Hi all, I often compose these stories in my head for my own amusement but I thought I'd share this one with you. Not a lot of snuff in this first one, perhaps, but it is meant to introduce you to the setting for all future stories which will be told from different perspectives and focus on different aspects of the goings on at this very special restaurant! Hope you enjoy!
THE GRAND OPENING
A TRIUMPH OF TASTE IN EVERY SENSE
15th August 2026
Food & Entertainment
West Midlands Chronicle
Last night I was invited to attend the official opening of the first branch of Sidney’s Family Restaurant in the UK. The popular American chain, which currently has 23 locations in the US with plans for 15 more within the next two years, has plans to open at least 5 branches within the UK by 2030.
While the evening was clearly intended as a gala presentation showcasing the restaurant and their unique menu, it is clear that visitors on a regular night will not be disappointed. The evening’s presentation included a tour of all the facilities as well as details of what can be expected in the near future.
For those unfamiliar with the chain, it was founded by business tycoon Orin Roebuck in memory of his youngest daughter Sidney after, with his support and financial backing, she successfully lobbied for a change in the law allowing her to be slaughtered, butchered and served as meat. Sidney Roebuck began the campaign aged 8 after reading an old book of cannibal-themed jokes and deciding that she wanted to be eaten. The campaign included appearances on chat-shows to put forth her case, that those who wanted to volunteer their meat should have the right to, and a series of high-profile billboard and magazine ads showing the little girl naked with captions implying how good her body would taste. The legality of such ads were challenged but were allowed to continue after it was ruled that the nudity was not sexual in nature. During the campaign, Sidney worked with both personal trainers and livestock farmers to ensure that her body was kept in prime condition. After much campaigning and petitioning, Sidney’s wish was finally granted and she was slaughtered and butchered on 15th August 2022, her twelfth birthday.
Always quick to spot a business opportunity, Orin Roebuck successfully lobbied for an exclusive license to prepare and sell girl meat. The first Sidney’s restaurant was opened two years later in 2024 on what would have been Sidney’s 14th birthday. All the meat served in every Sidney’s comes from volunteer girls aged 8-14 with their parents or guardians paid for their meat in an arrangement akin to livestock farming.
To coincide with his plans to open branches within the UK, Roebuck pressed for a similar meat consent law to be passed by the UK government but, due to the technical issues and cross-department agreements required, Parliament was unable to pass the law before the Summer Recess. They were, however, able to confirm an amendment to existing laws whereby people classified as livestock in their country of origin may be imported and processed as such. This is why the private dining facilities are not yet available at this restaurant and all the girls currently on the menu are American. It is planned that girls will continue to be flown to the UK to satisfy demand over the summer. It is believed the full legislation of “Sidney’s Law” will be passed without opposition when Parliament returns in September, at which point it is hoped that local, British girls will fulfil the bulk of the demand.
I will give an overview of the building itself before describing the evening’s events and, of course, the food!
Visitors first enter a lobby where they are greeted by a smiling, waving waxwork of Sidney Roebuck herself at around 9 years old, naked apart from the trademark cowboy hat and boots she wore for her television appearances. Behind her is a display about Sidney’s life, stills from interviews, samples of the magazine adverts and photos taken of her sat on a butcher’s block, beaming happily, in what must have been the last minute or so of her life. There is a small fountain connected to the larger one inside the restaurant, decorated with Greco-Roman style carvings of pre-teen nymphs. Flanking the doorway into the main dining room, behind the stand where diners wait to be seated, are two more nude statues of girls I would estimate to be around 12, posing in a classical style but, with a humorous nod to the nature of the establishment, typical cuts of meat marked out on their bodies. I noticed that there was a lift in the corner of the lobby, presumably for those who cannot manage the stairs up to the private dining are, but more on that later!
The ground floor is a fairly typical family restaurant layout with tables arranged to seat 4-6 but which could presumably be pushed together for larger parties. At one end is the live cooking area, which I will describe in more detail shortly, and typical carvery with trays of vegetables and meat-carving area under hot lamps. At the other is a large marble staircase leading up to the private dining area. The kitchen is also located on the first floor. Set around six feet up the wall are alcoves which, on this opening night, were occupied by living statues – local girls from gymnastics, dance and sports clubs in the area painted with light stone-effect paint. Some wore Greek-style drapes while others were completely nude. I am not certain if these “statues” will be a regular feature or whether they were just there for the special occasion. To one side, against the wall connected to the lobby, there is a large water feature that put me in mind of a penguin enclosure at a zoo, with an artificial rock heap at the centre and a clear surround allowing guests to see into the water. This fountain was decorated not by carved nymphs but by live “mermaids” - more local girls in shimmering, colourful wigs and Hollywood quality tails which stopped just short of the hips, leaving their vulvas and buttocks exposed. These tails were blended to their legs with impressive makeup and prosthetic scales which matched their wigs and continued up their bodies and around their faces.
I spoke to one of these mermaids, a very pleasant 12yo girl by the name of Melissa, who confirmed that they would be a regular presence but that she, along with several of the other girls there that night and others among her friends, had already signed up to be cooked and served once the relevant laws were passed. I couldn’t help wondering as I looked around, how many of the girls there to assist with the entertainment, not to mention those there with their families to sample to cooking, would end up on the menu before too long. From the conversations I overheard, I do not think there will be a shortage of volunteers and I found myself wondering, if I were still the eligible age, whether it would be something I would consider myself.
Dominating the room is a larger than life white marble statue of Sidney Roebuck again, completely nude this time and appearing slightly older, clearly modelled on how she looked at the end of her life. This statue is slowly revolving on its plinth and the giant Sidney is presenting a platter on which a life-size, realistically painted, of Sidney once more but this time cooked like a suckling pig, complete with apple in her mouth. This statue is symbolic, of course, as the real Sidney was butchered and her meat prepared by a number of different highly respected and celebrity chefs, whom she had interviewed and chosen in advance, over a number of days. Her chosen recipes make up the bulk of the regular menu.
I can honestly say that the whole dining area is a celebration of the young female form, with the fact that is is the bodies of young girls that are being served and eaten there adding to this celebration. One cannot help but feel that flavour is another, less explored but equally important, kind of beauty!
The restaurant was officially opened by Orin Roebuck and, following speeches from himself and the woman who would be managing this location, there was some entertainment. A group from a local drama and dance club performed a cutely amusing musical skit about explorers being captured by stereotypical cannibals, played by older teenage boys, who, of course, stripped them naked then argued among themselves about the best way to cook their prey until the girls got bored of waiting and gave cooking instructions themselves. A mixed choir then sang three of Sidney’s favourite songs (other than the speeches, this was the one part of the entertainment that involved no nudity), a gymnastics team performed a naked routine set to some classic rock music then invited any girls considering volunteering as meat to join their club and get in good shape. Following this, the head chef gave a short presentation about what they look for in a meat girl, assisted by two of the girls I later saw on the spit, and finally the choir returned to the stage to sing a final song specially written for the occasion, joined for the last chorus by dancers and nude gymnasts.
Once this opening ceremony was over, the public were invited to eat while those of us with press-passes were given a behind-the-scenes tour.
