however, was a tall, thin young man with dark blonde hair, wearing a shirt and tie that he was clearly not used to wearing and not quite comfortable in. Shelly’s boyfriend Mike!

“Oh wow! Hi!” Shelly exclaimed in delight while Andi fought the urge to cover herself in front of the unfamiliar boy, reminding herself that not only would she be naked in front of dozens of strangers when the party began but that it had also been a big part of the appeal of volunteering. Still, by reflex, her arm shot up to cover her chest but she stopped herself and scratched the back of her neck instead, as if that had been what she planned all along. Neither Sarah nor Helen had any such reflexes, having long ago overcome them.

Despite having been sat with Beth who was completely naked for some minutes already, Mike blushed deeply as he got up to hug his girlfriend. Beth was pretty, of course, and had a nice pair of boobs for her age but she was also his own mother’s age and, while intriguing, not nearly as exciting to look at as the four newcomers. Even Shelly, who he had seen naked many times before, seemed more fascinating now that he knew she was meat. The extra level of vulnerability made her seem more naked somehow.

“Don’t worry!” Shelly giggled, kissing him lovingly on the lips. “Get a good eyeful of the others! We’re all just meat after all!” Mike blush deepened even further, something he had not imagined possible, as Andi, Sarah and Helen posed teasingly for him, pushing their breasts together, bending over and wiggling their meaty rumps.

“Oh goodness me!” Beth chuckled, standing up herself and shooing the girls to their seats. “Leave the poor boy alone to enjoy his breakfast!” Shelly sat next to him, of course, and the others occupied the three remaining seats. “We thought it would be a nice surprise for you.” She explained to Shelly in a kind tone. “He’s been ever so helpful so far and you can have a bit of time together before the party if you like.” Shelly stroked the front of Mike’s trousers under the table, feeling his throbbing erection and making it clear that she hoped for a few more rounds of spit-practice before the guests arrived.

After breakfast, with permission from the adults, Shelly took Mike up to the spare room while the other three helped to clear the table and start getting things set up outside. Adeola seemed to have the day planned out with military precision and the various salads and other side-dishes were all marked with flags that said either 1, 2 or 3, indicating which course they were intended to go with and therefore when they should be put out, along with a few unmarked platters that were intended as appetisers for while the guests arrived. If everything went according to plan, as it seemed certain to under the circumstances, Helen and Sarah’s grilled meat would be the first course, the two teen spit-roasters the second and finally what Sarah rather cheekily referred to as “the MILF stew”!

At around one o’clock, the meat-girls, including Beth, were sent to shower again and sort out each other’s hair while Mike was sent back down to share a light lunch with the adults who would not be cooking, enduring the teasing from the dads with good humour and very glad indeed that he had been able to persuade his parents to drop him off early.

By the time they came downstairs, the teen’s hair both tied back so that it could be wrapped in foil when the time was right and the others neatly brushed and styled, Adeola’s assistants had arrived and they cooed and fussed over the wonderful quality of the meat until they were interrupted by the door bell. Beth went to answer it and found her friend Laura and her husband stood on the doorstep. Her husband, Max, was wearing a nice shirt and a colourful character tie while Laura herself was, unsurprisingly, stark naked. She was a little taller than Beth and broad-shouldered with an impressive bust which was still putting up a valiant fight against gravity although perhaps not as effectively as it had twenty years ago. Like Beth and the others she was wearing light, presumably edible makeup and her mousy-brown hair with various tones of blonde highlights was freshly cut in a style that carried with it certain connotations, rightly or wrongly, about the kind of person the woman sporting it was.

“Do you think she’s going to ask to speak to the manager?” Helen whispered discretely to Sarah as the older woman hugged, making them both giggle. Both women exclaimed over how delicious the other looked, complimenting each other’s hair and figure, then Beth brought the couple inside where introductions were made and glasses of wine were handed out.

A few minutes later, the bell rang again and Henry went to answer it. This time, waiting in the porch, once again naked and accompanied by her husband was Emily, the last of the stew trio. The shortest of the three by several inches, she was a plump black woman who had always made Sarah think of a teacher or librarian, although she really had no idea what she did for a living. She wore glasses with colourful rims and Sarah could not remember ever having seen her not smiling. She was definitely contributing lots of meat to the stew and her heavy bosom rested on her belly, her rump curved out extremely appetisingly behind her and her thighs were thick and smooth. Her hair, Sarah knew, had to be a wig since it was a different colour, length and style practically every time she saw her. Today it was short, straight and a deep maroon colour, cut into a choppy pixie cut. Henry hugged her and exchanged cheek-kisses and shook hands with her husband then ushered them both through to the kitchen where they others were waiting.

“Wow, you look great!” Beth exclaimed, hugging her friend before Laura did likewise. “New hair?”

“Well I thought it was a special occasion!” Emily grinned. “Besides,” she pulled off the wig and ran her hand over her gleaming, bare scalp, “I thought this would be more practical!”

“Oh I wish I’d thought of that!” Beth chuckled as her pot-mate put her wig back on and adjusted it. Now that all the husbands had arrived, Henry proudly took them outside to show them the grill and the roasting pit with its twin spits.

“Bet he’s not going to tell them how long it took them to build the spit!” Sarah giggled to Helen once they were safely out of ear-shot. The pair laughed together then Sarah’s eyes drifted back to the three naked women in the kitchen. It was with a sense of almost parental pride that she verified that her mum definitely had the nicest figure out of all of them. For a woman who was, in her own words, just the right side of fifty, she had a lovely body that could just as easily have been butchered like Sarah and Helen would be or even prepared as a spit-roast. Still, it was nice that she would cook with friends and the stew was certain to be a real treat for all those who got to enjoy it!

“So what time is Mr Rogers arriving?” Sarah asked curiously as Adeola bustled past carrying a crate of glasses intended for the bar. She found herself oddly curious to meet the man who would be butchering her, treating her body with professional detachment, not caring about her likes, desires, hobbies or memories, just seeing her and her lover as meat to be parted out. Although she knew in an academic sense that he would be killing her, the word did not feel appropriate to the occasion. She didn’t think of herself as being killed so much as being converted, changed from a person into meat or, more accurately, turned from meat on the hoof into delicious cuts ready for the grill. She wondered if the others felt the same.

“With the other guests.” Helen’s mum replied. “We want you all to mingle first, so there’s no need for him to be here early.”

Half an hour later, the naked girls and women were all summoned together onto the patio by Adeola and given trays to carry, some with welcome drinks such as sparkling wine or fresh orange juice on them and others with finger-food that could be enjoyed without the need for plates.

“The guests will start arriving soon,” she reminded them, gesturing towards the open gate by the side of the house, “do wander around and talk to as many people as you can. Show them the menu. Don’t be shy about letting them feel the quality of your meat,” she turned to the two youngest girls, “but don’t feel like you have to put up with anything that makes you uncomfortable. You have agreed to be their food, not their toys! Anyone takes liberties,” she told them in a serious tone, “you come tell me and I will deal with them!” Sarah felt a slightly pang of pity for any guest who might try to push the limits. As sweet and loving as her second mother was, she was also the last person she would want to be on the wrong side of! “That goes for you too.” Adeola addressed Helen and Sarah. “You ladies,” she turned to Beth, Emily and Laura, “I trust to be able to take care of yourselves!” There were good-natured chuckles from the three naked forty-somethings. “Any questions?” Adeola asked, like a teacher who had just assigned tasks to her class. Everyone shook their heads. “Very good!” she nodded. “Let’s make sure this is a party people talk about for years to come!”

It was not long before the guests began to arrive. As was only natural, the young teens got the majority of the attention and seemed to bask in it, the novelty of walking around naked among dozens of strangers being new and exciting for them, as well as their naked bodies being something of a thrilling taboo for the guests. Most of them, of course, were friends and acquaintances of the Beth and her friends so the mature piggies often got drawn into conversation and had to be reminded by Adeola, sometimes quite sternly, to keep circulating. This left the young lovers, for once, feeling a little left out. Still, they circulated happily, usually sticking quite close to each other, and accepting in the spirit they were intended the compliments about their bodies, especially their breasts and rumps.

Not all the guests were middle-aged, of course. Quite a lot of them were there as families, with their children ranging from as young as four or five up to around Sarah and Helen’s age. It was the other young women and the little girls who paid the most attention to them, they found, many clearly picturing themselves in their place and wondering if they would have the courage to display themselves in that way and to allow themselves to be put on the menu for their own parents’ parties if asked. Boys too shot many rather sheepish looks in their direction but seemed too embarrassed to talk to them or to even look at them directly if either Sarah or Helen tried to engage them in conversation. After about forty minutes of mingling, when most of the guests had arrived and it was getting close to time to start the preparations, Shelly approached Sarah and her girlfriend with a slightly worried expression on her face.

“Can we talk?” she asked, tucking her empty tray under her arm.

“Of course.” Sarah responded with concern, setting her own half-full tray of drinks down on the patio table she happened to be standing close to. People could help themselves if they wanted. Her sweet cousin’s well-being was the most important thing in that moment. “What’s the matter?” she asked, as Helen set her own tray down and stepped closer, putting a comforting hand on Shelly’s shoulder. “Are you having second thoughts? You mustn’t worry about letting people down! Nobody will think any less of you and I’m sure there is going to be plenty of food to go around! Maybe my mum could even take your place on the spit? Or I could and she could get butchered in my place. Her friends have got plenty of stew-meat between them!”

“Oh no, it’s not that!” Shelly responded quickly.

“What then?” asked Sarah, her eyes full of concern.

“It’s Mike.” Shelly sighed. “I’m worried he’s not as okay with this as he says he is. He’s been following me around like a puppy all afternoon, never more than like five feet away from me. I had to get your dad to ask him to help with raking the coals so I could slip away to talk to you.” She gave anther sigh and both Sarah and Helen instinctively moved closer, surrounding her as much as they could manage with just the two of them and blocking her from general view. “I’m worried he’s going to freak out when he sees me spitted.” she confessed. “I want him to move on with his life and be happy, and to enjoy eating my meat. I don’t want him sat in the bathroom crying over me for the rest of the day!” Sarah and Helen looked at each other, sharing one of those unspoken moments of connection that only couples who are deeply in love can experience. Without sharing a word, they both agreed what needed to happen.


To be continued...

“Just to be sure,” Helen asked kindly, “you’re perfectly okay with roasting today? And with him moving on afterwards?”

“Of course!” Shelly nodded. “I mean, I hope he doesn’t forget me any time soon. We were each other’s first after all!” she blushed cutely.

“But you’re not going to be upset if he hooks up with someone else?” Helen pushed. Shelly shook her head.

“I signed up for this!” she shrugged. “In a way, I’m taking away his special fuck-toy so I can’t really get mad if he finds another, can I?”

“That’s the spirt!” Helen chuckled, nodding to Sarah to give her the go-ahead. “Come on.” She put one arm around Shelly and rested the other on her shoulder, scanning the crowd until she spotted the man she was looking for. “Let’s go see Mr Rogers and find out if he’s nearly ready for us yet!” As they made their way through the crowd of guests, Sarah headed off in the opposite direction, making a bee-line for a group of girls around Shelly’s age who, despite probably not knowing each other when they arrived, had gravitated towards each other the way people of similar age tend to at such events.

“Hey!” she smiled as she approached, pushing her chest forward a little. “Getting hungry yet?”

“Sure am!” a freckle-faced brunette replied with a grin and the other nodded their agreement.

“Awesome!” Sarah grinned. “Because I hear there’s some great meat on the menu today!” The girls all giggled. “Listen,” she leaned in conspiratorially, “I’ve got a big favour to ask, and whoever helps me out gets the first slice of these!” She cupped and jiggled her delicious, firm boobs, wondering even if she did so whether she had the authority to make such a promise but feeling sure that Adeola and the others would honour her wishes once she explained the reason. The girls all looked intrigued. “Are any of you ladies single?” About half of their hands went up. “And into boys?” Two hands went down but the rest remained raised. “Well, there’s a young man who is about to become officially single in, ooh, about half an hour.” she explained. “And although he’s been promised a nice juicy cunt steak all to himself,” the girls giggled again, “he’s not handling the whole thing as well as we hoped. So here’s the thing,” she leaned in a little closer, fostering a feeling of camaraderie with the young teens, “I need one of you to take him in hand, so to speak. Keep him distracted and, well, open his eyes to new possibilities. I’m not saying you have to marry him,” she chuckled, “or even make it anything long-term, just help him see that his girlfriend isn’t the only fish in the sea. Or should that be piggy in the field?” she asked with a grin, earning another giggle from her small audience.

“Who is it?” a slim blonde asked, looking around. The other girls seemed interested to know too.

“Over there,” Sarah pointed to the roasting area where Mike was helping her dad rake the freshly-lit coals so that they would burn more evening. “In the tie.”

“Oh he’s cute!” a pale girl with heavy eye-liner and dyed-black hair exclaimed.

“Hey, I saw him first!” the brunette who had been first to answer Sarah objected.

“Hey, I didn’t say this was a job for only one of you!” Sarah grinned cheekily. “Only for at least one! I asked you to keep him distracted while we spit his sweetheart. I’m sure it will be a case of the more, the merrier!”