Up the marble staircase is a mezzanine dining area designed for larger parties who want to order a whole girl. The tables are much larger and circular, designed to seat 15-20. While this area is not open to the public yet, it was explained that customers will be able either to reserve their via a list of available girls on the website when they book or provide their own, at a reduced cost. While there will still be health-checks on the bring-your-own girls, they will be less stringent and the quality checks required for public meat will not be necessary. In cases where a party has ordered a girl, their chosen meat will be introduced to them when they arrive and they will have 15 minutes to get to know a little about her, introduce themselves and discuss her preparation with her. Parties that provide their own meat will be given a short tour of the kitchens before their girl is taken for cooking.
Off this area are three private dining rooms, intended for corporate events and very special occasions, where a team of chefs are provided and the girl or girls are cooked in front of the diners rather than in the kitchen.
On our press tour, we did not witness any girls being slaughtered, but we were shown the area at the back of the kitchen where this takes place and the walk-in fridge where some butchered carcasses were hanging. The set-up closely resembled any small-scale abattoir and it would be interesting to see it in use and observe the process. Perhaps, once the restaurant is able to make use of local meat, I will be able to follow a girl along the entire process from door to table.
The kitchen has all the facilities you would expect of a large, working kitchen along with ovens, rotisseries, woks and pans large enough for cooking whole girls. Since this was a preview night, the kitchen staff were hard at work creating a taster menu of all that was on offer. I was curious as I had never tasted human meat before last night but I was not disappointed. It is a difficult taste to describe, somewhere between pork and chicken, very much influence by the preparation style, but I can honestly say that, in my limited experience, little girls are delicious!
This brings me to the public cooking area and carvery at the far end of the ground floor from the stairs. There, a cooking area is set up with three girls being cooked. One in a pot for stew, one in a clear-fronted over and a third, attracting the most attention, turning on a spit. Once a girl other than the one in the stew was conformed to be cooked she would be moved to the carving area and a new, live girl would take her place. Once a stew girl appeared to be dead, she would be pulled out and cut up into small chunks before being returned to the pot along with another new girl once the water had been allowed to cool a little.
Witnessing this entire process was quite thrilling and is sure to be the most popular option for casual diners. The imported girls assigned to be cooked in this area during the course of the evening all stood around chatting with the guests, all seeming as excited to be cooked as the guests were to eat them. The girls wore coloured wrist-bands designating their assigned cooking method. Green for the pot, blue for the oven and red for the spit. I couldn’t help noticing that it was the most athletic, sporty-looking girls who were assigned to the spit, sightly thicker-set but still healthily toned girls to the oven and the girls who were either on the skinny or chubby side to the stew pot.
When a girl on the spit or in the oven was coming to the end of her time, the chefs would select the next girl and prepare her. This mostly consisted of having them stand on a small plinth and being rubbed with flavoured oil. The girl for the oven would then lay on a backing tray, have tin-foil wrapped around her hair to prevent it burning then have stuffing and chopped vegetables pushed with a kind of piping-bag into her vagina and rectum, both of which were then “sealed” with a small silver onion. The girl for the spit would have her hair taken up in a bun and position herself on a frame which was then tilted forward, allowing the chefs to insert the spit into her vagina and push it through until it came out her mouth. A stabiliser was then slid into her anus and her hands and feet were fixed to the spit with something that looked like handcuffs that slid on from either end. Once the cooking girls were done, these newly-prepped girls would be set on to cook in their place and the cooked girls taken to the carvery. Diners could help themselves to stew from the pot or, while she was still feeling able, the live girl in the pot could ladle it out for them. This was something a lot of the guests seem to enjoy.
I made sure to sample meat cooked in all three different ways and, honestly, I would be very hard pushed to choose my favourite. I had expected to like the spit-roast girl best but all three had their own special appeal. I definitely want to visit again once local girls are being served and see if home-grown girl meat has a different flavour!
In conclusion, the ambience of the main dining room is very family-friendly with prices and menu choices that reflect this (I will write more about the food after my next visit but be assured that there is something for evening – from steaks to burgers, lasagne, etc.). I’m sure small girls will be entranced by the mermaids and, if tonight was in any way typical, there will be plenty to entertain the boys! I did not get to experience the more high-end offerings of the establishment but that only gives me all the more reason to return in the future!
Go eat at Sidney’s – you’ll be glad you did!
Hey folks, sorry - was working on this but I ran out of time! Will try to do part 2 this evening. Enjoy the story so far!
MELISSA’S STORY Pt1
The mermaid costumes were amazing, nobody doubted that, but there was a glaring flaw that the designers of not only the costumes but the restaurant in general had failed to think through – once your legs were secured into the tail, it was literally impossible to walk and the locker room where the girls got changed was in an employee-only area off the entrance lobby. The only way for a girl to get to the mermaid pool on her own was a very undignified flopping and wriggling motion across the floor but, not only was this rough on the beautiful mermaid tails, it was fairly rough on bare skin too and most girls only tried it once before realising that the carpet burns and general frustration were worth the inconvenience of having to wait for help.
There was an official rota, agreed with the local schools, council and local clubs to ensure that there were at least two mermaids in the pool any time that the restaurant was open but nobody ever minded if extras turned up, as long as there were not more than six in the pool at any given time and they were not there for longer than four hours. It struck most of the staff as silly how strictly the local council enforced Health & Safety and Child Labour laws, considering that the company’s entire business model was slaughtering young girls and selling their meat, yet rules were rules and until a girl was officially classified as Livestock, the council’s rules had to be obeyed.
It was not her official planned shift but, as she did most evenings, Melissa had decided to call in on her way home from school and spend a couple of hours as a mermaid. Families with young children usually came to eat early in the evening and the pretty 12yo loved the looks of awe and wonder she received from very little girls and also rather enjoyed the looks her all-but-naked body drew from the older brothers, not to mention the occasional dad! Anyway, it was likely that her mum would not be home from work until after 7pm at the very earliest and in exchange for two hours or more in the mermaid pool, she could claim a free meal. Nothing fancy, there were a list of six dishes the volunteers could choose from, but that didn’t matter as they were all equally delicious.
After signing in at the front desk to let the managers know she was there, Melissa went to the locker room. It was empty but that was no surprise to her. It was already a little after 4pm and the current shift of “official” mermaids would have started at 3. Sidney’s was open from 11am until 10pm so three shifts of mermaids, along with the occasional extra, were enough to ensure that the pool was occupied at all times. Opening the cupboard, Melissa was pleased to see that her favourite costume set, the red one, was there. Quickly, she switched her phone to silent and slipped it into her school bag then took the costume out and laid it on the bench.
Having located a spare locker, she shoved her bag in then quickly stripped out of her school uniform. The locker room was unisex and cubicles were available for the more modest staff-members like some of the waitresses but, since they displayed their bodies to perfect strangers for hours at a time anyway, Melissa and the other girls saw little point in hiding from their friends and colleagues. If once of the male waiters should walk in and get an eye-full, what was the harm? Standing naked in front of the lockers, Melissa carelessly bundled up her school uniform and wedged it into the locker which was already fairly full with her bag. Knowing it was easier to wear her natural hair in a bun under the wig, she kept a hairband on her wrist ready to put her hair up after her obligatory shower.