“Deal!” the slim blonde grinned. “And we get to split your tit between us!”

“Sounds good to me!” Sarah laughed. “Wait here, I’ll go tell him you need to speak to him.”

The girls watched as Sarah made her way over to Mike and get his attention then point the group out to him. They could not hear what was said between them but Mike looked puzzled and Sarah played dumb, as if she had been asked to send him over but didn’t really know what they wanted to talk to him about. A curious expression on his face, Mike walked over to the girls while Sarah stayed to chat to her dad.

“Mission accomplished, I’d say!” Helen grinned a few minutes later as she saw a rather confused Mike being led into the house by four of the girls.

“Looks like he’ll have his hands full for a good while!” Shelly giggled, not feeling at all jealous. “And they’ll help him work up a good appetite!”

“Absolutely!” Helen agreed. “Speaking of which, it must be nearly time to get you two tender young piggies roasting!”

“Hey look!” Andi pointed out enthusiastically, joining the others where they stood, holding her empty tray by her side. “Your mum’s getting in the stew!” Quickly, the other three meat-girls looked towards the patio where Adeola was holding Beth’s hand to help her balance as she climbed the portable steps to get into the pot and carefully stepped over the rim, down onto the waiting seat. Laura was already in, her breasts seeming to float gently on the surface as she smiled up at her friend with her elbows resting on the rim of the pot like it really was a hot-tub.

“Let’s go watch!” Sarah grinned and the four of them scurried over, giggling, just in time to see Beth lower herself in with a satisfied sigh. A little shorter than Laura, she sank down up to her shoulders but her breasts still bobbed on the surface.

“That’s as high as they’ve been without some serious under-wiring in a while!” she giggled, to the amusement not only of her pot-mate but also Emily who was standing by, waiting her turn, and the two ladies Adeola had roped in to supervise as well as the various guests who stood around watching.

“Budge up, ladies!” Emily chuckled as she climbed the steps holding Adeola’s hand. “Wide load incoming!” The other two giggled and shifted closer together, never the less reinforcing Sarah’s observation that it was definitely going to be cosy in the pot. “Oh my!” Emily laughed as she lowered herself down onto the seat but her breasts, given that they were the largest of the trio and she was also the shortest, floated up nearly to her chin! “I guess I don’t have to worry about drowning!” she laughed. Her wide thighs were pressed against Laura on one side and Beth on the other, the six floating boobs squashed together gently bumping and rubbing against each other in the middle, but nobody was complaining, either about the experience from within the pot or with the view from outside.

The broth in which they were now simmering was mostly just water for the time being, with some herbs added for aroma and flavour. As time went on, Adeola and her team would add vegetables, stock and a kind of thick puree made from tomatoes and red wine but for now it was enough for the three middle-aged friends to sit and slowly tenderise as they enjoyed the hot, extremely intimate bath. Once they were all in and comfortable, Adeola passed around a towel for them to dry their hands then provided glasses of chilled white wine, promising that there was plenty more if needed. It really was quite a surreal and amusing image, watching the three ladies enjoying what looked very much like one of their typical book club meetings, as they often did on this very patio in the warmer months, but stark naked and sat in a stereotypical cannibal’s stew-pot!

“They look like one of those old cartoons!” Sarah observed with a giggle. “They just need explorer hats!” The four naked meat-girls giggled together then smiled respectfully as Adeola approached them with a ruggedly handsome man in his late fifties or early sixties with short grey hair, a moustache and big, strong-looking hands. Helen and Shelly knew him instantly, having met him earlier, and it was not difficult for Sarah and Andi to work out that this was Mr Rogers, the butcher.

“We meet again!” he shook Helen’s hand with a friendly half-smile that made his moustache twitch at one end then doing the same with Shelly.

“This is my younger daughter.” Adeola introduced Andi proudly. “Our other spit-roaster this afternoon.” Mr Rogers looked her up and down then nodded approvingly, shaking her hand too. “And Sarah, Beth’s daughter.”

“I see good meat runs in your family!” he chuckled warmly as he shook her hand. “Among other traits.” He glanced down rather pointedly at her chest. Sarah giggled.

“Shelly’s part of the family too.” She put her arm around the younger blonde. “She’s my cousin.”

“I can see the family resemblance!” Mr Rogers remarked in a complimentary tone. “So, are you all ready to be delicious?” All four girls nodded enthusiastically. “Good!” Mr Rogers nodded his approval. “We should get the younger ones on the spit first. Live cooking takes longer. Have you spoken to everyone you need to?” he asked of all of them in general but looking specifically at Shelly and Andi. “Does anyone need a few minutes?” Andi shook her head.

“Do you want me to go fetch Mike?” Helen asked kindly. “Did you want him to watch?”

“Well it would have been nice,” Shelly admitted with a sigh, “but honestly, the way he’s been acting, I don’t think he could take it! I plan on putting on a pretty good show!” she grinned. “Better to have him come watch me fuck the spit once it’s more of a done deal! Let him have fun with his new friends!” she giggled. “My roasted cunt will be waiting for him!” Sarah’s eyes went a little wide, not used to hearing her sweet little cousin talk quite so bluntly, but she knew very well that there was something about imminently becoming meat that tended to remove inhibitions and make girls a little more daring in language and behaviour than they might otherwise be!

“Yes, that’s probably for the best!” Mr Rogers gave a warm-hearted chuckle. “Some young men do have a bit of a hero complex and I’ve seen more than one barbecue complicated by a white knight attempting to launch a last-minute rescue attempt for his fair damsel, apparently failing to take into consideration that rescue is that last thing she wants and that she has been looking forward to her big moment for weeks or months. No,” he shook his head, “if you’ve managed to get him otherwise occupied, it’s best to leave him that way until your spitting is, as you put it, a done deal. Even the most chivalrous and optimistic of young heroes must concede that there is no coming back from a full spitting. You two want to come watch?” he asked the young women. “Then we can get you cut up and ready for the grill.”

The matter-of-fact way the butcher talked about what he was going to do to her and her lover gave Sarah a special thrill and the tingling between her legs which had really been building steadily since the first guests began to arrive blossomed into a full-blown flame of arousal. The two young teens confidently led the way towards the roasting area where the coals had now burned down to white with a reddish-orange glow around the edges meaning that the were ready to cook over. While there were two spits, however, and a double mount for them, there was only one spitting bench.

“So, um, who goes first?” Shelly asked as the majority of the guests, realising that something fun to watch was about to happen, began to drift towards the end of the garden where the roasting pit was set up. Most of them had been gathering around the patio to watch the mature meat climb into the pot but there was only so much interest three women in their mid to late forties sitting gossiping while drinking wine could hold, even if they were naked, so the spitting of two pretty, young teenage girls promised to be the far more entertaining spectacle.

“That’s a very good question!” Mr Rogers reached into his pocket and drew out a coin. “Who is the youngest out of the two of you?” Andi raised her hand. “Okay. Head’s or tails?” He made a fist and balanced the coin on his tucked-in thumb.

“Um…” Andi thought for a moment. “Heads!” Mr Rogers nodded then flipped the coin high into the air, catching it in the palm of one hand then tipping it onto the back of the other. With a showman’s flair, he paused for a second or two then lifted the hand that was covering the coin. “Heads it is! You’re first!”

“Wait just a moment!” Adeola came bustling over, standing with her arms folded between the girls and the spitting bench, effectively blocking their path. The young piggies looked at her with some confusion, as did Henry and Lucas who stood near the roasting pit ready to help lift the skewered meat over the coals. Sarah was a little puzzled too but Helen knew enough to recognise the hint of mischief in her mother’s eyes.

“What’s the matter?” Mr Rogers asked, breaking the awkward silence. “I thought it was the plan that these two would be spitted. That’s one of the things you asked me here to do. Has there been a change of plan or something?”

“Not at all!” Adeola shook her head then beckoned to two of the older women she had recruited as assistants. “But surely you can’t tell me you were about to cook these two lovely pieces of meat dry?” She shook her head in mocking disapproval.

“Hey, I never claimed to be a great chef!” the butcher chuckled. “I just part out the meat. I leave the cooking to other people!”

“Probably just as well!” Adeola gave him a withering look that, despite being at least five years older than her, made him feel like a schoolboy in trouble with the Head Mistress! The young girls, relieved to see that nothing was going to stand in the way of their spitting and eager to see what Adeola had mind for them, giggled and stepped forward. One of the ladies was carrying a large plastic tub, the other a bowl which seemed to have a mixture of dry herbs, rock-salt and crushed pepper-corns in it.

“That looks good!” Andi remarked, looking with interest at the bowl. “But I promise you we’re anything but dry!” Adeola tried to look disapprovingly at her younger daughter but was unable to hide her amusement. Shelly, Sarah and Helen burst into giggles at the fifteen year old’s very apt and factual remark.

Under Adeola’s watchful gaze, the two older women got to work smearing the two young girls with soft butter and rubbing it in like sun lotion, going at their work as forcefully and methodically as if they were preparing a typical Sunday roast, remarking to each other about the high quality of their respective girl’s meat, especially when it came to rump and thighs.

“If this had been allowed back in my day, I bet I’d have made quite a feast!” the one working on Shelly chuckled as she moved up from the young teen’s belly to her chest. “Maybe for Christmas Dinner?”

“My father was a frugal type.” the other remarked. “He’d have probably had me parted out and hung in the smoke-house to see the family through winter.” The pair continued to banter in this manner as they worked, always addressing each other and not the girls they were busily coating or any of the audience which consisted of nearly all the guests, the husbands of Beth’s friends in the pot having been giving permission by their slowly simmering wives to go enjoy the show, followed by the typical chuckles and teasing about “knowing how men are.”

Once the girls were both thoroughly buttered, including their necks and their faces right up to the hair-line, the women began to apply the seasoning, using the slightly different method this time of scooping it into their hands and patting it onto the girls’ bodies where it stuck to the soft butter.

“How does it feel?” Helen asked curiously.

“Like I’ve just been on the beach and am badly in need of a shower!” Andi replied with an expression that was half a smile, half an apologetic frown.

“Shush now!” The woman seasoning her slapped her buttery rump quite hard. “No talking! Piggies don’t talk! Stand still and let us work!”

“Sorry!” Andi replied meekly, earning her another cautionary spank to which she just giggled.

“There!” the women stood and proudly surveyed their work, wiping their hands on tea-towels ans they and everyone else who was gathered around admired the teens’ buttered and seasoned bodies. “All ready to roast!”

“Much better!” Adeola nodded with approval before turning back to Mr Rogers. “See how much better things are when you take your time and do them properly?” The butcher put up his hands in a gesture of surrender and smiled apologetically, making all four meat-girls giggle and earning several chuckles from the gathered adults too. “Now, get these piggies spitted! There are hungry people waiting!”

“You heard the lady!” Mr Rogers laughed. “Now,” he addressed both teens but Andi in particular, “have you seen a spitting bench like this before?” Andi shook her head but Shelly nodded. “Ever tried one?” The both shook their heads. “Okay,” he smiled patiently with the same gently educational tone he would use to explain a process to an apprentice, “See how it’s raised slightly towards one end, that’s where you want you hips to be. Put your feet on the steps either side and bend forward so we can see if it needs adjusting.”

“Like this?” Andi asked, following the butcher’s instructions and holding Shelly’s hand for balance as she stepped up, finding the apex of the bench an inch or so below the tops of her thighs.”

“Yes,” Mr Rogers nodded, “it just needs to be brought down a little.” Kneeling down, he made the necessary adjustments and Andi felt herself sinking until, by leaning forwards, she would be bending in the right place. Once satisfied, Mr Rogers fitted the thick leather straps around her ankles, explaining as he did so that the restraints were not because there was any fear of her running away but because, however willing the mind, the body tends to resist what it detects as an attack and there can be a lot of involuntary thrashing and kicking which is not only dangerous for those close by but can cause issues with the spitting, potentially resulting in the girl dying too quickly and not getting to enjoy her time over to coals but even her meat being rendered unusable! Both Andi and Shelly very quickly agreed that they would not want that!

With Andi laying the front half of her body on the downward slope of the bench, her large teen boobs squashed beneath her, the butcher fitted a strap across her lower back and one around her neck then had her hold onto two handles like the handlebars of a bicycle but upright and fitted the final tight straps around her wrists.

“Try to keep your head as still as you can.” Mr Rogers advised, adjusting the chin cup to ensure that the spit would have a straight path through her body from one end to the other. Wanting to comfort and reassure her little sister during what was sure to be a painful and uncomfortable time, however eager she might be to be cooked, Helen went and knelt down by the front of the bench, slightly to the side so that she would not be in the way but where Andi would be able to see her even with her face locked straight forward. Shelly and Sarah stood to one side to get a good view of the whole procedure, Shelly squirming with anticipation and rubbing her thighs together knowing that it was her turn next. The double spit and its mount rested on the carving support, to the side of the glowing coal pit. Mr Rogers lifted out the first one and approached Andi’s raised rear end where both spit-holes were conveniently exposed.