After slamming the protesting locker door shut and setting the combination, Melissa turned towards the shower area, catching sight on her own naked form in one of the full-length mirrors around the wall. She could not deny she liked what she saw. She was quite tall for her age, with long, shapely legs and a firm, round butt. Her breasts were just in the second stage of development, after the hard nipples she had outgrown only a couple of months previously. She reached up and cupped them, pushing them together and imagining there was enough to squeeze. Although she had started growing hair between her legs over a year ago, she kept that area shaved and smooth like her legs and armpits. She had the slightest hint of a belly and an over-all pleasingly fleshy look. At 12, she still wore some puppy-fat but wore it well. After checking with a waft of her hand that the air-drying booth was working, Melissa stepped into the shower and pressed the button on the wall for the water. Just like the showers at school and at every swimming pool she had ever visited, the water was too cold, then became too hot and did not run for long enough once the button was released but she hit the button again with her elbow and finished rinsing off. The shower was simply a hygiene requirement for the mermaids and served little purpose other than rinsing off sweat and outside dirt.
Deciding she was at least clean enough to satisfy the health requirement, Melissa stepped into the air-drying booth and felt the warm air blast her from all directions. At least that worked how it was supposed to! As she stepped out, twisting her damp hair into a bun, Melissa heard the door to the locker-room open. Her young heard skipped a beat when she saw who it was.
“Oh, hi!” Terry smiled when he saw the naked girl stood there. “Just dropping my bag off then I’ll be out of your hair.” Terry was one of the youngest waiters, only 18 and just out of school himself. Melissa knew that she was not the only volunteer with something of a crush on him and dared to hope it might be at least slightly mutual. He was tall and boyishly handsome with a mop of curly, dark blonde hair. Melissa noticed that he was not wearing his uniform red polo shirt and hoped at least she might get a flash of his bare chest. It felt only fair, after all, as she was stood there in her birthday suit!
“Don’t you need to change your shirt?” she asked, surprising herself with her own bluntness. She always got a little flustered around Terry and really hoped that he didn’t see her as just a clumsy little girl.
“Oh I’m not waiting today.” He smiled, “I’m helping out in the kitchen. They’re a little short this afternoon – I think a couple of people have called in sick.”
“Ah.” She paused for a moment, biting her lip and wondering if she dare ask the next question. “Can you spare a minute to help me out? I need to change into the mermaid tail and I can’t walk once it’s on.” It was not unusual for the mermaid girls to have the waiters push them to the pool on serving trolleys and this might give her a few more minutes with Terry during which she could subtly encourage him to admire her body.
“I do have to go check in and find out exactly what I’m supposed to be doing tonight,” he replied with a slight frown, “But I promise I’ll come back for you! I’ll grab a trolley!” He gave Melissa a wink that could just possibly have been flirtatious, sending her heart fluttering again.
“Okay.” she smiled, trying not to blush, “I’ll be here!”
Once Terry had left, Melissa wriggled into the mermaid tail and pulled it up high so that it cut ever so slightly into the underside of her buttocks, emphasising the attractive peach shape of her posterior. Since there was no waistband as such, the top of the tail had to be kept in place with a kind of double-sided tape with glue that harmless but wouldn’t dissolve in water. It could be a little uncomfortable to remove sometimes but it was worth it to preserve the magic for the customers. She fixed the points at her hips then adjusted the front so it appeared to fit naturally and organically around her smooth vulva then taped those edges down too. On the opening night, they had had a professional makeup artist to blend the edges but since then they had made do with just the costumes and the irregular patterns of stick-on scales. Melissa added a patch either side of her belly and on each shoulder then pulled the wig on, using hair-grips to hold it in place.
It was only a few moments later that Terry returned, greeting her with a grin.
“Looks like it’s quite busy out there already, all the trolleys are being used.” he explained with an apologetic smile, “Mind if I just carry you?” This time Melissa could feel herself blushing! Not wanting to trust her voice, she simply nodded and the handsome young man scooped her up in his arms. She put her arms around his neck and adjusted her weight for comfort, excited to feel the palm for his hand supporting her bare bottom. As they left the locker room, there was a queue of families waiting to be seated.
“Don’t worry!” Terry grinned at a little girl who was looking up with some confusion and concern at the mermaid in his arms, “This one just got a bit lost – I found her swimming in the toilet!” The little girl giggled. “I’m taking her back to the pool now.” Melissa played along, smiling and waving at the girl and some others waiting in line.
“Well, I suppose this is goodbye for now!” Terry grinned, sliding Melissa into the pool where she joined three other girls in blue, yellow and orange mermaid costumes. After thanking him, Melissa flipped over to swim to the rock in the middle and Terry gave her a pat on the backside but, to her frustration, Melissa could still not tell whether he meant anything by it or whether it was simply friendly affection.
For late afternoon on a Thursday, the dining area was surprisingly busy. There were no human statues or entertainment other than the mermaids that night but most tables were at least partially occupied. It seemed to be mostly families with young children and old couples getting an early dinner in before “the rush”, not that there would be that much of a rush on a week night anyway. As always, the carvery was the most popular but, as she scanned the room, Melissa could see a few other dishes on some of the tables. She began to ponder what she would like to eat later and felt a little hungry. To distract herself, she swam to the edge to talk to two little sisters of maybe 5 and 6 who were watching her and her fellow mermaids with fascination. They told her their big sister was being cooked on the spit at the front and their mum and dad had brought them along so they could taste her meat. Melissa expressed her hope that their sister would be yummy and asked if they wanted to be eaten one day. The slightly smaller of the two said she definitely did but the other wasn’t so sure.
The other mermaids were also kept busy with young customers, including and annoying boy of around 8 who kept reaching in and trying to grab their tails, so there was not a lot of time to chat between themselves but that didn’t matter too much. Melissa kept watching out for Terry but didn’t see him. She supposed he had to be busy in the kitchen.
“Hey, Melissa,” the orange mermaid called to her when there was finally a quiet moment, “Come up here!” She invited Melissa to sit beside her on the rock. The girl in the orange costume was named Jane and was in the same dance class as Melissa at school. “How did you get Terry to carry you?” she asked, conspiratorially, “He had his hands all over you!”
“I just asked!” Melissa replied with a confident smile. She was proud of the attention she had got from the handsome waiter and the fact that it seemed to make the other girls a little jealous was a bonus.
“Speak of the devil…” exclaimed Jane, looking past Melissa. The red-costumed girl turned to see what she was looking at and saw Terry walking towards them, slightly behind Amy, the manager, a fairly pretty, dark-haired woman in her late 30s.
“Why’s he with Amy?” Melissa asked nervously, “I hope I didn’t get him in trouble!” But as the pair got closer, she could see that the manager was grinning broadly.
“Guess what, Melissa?” she called across the water, leaning over the edge of the pool, “It’s your lucky day!” For the third time that evening, Melissa’s heart began to race. She was fairly sure what Amy meant but wanted to be sure.
As soon as the law had passed allowing British girls to be served at Sidney’s Family Restaurant, Melissa had signed up. When signing up, girls got to decide whether they wanted to be butchered, prepared at the carvery or be placed in the catalogue for large parties to choose, arranged by the number of people it was estimated they would feed. The carvery girls were generally processed within two weeks and a similar time for the butchered girls, depending on demand, but “private” girls waited until a group picked them. It had felt like forever since Melissa had posed for the required photographs and filled in the questionnaire about how she would like to be cooked, given the choice. She had selected the rotisserie as her first choice, with pan-frying as her second choice and oven roast as her third. In the six, nearly seven weeks she had been waiting, Melissa had thought more than once about switching to the carvery but stood by her original choice, excited by the idea that, eventually, somebody would personally pick her body for their dinner.
“We’ve had a last minute booking – some businessmen entertaining a colleague from America I think. Apparently he eats at the Sidney’s in New York quite regularly and doesn’t believe British girls can be as tasty as American ones and they want to prove him wrong!”