“I think Papa’s enjoying this!” Helen whispered to her sister, giggling conspiratorially as she noticed the bulge in the front of her father’s trousers. He was not alone, of course. Seeing a spit slowly inserted deep into a young girl’s vagina was erotic enough to arouse most men but the little squeaks and moans of pleasure that Andi was making as it forced its way deeper inside her only served to reinforce the impression. Even when the sharp steel spike forced its way through her cervix and stretched her uterus until it ruptured, the fifteen year old made only sounds or pure sensual enjoyment.

“Good!” she grinned after taking a deep breath then whispered, “Bet he’s gonna cum in his pants when he sees your throat cut!” The sisters giggled together then Andi began to cough, feeling the spit pressing against the back of her throat.

“Don’t try to speak.” Helen stroked Andi’s hair as he sister spluttered and gagged, flecks of blood hitting the ground in front of her. “I hear it’s better if you cough. Try to do that, like something went down the wrong way.” The impaled teenager did as she suggested and, met with a round of applause and cheers from the watching guests and a distinct nod of approval from Adeoyla, the spit erupted out of her mouth, pushing down her tongue and scraping against her teeth until it came to rest. “There!” Helen kissed her little sister on the cheek then stood up. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? You took it like a champ!” Although unable to turn her head, Andi swivelled her eyes to look at her and Helen was sure from the way her cheeks twitched that she was trying to smile around the spit.

Soon the first spit-roaster’s wrists and ankles were secured to the pole and the stabiliser inserted into what Mr Rogers referred to as her secondary spit-hole to ensure that she would turn with the spit and cook evenly rather than have it rotate pointlessly inside her. Carefully, the two dads lifted Andi onto the carving mount and two of the ladies who had prepped her started smoothing out her coating, reapplying some where needed, especially around her breasts and thighs which had been smudged on the faux-leather cushion while the others made short work of wiping down the bench itself ready for Shelly.

“Guess I’m up!” the sweet blonde giggled before glancing at the house, especially at the upstairs bedroom windows to check that her over-protective boyfriend was not watching and was being kept well occupied by the girls Sarah had assigned to the task. Part of her wished he could be there to watch her big moment but she knew this was for the best. There was no point upsetting him, after all. It was enough that he would be enjoying her meat in a few hours and it was not as if they had not talked about the situation ahead of time. He knew very well that this was something she wanted and was very excited for.

“Next!” Mr Rogers called in a jocular manner and, with Sarah on one side and Helen on the other, escorting her almost like bridesmaids or perhaps, more appropriately, slave girls escorting a young princess to the altar to be sacrificed, Shelly stepped forward and took her place on the bench as Shelly had done. Since she was an inch or so taller than her friend, a small adjustment was required but soon she she bent over, spit-holes presented to the butcher and anyone else who cared to take a look, as many apparently did, and securely strapped in place.

“Mike been helping you practice for this?” Sarah teased as her cousin was violated by the thick, sharp pole. Shelly giggled and blushed a little was was soon distracted by the feeling of the hard, unyielding intruder inside her. Mr Rogers was clearly very good at the job and, like Andi before her, any pain or discomfort Shelly felt during the spitting was well and truly overwhelmed by the pleasure the process gave her. Soon she was beside Andi on the carving mount having her coating and seasoning brusquely touched up by Adeola’s assistants then the dads, clearly considering it their “big moment”, lifted both girls together, supporting the spits on their shoulders, over the coals and locked them into the gyroscopic dual spit where they immediately began to turn both on their spits and around each other.

“Careful, Daddy!” Sarah called out cheekily. “You don’t want to do your back another mischief!” Henry tried to look cross but could not hide the amusement in his eyes.

“Why don’t you go say goodbye to you mum?” he suggested. “Must be nearly time for you two to get the chop?” Giggling, the two young women scampered back up towards the house in time to see Mike coming out, his hair in disarray and walking a little unsteadily, while the girls who had accompanied him into the house stood by the French windows and giggled.

“Don’t worry!” Helen grinned at him as they passed. “The show’s only just getting started down there!” She inclined her head towards the end of the garden where her little sister and Mike’s girlfriend had just been put on to roast. “She’s gonna be fucking that spit for ages! Enthusiastic girl!” Helen observed with a giggle. “Now I know why you always look so tired!” Mike blushed deeply but quickened his pace, wanting to see his sweetheart enjoying her final half our or so.


To be continued...

On the patio, Beth and her two friends seemed to be having the time of their lives in the steaming stew-pot, those with lighter complexions now looking quite red in the face and all three dripping with a mixture of sweat and condensation but looking happy as they enjoyed what had to be their third or fourth glass of wine. Every so often one of them would push either their own or one of their pot-mates’ breasts down and watch them bob back up, apparently finding this the most hilarious thing ever!

“Oh, hello dear!” Beth smiled cheerfully when she noticed her daughter standing beside the pot. “Is it nearly time for your big moment?”

“Gutted like a piggy and chopped up for the grill! Yum yum!” Emily exclaimed with a drunken cackle which never the less held no malice. It was more like the spontaneous response of a three year old who has not yet learned social graces and both young women could not help but giggle.

“That’s right!” Sarah grinned and Helen, stood by her side, nodded her agreement. “You three seem like you’re having fun?”

“Oh yes!” Beth agreed then leaned in conspiratorially and confided in a whisper that was nowhere near as quiet as she thought it was. “I think we might be a little tipsy!”

“You think?” Sarah giggled. “Who cares? It means you’re having a good time and it will dull your senses. That broth must be pretty hot by now?”

“It is.” Beth nodded. “I can’t really feel my legs any more, although that might just be from the way we’re sitting! There’s no cushions on the bench.” she explained as if the twenty-somethings might not have realised.

“Only our natural padding, eh?” Laura, the pots third occupant chuckled, leaning forward and standing a little to pat her own backside, earning her laughter from the other two as they clinked their glasses together.

“Well yes, there is that!” Beth conceded. “And plenty of it! I expect it will be time for our heads to come off soon.”

“Chop! Chop!” Emily declared gleefully. “Off with our heads!” This was followed by more hysterical laughter from all three.

“Well we don’t want to keep Mr Rogers waiting!” Sarah chuckled.

“Oh no! Go get those lovely boobies on the grill!” Beth agreed. “I know people are looking forward to them!”

“Thanks!” Sarah grinned, leaning forward to kiss her mum who put an arm around her shoulders to pull her into a rather inebriated hug before doing the same with Helen. “Enjoy the rest of your time!”

“Oh, we will!” Laura grinned, raising her glass to them in a toast which was echoed by Beth and Emily.

“At least your mum’s a happy drunk!” Helen giggled as they headed over to the grill area with all the necessary equipment for their slaughter.

“Well it’s the one time in her life she can get plastered without risking a hangover!” laughed Sarah. “So I can’t blame her really!” Helen suddenly stopped, turned to face Sarah and pulled her into a tight embrace, their naked bodies pressed against each other and impressive chests crushed together then kissed her deeply with an urgent passion.

“I’m so happy we’re doing this together!” she whispered breathily into her lover’s ear. “Out meat digesting together in the bellies of all these guests! The memory of us permanently linked. I can’t think of anything more intimate!”

“Me neither, my love!” Sarah whispered back, grabbing her beloved’s meaty rump and giving it a hard squeeze, to which she retaliated with a hard but playful smack on her own. “Let’s do this!”

“Who’s going first?” Mr Rogers asked, tying his apron and looking over the collection of knives laid out in front of him when the young women presented themselves for butchering. They looked at each other with confused hesitation, both annoyed with themselves for not having thought to discuss this earlier. There was a long hesitation before Sarah finally spoke.

“Would you go first?” she asked, breaking the silence, before adding coyly as her cheeks reddened, “I want to watch!”

“Anything for you!” her sweetheart answered with a grin that suggested this was no hardship at all. “But I do have one request, if that’s okay?” She turned to Mr Rogers who looked at her quizzically, inviting her to elaborate. “Once you’ve got me, you know,” she tilted her head towards the frame, “hung up, would you cut my boobs off before you cut my throat?” she looked down shyly, wringing her hands together like a small child about to deliver their Christmas wish-list to Santa Claus. “I’d like to know what getting butchered feels like!”

“You’re not the first to ask that!” Mr Rogers assured her with a warm chuckle. “And I’m happy to oblige! Now, do you think we aught to make some sort of announcement?”

“Nah!” Helen looked around at the guests, many of whom had already noticed that something was about to happen over by the grill and were heading starting to head over, leaving the teens to squirm on their spits, desperate to make the most of their last half hour or so of life. “I think they’ll work it out!”

“Fair point!” the butcher chuckled, pulling forward a folding step-stool like the kind many people might have in their garage or garden shed. “Plonk your rump down here and we’ll get started!” Giggling, the chocolate-skinned meat-girl sat down on the top of the stool, gripping the sides with her hands and extending her left leg in anticipation of what was to come.

Taking hold of one of the sharp hooks hanging from the butchering frame, Mr Rogers yanked the chain forward then forced the fiendishly sharp steel meat-hook through the back of Helen’s ankle. She winced a little, sucking in through her teeth but did not make any further protest, breathing deeply to steady herself once the hook was in place then extending her right foot for the same treatment.


To be continued...

Good Story so far, interesting variety of body types. Glad to see you back

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


To be continued...

> “Listen,” Sarah leaned in conspiratorially, “I’ve got a big favour to ask, and whoever helps me out gets the first slice of these!” She cupped and jiggled her delicious, firm boobs, wondering even if she did so whether she had the authority to make such a promise but feeling sure that Adeola and the others would honour her wishes once she explained the reason.

>> 31980
> “Ready?” he looked over, knife in hand, at Mike who nodded, holding up his phone with his thumb posed to start the stopwatch. “And… Go!”

I knew Sarah would forget to say anything about reserving one of her boobs before getting snuffed. That was definitely because she was so very excited to be butchered in such an entertaining way, and not in the slightest because Mr Hyde lost track of that detail. 😜

Nit picking and teasing aside, this is very hot 💦

>>31988
Haha yes very definitely a deliberate creative choice and not an oversight of any kind! *Shifty eyes*

“Wait!” Sarah cried out in alarm. “Stop!” Mike stopped the just-started timer and reset it to zero while Mr Rogers lifted his knife away from the skin that it just just begun to dent but not yet cut. This could be an issue! Technically, by allowing her ankles to be pierced, Sarah had passed what was considered the point of no return and could no longer legally withdraw her consent and would require serious medical treatment if she was to ever walk again but equally, the prospect of slaughtering a girl who was crying, begging and pleading for his life did not thrill him, especially with an audience like this who were supposed to be having a good time. Adeola started to approach, a look of motherly concern on her face.

“What’s wrong?” the butcher asked. “Are you having second thoughts? Maybe we can take a break and talk about…”

“No!” Sarah assured him quickly, cutting in with the same sense of urgency with which she had stopped his knife. “It’s just...” she hesitated, not sure whether Mike knew the girls who had taken him inside as a distraction while Shelly was spitted, or if so, if he realised it was her who had made the arrangement rather than his girlfriend herself and whether he would feel any different about the experience if he knew. The situation was awkward, embarrassing, which was saying something considering she was currently hanging upside down, stark naked in front of most of her family and a garden full of party guests. Luckily, the blood running to her head had left her with a permanent blush that would not reveal how she was feeling. Sensing from her expression that what she wanted to say needed to be delivered conspiratorially, Mr Rogers leaned in close.

“Thing is,” Sarah explained in a horse whisper, finding it a little challenging to speak upside down, “you saw those girls who went inside with Mike before the spit-roasters were prepped?” The butcher nodded. “Well, they were doing me a favour and kinda promised them first dibs on one of my boobs as a thank you. Can you make sure that happens?”

“Oh I see!” Mr Rogers stood up and chuckled with relief. “Well, that’s really up to the boss!” He looked to Adeola who was standing very close. She gave him a quizzical look and he quickly explained the situation in a hushed voice so only the three of them would be able to hear.

“Ah!” she nodded wisely. “I see! A find reward indeed and you are a very thoughtful girl. Of course I will see to it that your promise is honoured! But now,” she grinned rather impishly, “may we get on with the show? It’s bad form to keep your audience waiting!”

“Oh yes!” Sarah giggled. “Sorry! Slice away!”

“Thank you!” Mr Rogers laughed then turned to the audience. “How about we do a countdown?” he suggested, enjoying the theatricality of the moment. “From five everyone!”

“Five… Four… Three…” everyone joined in. “Two… One… GO!” Mike started the stopwatch again and the butcher got to work.

The first thing Sarah felt was the knife slicing into the underside of her breast which, while large and heavy, was not quite as big as her beloved’s. The butcher worked quickly and the knife was so sharp that she did not really feel any pain from it at first, just the pressure of the knife being pressed down, sawing slightly to sever the creamy tissue from the rest of her chest. Only when her prized asset came loose in her hand did she feel the wound itself, a sensation that was both burning and cold at the same time, although she did not have long to dwell on it because Mr Rogers was already half way through removing her second breast.