“And they picked me?” Melissa asked, beaming with pride and happiness but still not quite believing it.
“Yup! You matched their group size pretty well and apparently they thought you had the tastiest-looking bottom of all the girls the right size in the catalogue!” Melissa couldn’t help but blush at the compliment. “They said if, and I quote, a pretty little thing like you couldn’t convince their friend that British girls taste best, then nothing would!”
“When are they coming?” Melissa asked.
“In about an hour.” Amy explained, “Terry here will help get you ready to meet them then we’ll get you cooking. They seemed to like your suggestions but you know it’s their choice, right? If they want you minced up for hamburgers that’s what we have to do – although personally I think that would be quite a waste!”
“What about my mum’s money?” asked Melissa, “Does she know?”
“I already called her.” Amy assured the excited girl, “She says she’s really proud of you and she hopes you’ll be delicious! Now, swim on over here so Terry can get things started!”
Part 2 of 3 - 3rd and final part to come in the morning if not before! I'd love some feedback :)
MELISSA’S STORY Pt2
“Well, um, I guess this is goodbye?” Melissa grinned at the other three mermaids, still rather in shock at the sudden news. She had assumed that when her time came, she would be told a few days before the booking, not just an hour before. Still, it was what she had been waiting for since she first heard that Sidney’s was opening a location in her home town. In some ways, the suddenness made it all the more exciting – she had been hoping to be picked by strangers as she wanted those who ate her to view her completely as meat, to assign her no value other than satisfying their hunger, and it certainly seemed that she had got that! Plus, Terry would help to prepare her – that was an unexpected bonus!
“Good luck!” Jane wished her warmly while the other two smiled encouragement. They knew how much Melissa had been looking forward to this moment.
“I guess I need to get out of this costume?” she asked. “I know it looks realistic but I don’t think it would taste very good!”
“I’ll take it off you in the kitchen.” Terry assured her, “I can pop it back to the locker room later. If you tell me the combination to your locker, I’ll drop your belongings round to your mum’s on my way home if you’d like?”
“Yes please.” Melissa smiled, reassured that Terry seemed to have thought the situation through and had everything under control. “I think you’re going to need to carry me again. Sorry about making your shirt wet.” The excited girl held up her arms like a small child to be lifted up. Terry pulled her out of the water and held her as he had before. If he noticed the hardness of her nipples he did not mention it. Melissa was rather glad that the tail held her legs tightly together as she could feel the excitement of her imminent cooking making her wet, quite apart from the water from the mermaid pool.
A few of the diners looked up as Terry carried the dripping mermaid out into the lobby where they would take the service lift up to the kitchen but nobody questioned him. Many of those who realised that he was taking her to be prepared probably assumed that all the mermaids were meat-girls anyway, enjoying the pool while they waited their turn.
“Press the button for me?” he asked when they reached the lift, “My hands are rather full!” Melissa giggled and pushed the button to call the lift which arrived a few moments later.
“What exactly is going to happen when we get to the kitchen?” she asked, a little nervously.
“First I have to get you out of that getup,” Terry explained, “then wash you very thoroughly. That’s probably not going to be very nice for you – sorry in advance.” He gave her an apologetic half smile. “Then I get you dried off, brush your hair etcetera and get you ready to meet the diners.”
“Have you done this before?”
“A couple of times. Not often. Don’t forget the diners will probably want to touch you but its entirely up to you how much you let them. I’ll be right there with you and if you’re not comfortable, just ask them to stop and, if they don’t, I’ll insist on it.”
“But they bought me, didn’t they?” asked Melissa, “Won’t they think they can do what they like?”
“You agreed to be their meat, not their sex-toy.” replied Terry, bluntly. Melissa found herself both embarrassed and excited by this description coming from Terry. “It’s fair to let them feel your meat, check the quality and suchlike, but some people take it too far. What I normally say is, if you wouldn’t do it to a plucked chicken in a supermarket, don’t do it to a meat girl!” Melissa couldn’t help but giggle at the analogy.
The kitchen was a hive of activity and the heat hit Melissa as soon as the lift doors opened. She wasn’t sure how anybody could stand to work in that sort of environment. The smells, however, were absolutely delicious. Terry carried her through the main part of the kitchen to the area near the door to the private dining area where the equipment for cooking whole girls was located. Melissa saw that one of the big stew pots was occupied by two girls, sisters from the looks of it, around nine and ten years old. They had clearly not been in for very long and looked more like they were taking a bath than being cooked. She waved and smiled at them and they waved back happily before returning to playfully splashing each other. In one of the ovens lay a girl of thirteen or fourteen who, in contrast to the stewing sisters, looked almost ready to serve. The rest of the equipment was empty and Melissa wondered where she would end up.
In the back corner was a tiled area with a small bench and recessed showed. Beside the shower, mounted on the wall, was a bowl but Melissa could not see what it contained. Terry set her down on the bench.
“Do you need anything special to get that stuff off?” he asked, indicating the tail and patches of scales. “Some kind of solvent or something?”
“No,” Melissa assured him, “it comes off pretty easily. It’s just designed not to fall off in the water. Sometimes leaves a bit of a sticky patch, though. I hope that’s not going to be a problem?”
“Don’t worry,” Terry half teased, half reassured, “by the time I’m done scrubbing you I’ll be surprised if you have any freckles left!” Melissa giggled and eased the tape off her skin, laying the scales on the bench beside her, pulling off the wig then easing the tight plastic tail down her legs. Although the mermaid costume had left absolutely nothing to the imagination and covered nothing that would be considered “private areas”, she suddenly felt extra naked without it in front of Terry, especially as she knew he was seeing her as meat to be prepared. The feeling of vulnerability was more exciting than she had imagined.
“Good.” Terry nodded his head approvingly as she released her damp hair from the bun and let it tumble around her shoulders. “Next thing to do is the salt scrub.”
“Before you start,” Melissa interjected nervously, knowing that it was now or never, “if I’ve been sold I’m not a person any more so laws about girls my age don’t apply any more. You know, if you wanted to…”
“Oh I want to!” Terry took her chin in his hand and kissed her forehead. “Damn, I want to! But I can still get in a lot of trouble and lose my job.” Melissa fought the conflicting emotions. Here was an admission that her crush on Terry was not a one-way situation but also telling her that he could still not act on it.”
“I wouldn’t want that,” she assured him, “and I don’t want to do anything that might spoil my meat for the buyers. They’d expect a girl my age to be a virgin after all. But maybe you could,” she bit her lip nervously, “have a little taste? Check how tasty I’m gonna be for them? Nobody would have a problem with that, surely? Especially as you’re going to wash me straight after?”
“I guess not!” he grinned and lowered his eyes, “And that little pussy of yours does look extra delicious! Why should those businessmen be the only ones to taste it?”
Glancing around to check that nobody was paying too much attention to them, Terry gently pushed Melissa back into the shower recess and turned the shower on its lowest setting. The excited girl felt the warmth of the water caressing her naked body as Terry knelt down before her and gently explored her with his tongue, tenderly licking up her delicious juices, forcing her lips apart with the tip of his tongue and teasing her clitoris as she moaned in pleasure. Sensing that she was about to climax, Terry forced his hand over Melissa’s mouth to muffle her ecstatic screams.
“So?” Melissa asked cheeking once she’d recovered her breath, “How do I taste?”
“Absolutely delectable!” Terry confirmed. “Whoever gets that cut for their dinner is a very lucky man indeed!”