Next came her meaty buttocks, each cheek sliced around with a long, thin blade then pulled and set on the table to be further sliced later. After this, he cut around her left upper thigh, right down to the bone, and made another similar cut just above the knee then made one long cut down the back of her thigh between the two before peeling off the meat in a single piece then repeating the process with her right leg. The meat of her calves followed next in the same manner, followed by her biceps them forearms. It all felt like a blur to Sarah, as if her body were on fire and she could no longer keep track of where he was cutting. She could feel that she was starting to go into shock, a numbness spreading and the edges of her vision growing dark but she also knew that if she died before he was finished, the friendly butcher would lose the challenge and she didn’t want that for him so mustered all her willpower to hold on.

Surely he could not need much longer? Sarah thought as he hung upside-down, becoming less of herself by the second as the pile of fresh, pink meat on the table next to her love’s continued to grow. There could not be that much meat left on her body! He only part of her body left untouched was her face and neck so that her head, along with Helen’s, could be preserved like she had discussed with her mum. She hoped that was within the rules of this challenge and wouldn’t disqualify Mr Rogers’ result! She felt a tugging sensation as her back was peeled away in the single piece then her belly cut out completely. Although fairly sure that her fillet was still attached, she could not look up to check. Was he leaving that until last? Then she felt the pressure of a short blade slicing around it and levering it off. Her eyes went wide as her ribs were removed in four sections with an audible crack then there was a tug that made the whole of what was left of her body jerk forward and her heart was pulled free from her chest.

A jubilant cry of “Three minutes and fifty-eight seconds!” followed by enthusiastic cheers and applause was the last thing Sarah heard before the blackness engulfed her. With everyone surging forward to congratulate the butcher, the two dads removed her head and sat it next to her sweetheart’s on the table then took the stripped and ravaged skeleton down from the frame and tossed it into the wheelbarrow on top of Helen’s.

To be continued...

(See, JoyJuice? I had it planned all along! Honest! :-P )

>>31992
Yes, naturally. You were just building suspense. I never should have doubted you. ;)

“The sows in the pot are probably ready for their heads to come off.” Mr Rogers observed, turning to the two dads. “It’s best to do that before they start sinking otherwise you can end up with hair in the stew and nobody wants that!” They chuckled in agreement. “Do you think you can handle that while I finish parting out this meat?” He gestured to the tender remains of the two young women on the table then picked up a large knife in a hard protective case and offered it handle-first to the two men. They looked from one to the other nervously, both rather intrigued by the idea but somewhat lacking the confidence that they could pull it off professionally and Henry especially unsure whether, as willing as he was and as much as he was looking forward to her meat, as well as the experience of watching her and their daughter cooking, he could actually be the one to behead his wife. As the silent exchange between them continued, each second seemed to stretch into an eternity before Adoela reached out and took the offered handle.

“I’ll take that, I think!” She shook her head and tutted in mildly annoyed amusement. “Honestly! Why do I ever expect men to handle things for themselves?” This earned her a chuckle from the gathered audience of guests, some of whom were starting to drift off towards the patio, ready for the next big show, while others seemed to want to stay to watch the young meat parted out and secure their places at the front of the queue. Still others were heading back over to watch the teens on their spits, still humping them with shameless enthusiasm as they turned slowly over the glowing coals. The two dads hung their heads sheepishly.

“Have you done this before?” Mr Rogers asked as Adeola drew the blade from its sheath and looked at it approvingly. “I could come over and show you if…” He fell silent as she shot him a look that suggested if he continued talking, she might practice her beheading technique on him. “Okay! Well I’ll be here if you need me.” She gave him a curt nod and re-sheathed the knife the strode purposefully towards the stew pot with its three rather inebriated occupants.

“Uh-oh!” Emily giggle theatrically when she saw Adeola approaching, the large knife in her hand and a determined expression on her face. “Here comes the chopper to chop off our heads!” All three women giggled. As well as the two dads who followed her, Laura and Emily’s husbands were let through to the front of the huddle to watch their wives’ final moments.

“Okay piggies!” Adeola stood with her arms folded, tapping the blade against her bicep, her stern expression belied by the warmth in her eyes as she addressed her friends. “Who’s first!”

“Oh! Oh!” Emily bounced up and down, waving her hand like a child desperate to be called on by the teacher, causing the broth to slosh around and a little to slop over the side of the pot. “Do me first!”

“Yes, please do!” Laura rolled her eyes. “Or we’ll never hear the end of it!!” Beth raised her glass and shrugged to indicate that she had no objection. Adeola nodded and went to stand behind the bubbly and excitable women who had long since given up on her glasses since the steam from the stew made them fog up but was still wearing her wig and holding her wine glass.

“I think I’d better take that!” Beth offered, reaching forward to take Emily’s glass after she downed the last of its contents.

“Take this too!” Emily offered, pulling off her wig revealing the smooth dome of her head beneath but instead of passing it to her friend, threw it playfully in her face. Beth caught it and giggled before handing it off to Emily’s husband who was stood close behind her for the best view, facing his wife. Adeloa put her strong arm around Emily’s neck as if putting her in a headlock, yanking her chin upwards, the cut deeply across her throat. Emily’s eyes went wide as if from shock and she gasped and spluttered a little but Adeola worked fast, cutting deeply all the way around her neck before passing the knife to her husband who accepted it meekly, taking hold of Emily’s head with both hands then giving it a sharp twist to snap the neck, lifting it away with a look of triumph and the headless body fell forward, blood spraying rather weakly from the next stump onto the other two women in the pot and one or two observers who had stood too close.

“You might as well just put that back in!” Emily’s husband suggested as Adeola looked from the head in the hands to the three spikes that had been set up. “She shaved specially!”

“Good thinking!” Adeola nodded in agreement before taking the knife back from her husband, wiping it on her apron and using it to shave the brows above Emily’s eyes which had moved backwards. “Catch!” she grinned, throwing the head to Laura who caught it instinctively, dropping her own wine-glass into the stew.

“Here, let me!” Beth offered, passing the two glasses she held to Henry then leaning forward to fish around for the dropped glass. Reaching past a lifeless, fleshy bulge which was either one of Emily’s breasts or her belly, she found it behind Laura’s foot and pulled it up, passing it and the others to her husband who dutifully took them and set them aside. Laura dropped the severed head into the stew where it landed with a splash that made the two surviving pot-mates giggle again with many of the guests finding their amusement infectious and joining in.

“I guess it’s my turn next!” Laura grinned, as relaxed as if she was waiting to vote or use a public toilet rather than to be beheaded. “Is there anything I need to do?” Now that Emily’s body was floating what would have been face down if she still had a face, the space in the pot had slackened a little.

“Maybe sit on your hands.” Adeola suggested. “That way your arms won’t thrash and you won’t be tempted to fight me when your survival instincts take over.”