As much as she would have liked to explore the limits of sexual pleasure with Terry, Melissa knew that he had a job to do and that time was running short.
“Thank you.” she whispered softly, “Now do what you have to do.”
“Okay,” Terry replied, “I’m afraid this may hurt some but I’ll start with your back as that won’t be so bad.” He reached past her and turned the shower off completely. “Face away from me, spread your feet to shoulder width and put your hands on the wall, please.” Melissa did as she was told and Terry reached into the mounted bowl beside the shower. “This is salt,” he explained, “I’m going to scrub you with it very hard. It’s a bit like what they do at health spas but I have to rub this harder and deeper. It removes and dry or dead skin and any trace of dirt from your body. Are you ready?” Melissa braced herself and nodded.
At first the scrub did not feel too bad but the longer and harder Terry scrubbed, the more painful it became. Melissa felt as if her skin were on fire. She tried to be brave, knowing that Terry was taking no pleasure in hurting her, but in the end she could not hold back the tears.
“I’m sorry.” Terry kissed her neck and shoulder gently. “I need you to turn around now and this is going to be worse.” If the salt scrub on her back and buttocks and legs had been painful, it as a hundred times worse on the more sensitive skin of her chest, belly and vulva. Eventually, though, Terry finished and held the sobbing girl in his arms. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Melissa assured him, “This is what I wanted. Being cooked is probably going to hurt a fair bit too.”
“Actually, from what I’m been told, this is the most painful part of the whole process.” Terry comforted her. “Now, let’s get you rinsed off.” The shower was incredibly powerful and hot and felt like lava against her raw skin but Melissa still found the water soothing, almost like a massage. “This next bit is much nicer,” Terry smiled, holding out a fluffy towel. First I have to dry you off and blow-dry your hair then I rub butter into every inch of your body!”
This sounded far more like how Melissa had imagined being prepared as meat. Once she was completely dry, Terry led her to a work surface close to the whole-girl cooking apparatus. She noticed that the teenage girl had been taken out of the oven and that the sisters in the pot were looking more lethargic, although still alive. A girl around her own age was laying under a grill, looking for now as if she was simply enjoying a sunbed.
Melissa stretched herself out on the work surface and allowed Terry to massage the butter first into her back then into her front. She could not help but climax again as he rubbed her dripping pussy. The cool butter took away the pain of the salt as Terry rubbed it in deeply.
“Right,” the handsome young kitchen hand grinned, “that’s you all ready to meet your diners, and with just a few minutes to spare too!” he pointed out the clock on the wall to the naked girl who now sat up on the work-surface. “Are you okay to walk or should I see if there’s a trolley free?”
“I can probably walk,” mused Melissa, “but it would be fun to be wheeled in on a trolley like a real piece of meat! That’s what I am, after all!”
“A trolley it is, then!” Terry gave an exaggerated bow, “Whatever madame desires!” Moments later, he returned not only with a trolley but with a large platter. “I thought you might want to sit on this?” he explained. Melissa giggled and, with a little help from Terry, shifted from the work-surface onto the platter where she sat cross-legged like she had been taught at school.
“Let’s go introduce these people to their dinner!”
The final installment of this story. Other stories to follow!
MELISSA’S STORY Pt3
The sight that greeted Melissa as Terry wheeled her into the room was not what she had expected at all. When she had heard she was to be eaten by a bunch of business men and their American colleague, she had imagined fat, old men with bad comb-overs but the ten men sat around the table with drinks, who stood to cheer as she was wheeled in, were all rather handsome and none were older than 40.
“Hi.” Melissa said, feeling a little stupid and not sure how you were supposed to introduce yourself to a bunch of people who’s only interest in you was as food. “I’m Melissa. My listing says I could feed twenty!” she blurted out, “Why are there only ten of you?”
“Aww little miss,” a handsome, blonde man with dazzling blue eyes and a strong American accent grinned at her with pearly-white teeth, “we’ve all got big appetites and when we saw your cute tushie on the menu we knew you were the one for us!”
“Um, thank you.” Melissa replied, feeling completely out of her depth. A dark haired man approached the trolley and held out his hand to help her down.
“Byron here thinks American girls are the tastiest,” he winked conspiratorially at her, “but we’re going to prove him wrong, huh?” he slapped her round bottom playfully. Terry, standing back by the door, made eye-contact with Melissa and raised a questioning eyebrow but she did not object.
“I hope so.” She replied nervously. “How are you going to have me cooked?”
“Well, Byron is the guest of honour,” the dark-haired man replied, “so I guess it’s up to him?”
“Come sit on my knee.” Byron beckoned to her. Melissa did as he asked and the businessman put a hand around her waist. “It said on your profile that you’d like to be done on the rotisserie, is that right?” Melissa nodded.
“I think so, yes.”
“Let me tell you, sweetheart, I’ve eaten more than thirty little girls like you and they all seem to know instinctively how they’d be the most delicious so,” he grinned at her again, “if you say you wanna be cooked on the rotisserie then that’s good enough for me! Say,” he looked up at Terry, “Y’all have that sticky honey barbecue glaze here?”
“We do indeed!” Terry confirmed.
“Then that’s what I want. This lil sweetheart here cooked on the rotisserie with sticky honey barbecue glaze!”
“Certainly, Sir.” Terry nodded, “And what side-dishes would you like?”
“Bring us some sautéed potatoes, bread and green salad.” Byron instructed, “But I want this cutie cooked slow. You got any appetisers you can bring us while we wait? Some more beers too.”
“I’m sure I can find you something,” Terry confirmed, slipping into waiter mode although that was not technically his job that night. “Would you like me to get your meal started? You are entitled to another seven minutes with her.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary, do you sweetheart?” Byron asked Melissa. “You be a good girl now and get that cute lil ass of yours into the kitchen and start cooking for me and my friends, huh?” Unsure of what to say, Melissa simply hopped down off his lap with a smile and headed towards Terry. As she walked away, Byron slapped her bare behind and Melissa felt very excited knowing how much he was looking forward to having her for dinner.
“Looks like you get your wish!” Terry grinned once they were back in the kitchen, “The rotisserie for you it is! Wait here while I go and get the glaze they asked for.”
With a nervous lump in her throat, Melissa looked up at the rotisserie oven with its long skewer. Was she really ready to be impaled and slow-cooked? It was what she had signed up for after all. A family was being given a tour of the kitchen and Melissa noticed a naked girl of around 10 with them. She had shoulder-length black hair in a bob and a cute butt. She was obviously going to be cooked for her family to enjoy. Melissa gave her a wave and encouraging smile that the girl returned.
“Here we are!” Terry proclaimed proudly, holding a bucket-like container of some dark goo. “This is the glaze they asked for. I’ll coat you with it now then keep basting you with it while you cook. I’ll save what drips off you as a gravy, it will be extra delicious mixed with your own natural juices and fat!” The way Terry was talking about her as nothing more than a piece of meat gave Melissa a cold thrill. This was it. This was really happening. Neither the people who had ordered her or the boy charged with preparing her was going to relent and let her go. In less than an hour she would be dead and an hour after that, nothing but a happy memory for those who ate her.
Melissa stood obidiently as Terry tied her light brown hair up in a bun and coated all but her face in the sticky brown goo.
“Can I try some?” she asked.
“Sure!” Terry grinned, “It will taste different once you’re cooked in it but you’ll get the idea!” He dipped his finger in the glaze and held it out for Melissa to try.