“You’re the boss!” Laura smiled, plunging her arms into the simmering broth and adjusting herself so that her hands were well and truly pinned beneath her meaty rump, her boobs still gently bobbing on the surface, being bumped now and then by Emily’s shoulder. “Okay!” she smiled up at her knife-wielding friend, “Ready!” This time, as she had something to grip, Adeola did not put her compliant victim in a headlock but rather took a good handful of her relatively short hair and tugged it upwards. The fact that Laura was sitting on her hands meant that her shoulders stayed down, leaving her neck perfectly exposed to the large butcher’s knife.

Standing behind her and starting under her left ear, Adeola drew the blade across Laura’s throat, cutting deeply so as to make the slaughter quick. Like Emily, Laura looked surprised then a little bloody saliva bubbled out from her mouth as she instinctively tried to breath despite the blood pouring from her wound into the broth. Not pausing for a second, Adeola cut all the way around, down to the bone, then, entrusting the knife to her husband once more, snapped Laura’s neck with a firm twist. This time, she went straight to the spikes and rammed the severed head onto the left-most one. Unlike Emily’s, Laura’s headless body did not slump forward but rather remained in a sitting position as it slid down, the fountaining next stump still projecting its gory display upwards until it disappeared below the surface, causing the blood to bubble up in a small dome for a second or two before it stopped all together.

Many of the guests pointed out to each other in excitement how Laura’s mouth seemed to be twitching as if she was trying to speak and her eyes continued to dart around for several seconds before she finally fell still, although whether these movements were deliberate, proving that her brain continued to function for nearly a minute after her head was cut from her body or whether they were simply the involuntary movements of dying nerves, nobody but Laura could know for sure, and she was certainly not in a position to explain her findings.

“And then there was one!” Beth remarked brightly, realising that she was the only one of her three friends to still have a head. “Well,” she addressed the guests, ever the gracious hostess, “thank you all so much for coming! I hope you have a wonderful afternoon and enjoy all the food and please,” she smiled warmly, “if there’s any left, please do take some home for later! My Henry might have a big appetite but I don’t think even he could handle all the leftovers on his own!” This earned her a warm chuckle from her guests and several called out their thanks, compliments on the party so far and assurances of their eagerness to taste her meat. “Okay!” she smiled up at Adeola. “Over to you! Goodbye everyone!”


To be continued...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


To be continued...

It was not long before all the guests were tucking in heartily to the grilled meat of the two lovers, lovingly and, even Adeola was forced to admit, rather expertly barbecued by their dads, enjoying their chance to shine on a day where they had mostly been low-tier backup and best and in the way at worst! Honouring Sarah’s promise, Adeola gave the foil-wrapped, baked breast to the group of girls who had kept Mike distracted to share, assuring them correctly that the meat would be tender enough just to pull apart with the wooden picnic forks provided. The happy group of friends made themselves comfortable in a circle on the grass, the gently-steaming and deliciously sweet-smelling treat in the middle and proceeded to help themselves hungrily.

Although the meat of two tall, rather curvy young women definitely went a long way, there was no question of anyone being too full to enjoy the next treat to be served up which was the two whole-roasted teens, lifted carefully off the coals and placed in the carving mounts where, once again, the two dads, or technically speaking one dad and one uncle to this pair, were able to show off their skills with a carving knife and soon everyone was enjoying the deliciously-seasoned, smokey-flavoured teen meat. In accordance with her promise, Mike was served Shelly’s deliciously plump fillet, along with one whole breast and a thick slice of her rump. The other breast was shared between her parents while Adeola shared out one of Andi’s much larger breasts among the women who had come along to help her, keeping her younger daughter’s fillet for herself, while the two dads shared the other. Of course there was still plenty of meat from both girls, especially from the rump and thigh area, to go around and by the time the young teens were stripped to the bone, everyone was feeling very full indeed!

Fortunately, they had over three hours to let their food go down, during which they all happily chatted, socialised and enjoyed some more drinks, until the stew was ready to serve. As the sun began to set, Henry lit Tiki torches around the edge of the garden and built a bonfire from scrap wood over the now-cooled roasting pit, onto which the remains of Andi and Shelly’s carcasses were tossed.

Rather than serving the stew in disposable cups like most people expected, Adeola brought out and passed around beautiful, clearly hand-made ceramic bowls which she explained had been in her family for generations and had originally been made for this kind of feast and so it seemed appropriate to use them for the party. When some of the guests queried with polite surprise how she had enough for everyone, she explained that there had originally been enough for the whole village and her Great-Great-Grandmother, give or take a “great” or two, had been entrusted with them. They had been passed on to the oldest daughter of each generation and her mother had brought them with her when she moved to the country and had since entrusted them to her. Everyone ate carefully, not wanting to risk damaging these precious heirlooms, exclaiming how utterly delicious the stew was, served with fresh, crusty bread. Every single guest took a second helping, with many taking thirds or fourths.

Eventually, the pot was emptied enough that all the bones could be fished out. These were collected up into the wheelbarrow then tossed onto the bonfire where they popped and crackled most delightfully, the herbs and other flavourings that has soaked into them during the cooking adding to the cosy aroma of the smoke. There was no shortage of volunteers to help polish off the remainder of the stew and, by the end everyone started to say their goodbyes and head home, there was not a scrap of meat left un-enjoyed.

At Adeola’s suggestion, Henry set Beth’s head on the bird-table so that her flesh could be enjoyed and her golden-blonde hair taken to furnish nests. Sarah and Helen’s heads, of course, would be returned to their fathers in a day or two when the preservation and conversion was completed. Laura’s husband decided not to take her head and instead it was claimed by one of the neighbours who was a primary school teacher, explaining that it would be a useful teaching tool which she would put in a tank of ants in the classroom so that they children could watch over the next week or so how all the flesh was stripped, then perhaps the skull could be used as a Halloween decoration or in some other art project. For his part, Mike left the party with several new numbers in his phone and the promise of plenty of fun to come over the following weeks until he decided he was ready to get serious with someone else again.

“The party was a wonderful success!” Adeola remarked to Beth’s blissfully smiling head, sat on the bird-table, as she and her volunteered tidied up as much as they could for the evening. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you!”


The End

❤️🤤

Awesome story, Edward Hyde!

As one of the non-pedophile perverts who frequents this sight, getting to read your writing talents applied to a story with women of a more personally attractive age is a special and much appreciated treat!

>>32077
Thank you! I like to consider myself an equal-opportunities deviant! Hehe. Seriously 'though, it's fun to flex my creative muscles sometimes and write something a little different. Like Stephen King, a lot of what I put out follows a similar basic formula but every once in a while there's something that breaks the mold for one reason or another! Really glad you liked it and thanks so much for taking the time to comment :D