“Wow!” she exclaimed, “That really is delicious. I just know I’m gonna taste amazing!”
“Of course you are,” grinned Terry, setting the pot aside, “Now it’s time to get you spitted. I’m going to need some help for this.”
Melissa waited in anticipation for a few moments while Terry went to enlist the help of a more experienced kitchen hand.
“Here, stand on this.” The assistant chef set a low stool in front of the counter. Melissa did as she was told. “Now lean forward.” Melissa did so and found that she could lay her belly almost flat on the counter, leaving her hindquarters exposed. Terry walked around in front of her, held her sticky hands then leant forward and gave her a kiss on the lips.
“Ready?” Terry asked. Melissa nodded. Slowly, the assistant chef pushed the sharp spit through her vagina, up into her abdomen. There was pain, for sure, but it was bearable. Far more so than the salt scrub. The assistant chef continued to push and Melissa felt the spit in her through. She coughed up a little bit of blood as it continued through her and out her mouth. As with the girls spitted for the carvery, an anal stabiliser was slid into place along with the restraints that her wrists and ankles were secured with. A few moments later, Melissa felt her body being lifted via the pole and set into place in the rotisserie oven. A switch was flicked and she began to rotate, feeling the intense head from the electric elements on her deliciously-basted skin.
After she had been turning in the oven for ten minutes, Terry once again basted her delicious body with glaze from the pot. Ten minutes later he did so again but this time Melissa did not feel it for she was nothing more than meat.
When nearly an hour had passed, Terry switched off the oven and pulled out the tray which had collected all the glaze and juices that had dripped from Melissa while she cooked, pouring the liquid into four large gravy-boats that he set on the bottom shelf of the trolley. With the assistant chef’s help, Terry removed the rotisserie mechanism, with Melissa still mounted on it, from the oven and set it on top of the trolley.
“Gentlemen, dinner is served!” he proclaimed with a broad smile, pushing the cooked into the private dining room where the businessmen were waiting. He set the gravy and side-dishes on the table then expertly carved meat from Melissa’s roasted carcass, giving a generous slice of rump meat to Byron.
“Well gentlemen,” declared the American, “I stand corrected! British girls really do have the tastiest asses in the world!”
This is some good stuff! The setting is creative and it's a very promising starting point. I'm glad to hear there's more to follow. The writing is good, there are some minor grammar and spelling errors but nothing that distracts too much from the story. I wouldn't mind more emphasis on the erotic side of things, and more detailed descriptions of the sex. The part when Melissa was getting rubbed down with salt and butter left me a little unfulfilled, there was definitely more room for sex in that scene. Maybe guests will eventually find a way to "play" a little more with their food?
Overall though I enjoyed the story very much, and I'm looking forward to reading your future entries. Don't let the lack of response get to you. GuroChan is often very silent, especially for new authors. Keep at it and you'll have a fanbase soon enough.
this is so cute!! I adore how her little crush is still very much a big deal in her thoughts even when being prepped, I'd love to read another girl!
Loke, thank you - I agree it needs a bit of proof-reading but I couldn't ask my usual helper this time! Hehe. Also, I admit I was rushing a little bit towards the end of the story to get it finished.
Ellen, thank you so much! Really glad you enjoyed it :) I'll try to work on another one today depending on what time I have.
Tried to be a little different with this one. I am less comfortable writing from a male point of view but I wanted to give it a go. I also tried to include more sexual elements as requested ;) Part 2 to follow…
FREYA’S BIRTHDAY DINNER Pt1
“I’m sorry?” Pete enquired, “I’m not sure I heard you right.”
“We’re eating Freya on Friday and we wondered if you’d like to come along?”
“Ah, right! Yes that is what I thought you said but I thought I must have heard you wrong.” Pete chuckled a little awkwardly. “What do you mean you’re eating her?”
“It’s this new American restaurant,” Cath explained, “opened back in the Summer. Sidney’s, it’s called, they cook little girls there. Have you not heard of it?”
“I think I saw something on the news when it opened.” Pete answered carefully, wondering if this was some kind of trap his friend was setting. In fact he knew all about the place she was describing and had been looking for an excuse to visit. Since his late teens, Pete had felt an abnormal attraction for young girls, while the restaurant did not exactly offer a legitimate outlet for his desires, it would at least be an opportunity to see many many little girls naked, even if they were all shortly to be killed and served for dinner. In fact, the idea of being able to eat a young girl’s body had a distinct appeal all of its own. He needed not to appear too keen or knowledgable ‘though. “You’re really taking Freya there?”
“It’s her birthday and she’s been begging for weeks. The only thing she wants for her birthday is to be cooked and eaten! We thought about selling her but, if anyone’s going to eat my daughter I’d like to at least get a taste of her myself and they do this new thing now where you can take along your own girl and they’ll cook her for you so that’s what we’re doing.”
“And you’d like me to come along?” This was not a conversation Pete had been expecting to have when he answered the phone.
“She’s always had a crush on you.” Cath informed him with a chuckle, “I bet she’d get a real thrill out of knowing you were one of the people who were going to eat her!” Pete’s heart raced a little. He had always thought that there was a little more to Freya’s admiration of him than hero-worship and here it was being confirmed by her own mother.
They had been introduced via mutual friends at a Fancy Dress party nearly three years earlier. Freya and Pete had both gone dressed as pirates and she took this as the perfect opportunity to attack him whenever possible with her plastic sword, even continuing to “stab” while he held her upside-down by her ankles. As the evening had worn on and the little girl had grown tired, she had cuddled up next to Pete on the sofa and fallen asleep. Whenever they had met since then, there was always mutual teasing and play-fighting but also the occasional moment that could be considered romantic – lingering eye-contact, touching hands for just a little too long, “wrestling” moves that could easily become an embrace. Even if the crush was mutual, he had told himself, there was still no way he could act on it but still, hearing these words made him very happy indeed.
“I’d be delighted!” he replied, “How old is she turning? 10?”
“11.” the girl’s mum replied.
“Wow – time really does fly, eh?” Pete chuckled, already imagining his little friend naked and wondering how she was going to be cooked. “Should I bring a gift or card or something? Not really been in a situation like this before!”
“No, it’s not like she’d have much use for anything like that!” Cath assured him with a chuckle. “Just come along and assure her you’ll be enjoying your dinner! Oh, but one thing,” she added, “don’t mention this around anyone who knows her. I don’t want it getting back to her and spoiling the surprise!”
“She does know you’re having her cooked, right?” Pete checked, a little concerned, “I wouldn’t want to be part of springing that on someone!”
“Oh yes!” laughed Cath, “She’s not talked about anything else for weeks! I just don’t want her to know that you’re coming. At the moment she just knows it’s me and her dad, her aunt and uncle and her cousins. But I’ve secretly invited you and her favourite teacher too.”
“Her favourite teacher?” Pete felt a little pang of jealousy. Was there another man in Freya’s life?
“Yeah, well she’s an old family friend, really. We were at school together.”
“Ah!” Pete grinned, reassured, “I’ll look forward to meeting her!”
“Great! Then it’s all settled. The table’s booked for seven so try to be there by quarter to at the latest. Do you know where it is?”
“I’ll look it up.” lied Pete, not wanting to admit that he had driven past the building at least ten times but, as a single man, had been too nervous to go in and ask for a table, “See you Friday!”
The next days passed in something of a blur for Pete. When he was not at work he would look up pictures of Freya on Cath’s Facebook page and try to imagine her naked and cooked. He estimated that he masturbated as much over those three days as he had in the past three months, in anticipation of his meal.
Eventually, Friday came. Pete had taken the afternoon off work so there was no chance of being late and missing any of the action. After taking off his work uniform, he quickly showered and dressed in a nice shirt and trousers – smart but not overly fancy. Sidney’s was, after all, a family restaurant rather than a black tie establishment. Combing his hair and trimming his beard in the bathroom mirror, he wondered how Freya would react to seeing him and knowing that he was going to be eating her.
At 6.35, he Pete pulled his car into the already fairly busy car park and took a breath. This was it, the moment he had been waiting for since the phone call. Making his way to the entrance, it occurred to him that he had not made any arrangements with Cath about where to meet. Should he ask at the front desk? He needn’t have worried, however, as no sooner had he entered through the automatic doors than he heard his name being called. Cath and her husband, along with a lady he didn’t know, were sat on the edge of the fountain, waiting for the rest of the family to arrive.
“They’re not ready for us to go up yet,” she explained after hugs and general pleasantries had been exchanged, “but we’re still waiting for Jim and Carol and the kids anyway. Have you met Beth before?” She indicated the unfamiliar lady.
“No, I’ve not.” Pete replied with a smile, holding out his hand. “You must be Freya’s teacher? Where is she anyway? I thought she’d be with you.”
“I had to bring her in earlier and sign some paperwork,” Cath explained, “but we’ll see her in a few minutes for the kitchen tour. She still has no idea you’re coming! Ah!” She looked towards the door, “Here they are!”
A family of four made their way inside and over to the fountain to greet the rest of the party. The man looked enough like Cath that Pete worked out that he must be her brother. The children were a boy of around 6 or 7 and a girl of 8 or 9, pretty but not as pretty as Freya. Pete reckoned it might be nice to try to get to know her over dinner, since his little friend wouldn’t be around for much longer. Introductions were made and, moments later, they were approached by a young woman in a red polo-shirt embroidered with the Sidney’s logo.
“Hansen family and friends?” she smiled, checking her clipboard. Cath nodded. “Lovely! Follow me. Is everyone okay with stairs?” Everyone politely muttered their confirmation and followed the young woman out of the lobby, into the maid dining hall and up the marble stairs. Pete tried to look around as much as possible – there were several families eating at the tables, a giant naked statue of the girl the restaurant was named after and a pool of near-naked mermaids splashing around happily and chatting with younger visitors. At the far end he could see a happy-looking little girl sat in a pot ladling out the stew that surrounded her to waiting diners, while a girl turning on a spit looked to be nearly ready to serve. On the carvery counter were two carcasses that had been stripped of nearly all their meat and would soon need to be replaced.
“Here we are!” The young woman indicated a round table set for eight people. “My name’s Claire and I’ll be looking after you this evening. Get yourselves comfy here and take a look at the drinks menu while I go and check on your meat. I’ll be back in a few moments.”
Luckily, they were not left alone for too long so Pete didn’t have to engage in too much awkward small-talk. Claire returned and, after delivering a brief health and safety talk about the kitchen area they were about to enter, invited the party to follow her. Pete stuck to the back of the group so Freya might not notice him right away – he was looking forward to surprising her.
Just inside the swing-doors into the kitchen, Freya was waiting with another young woman dressed similarly to Claire but in a blue polo-shirt rather than red, the uniform of those who worked behind the scenes at the restaurant but were not chefs themselves. Freya, of course, stood in nothing but what she had been born with and an ear-to-ear grin.
“Mummy!” she called, seeing Cath at the front of the group. She hugged her mum and dad then her little cousins. She was about to greet her aunt and uncle when she noticed her mother’s friend. “Miss Jones! I didn’t know you were coming?”
“Your mum invited me,” the friendly teacher explained, “I hope that’s okay?”
“Of course!” Freya beamed back. Her eyes suddenly went wide as she saw the last member of the party. “PETE!” she yelped, running to him and jumping up into his arms. He held her with one hand on her firm, bare bottom and gave her a tight hug. Pete could feel himself hardening inside his trousers and wondered if Freya noticed too.
“I hope it’s okay for me to be here too?” he grinned, setting her down, “Only I heard there was some extra delicious meat being served here tonight and I just had to get a taste!”
“Do you really think I’ll be delicious?” Freya looked up at him nervously, her eyes wide and anxious.
“Well,” grinned Pete, “Let’s take a proper look at you!” He stood back to admire his young friend’s nude body. She was even more enchanting than he had imagined. Her mostly flat chest boasted just the beginnings of breast buds, her stomach was flat and her hips had a distinctly feminine curve. The smooth lips below her belly looked meaty and delectable. Freya raised her arms above her head, pulling her dark, bobbed hair away from her elfin face, and turned a full circle to let Pete admire every inch of her body. He saw that he legs were shapely and her bottom was plump and round. He imagined sticking a fork into it, watching the clear juices run out then cutting a slice of the tender meat. Blinking, he brought himself back into the moment. “I honestly think you’re going to be the most delicious meat I’ve ever tasted!” Freya beamed and blushed a little at the compliment from the man she do admired.
“So,” asked Claire, “are we ready for the tour?” Everyone, including Freya, nodded enthusiastically. “Jenny’s going to come with us to tell us about some of what we’ll be seeing.” Claire explained as the group set off. Most of what they saw could have been any large kitchen, with white-hatted chefs working on a variety of dishes, preparing steaks, grinding mince, etc.
“Oh!” Jenny, the girl in the blue polo-shirt, exclaimed, “It looks like we’re going to get a little extra bonus on our tour.” She pointed towards the back of the kitchen where two girls of around 9 or 10 years old were being led from a side-room by another blue-shirted worker. One girl was a fairly short blonde with little nubs on her chest while the other was taller, flat-chested and brunette. Both had trim but deliciously meaty-looking bodies.
“What’s going to happen?” asked Anna, Freya’s young cousin. Pete felt Freya slip her hand into his own. He smiled down at her happily.
“We’ve had a lot of orders from the main menu today,” Claire explained, “and we’re getting a little low on meat so these two girls are going to be butchered. Let’s go and watch.” She led the group to the slaughter area where the nervous-looking girls were stood waiting for the butcher.
“Are we allowed to talk to them?” Freya asked.
“Sure,” Claire explained, “just don’t interrupt or get in the way while the butcher is trying to work.”
“Hi,” Freya stepped forward, smiling, without releasing Pete’s hand, pulling him with her. “Are you excited about this?”
“Yeah!” the brunette girl grinned. “I love the thought of being chopped up and all those different people enjoying my meat!”
“I’m a bit disappointed – I wanted to go to the carvery.” the blonde explained with a shrug. “I was expecting to go in the oven but they really needed more meat so I said I didn’t mind.”
“I still don’t know how I’m going to be cooked.” Freya told them, “We’re going to choose after we’ve watched you. Just think,” she grinned, “you’re going to make so many different people happy with your meat! I wonder who’s going to get these?” she lightly pinched one of the blonde’s nipples between finger and thumb, imagining what it would be like to chew and eat then wondering about her own, hoping that Pete would have at least one of them.
“Sorry, girls.” A large but friendly-looking man in a stained apron interrupted their chat. “I need to get these two processed. I recommend you stand back there,” he pointed to a blue line on the floor several feet away, “this can get a little messy.”
Obediently, the group moved behind the line and waited excitedly to watch the butcher do his work. Freya smiled encouragingly at the girls and Pete couldn’t help but notice that she had begun to stimulate herself with her fingertips. He couldn’t blame her, surrounded by lovely, naked girls and knowing what he was about to witness, Pete was hard as a rock. If anyone else noticed either of their arousal, they did not say anything.
“Right then, who’s first?” asked the butcher. The blonde stepped forward.
“Let me go first,” she asked, “I don’t really want to watch.” The brunette did not object.
“No problem.” the butcher smiled, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Right Kerry, just pop up on here for me.” He helped her onto the marble block. Pete noticed that there was a drain quite close underneath, presumably for the blood. “Lay back, there’s a good girl. I’ll get this over with quick as I can.” He slid a wooden board under her neck. “Stops the cleaver from getting blunted on the marble.” he explained as much to the spectators as to the girl her was about to slaughter. He took a large cleaver off a rack on the wall and set it down close to her head. “Get comfy, part your legs just a little and close your eyes.” With practised aptitude, the butcher located the blonde girl’s clitoris and began to massage it with finger and thumb. “Gets her nice and relaxed,” he winked to the family, “and the hormones make the meat taste even better. Nearly there, I think.” Kerry’s face was reddening and her breath very fast and shallow. As she cried out in pleasure, the butcher took up the cleaver and, in one swift movement, brought it down across her slim neck, severing her head from her body and letting it roll onto the ground.
Pete had been so focussed on the girl about to be slaughtered he had not noticed the brunette pleasuring herself in anticipation of what was to come. Even cousin Anna, he noticed, had hitched up her dress and had her fingers down her distinctly damp underwear.
Wasting no time, the butcher swapped the cleaver for a long, sharp knife and slit Kerry’s belly open, heaving out her stomach and intestines and dumping them into a bin beside the counter. Using the same knife, he then expertly parted the carcass and hung the different cuts from hooks on the ceiling to be further cut as required, according to customer orders. He glanced over at the two girls in the family and smiled then deftly sliced off the prominent nipples from the two racks of ribs that now hung on sharp metal hooks. Pete couldn’t help being amazed how quickly a living, breathing little girl could be reduced to almost unidentifiable cuts of meat.
“Here,” the butcher held a nipple out to Freya, “I know you’re not supposed to eat anything just before you’re cooked but I won’t tell anyone if you won’t!” He winked conspiratorially. “One for you too, little miss!” He handed the other the Anna. “Chew them like a toffee, they’re really good!” The girls popped the unexpected treats into their mouths and the smiles on their faces showed that they agreed. “Don’t worry,” the butcher turned to the brunette who still had her fingers unashamedly between her legs, “you’ve got a few more minutes to enjoy yourself while I get this area hosed down, then it’s your turn!”
FREYA’S BIRTHDAY DINNER Pt2
“Well, that was an unexpected treat, eh?” Claire grinned after the second girl had been dispatched as efficiently as the first. “Now it’s time to go look at your choices!” Freya squeezed Pete’s hand a little tighter at this news. “Remember, we usually have more than one of everything so if it looks like the cooking method you want is being used, don’t worry – you can still pick it! This way!”
The party followed Claire through another area of the kitchen, much quieter than they had first seen. Jenny pointed out a few features to them along the way and soon they stood before the bank of appliances designed for cooking whole girls. The two rotisseries was occupied, one by a blonde girl of 12 or 13 with plum-sized breasts who seemed nearly done and the other by a pretty redhead around Freya’s age who was still squirming. There was nobody in the pots or ovens.
“What do you think?” Freya asked earnestly, looking up at Pete. “How should I be cooked?”
“I’m not sure,” smiled Pete, “maybe your mum and dad have some ideas?”
“It’s your party,” Cath reminded her daughter, “you can be cooked any way you like. I’m sure, whatever you choose, you will be delicious.”
“I think I’d like to go in the oven.” Freya decided after considering the matter for a few moments. “But I don’t like the idea of laying in a baking tray full of hot fat. Is there a different way, maybe?”
“I’m glad you asked!” Jenny grinned, “I’ve been looking at your body while we’ve been looking around and I think the roasting frame would be perfect for you! Are you fairly bendy?”
“Yes,” Freya replied, a little puzzled, “I do gymnastics. But what’s a roasting frame?”
“I’ll show you!” Jenny reached under the work surface and brought out a large metal frame that looked a little like a bike rack. “You kneel down on the counter,” the young woman explained, “this goes behind your back then you lean back over it. Your arms get fixed underneath and you go in the oven a little off the bottom. It’s a bit like a spit except it doesn’t go through you and doesn’t turn so it still counts as an oven roast. What do you think?”
“Sounds perfect!” Freya exclaimed happily.
“Fantastic!” Jenny clapped her hand together. “I’ll go and fetch one of the chefs, tell them you’ve made your choice.”
“Right then Freya,” Claire smiled, “time to say your goodbyes and I’ll take your friends and family back to the dining room then come back and officially hand you over to the chef. Next time these people see you it will be on their plates!”
Happily, Freya made another round of all the guests, making sure to hug everyone with especially tight ones for her mum and dad. She promised them all to be delicious and expressed hope that they really enjoyed their dinner. When she got back to Pete, however, she paused.
“Can Pete stay and help?” she asked Claire, taking her friend’s hand again. “I know he’s not a chef but I’d like him to join in with cooking me if he can?”
“There’s no rule against it,” Claire frowned a little, “although we do discourage close family from watching beyond this point as obviously it does involve some pain and discomfort for you and that can be quite distressing to watch.”
“It’s okay by me.” Pete assured the waitress. “If Freya wants me to stay then I’m happy to. If the rest of you don’t mind, that is?” He turned to the other guests, specifically Freya’s mum.
“Oh no,” Cath smiled, “I rather thought she might ask once she knew you were here. “Oh, just one thought?” she turned to Claire. “I understand since I signed the papers earlier, Freya isn’t technically a child any more, or even a person, legally speaking?”
“That’s right.” Clair nodded.
“So, if Pete wanted to give her a birthday present and maybe a last meal, so to speak, that would be allowed?” Freya bit her lip and Pete blushed, both understanding what Cath was suggesting.
“There’s pretty strict rules about what the staff are allowed to do,” Claire replied carefully, “but as Pete doesn’t actually work here that’s not really an issue.”
“Perfect! Just don’t actually stick anything bigger than a finger inside her, eh? Don’t want to spoil the meat! Have fun, you two!” Cath winked at Pete then leant down and gave her daughter a final kiss before following Claire and the rest of the group back to their table.
“The chef will be with you in about ten minutes.” Jenny returned, finding Freya and Pete waiting. “Are you staying to watch?”
“Pete’s going to help!” Freya informed her with a grin.
“If I can.” Pere smiled shyly. “I don’t want to be in the way.”
“Not at all!” Jenny assured him, “I’ll actually be doing a lot of the prep myself. The chef just has to check you over, make some notes and set the oven. He’ll be back with some stuffing for us to put in you but otherwise it’s just down to me so I’d be glad of the help.”
“Great!” Pete grinned, thinking of Cath’s last instructions. “While we wait, is there somewhere a little more private she and I could go? For a proper goodbye?” He blushed deeply but, thankfully, Jenny understood and did not tease him.
“Freya’s going to need a scrub and a shower soon,” Jenny explained, “the chef can just as easily see her there. Why don’t I take you two over there now then come back and wait for him here? You can pull the curtain across the cubical just don’t touch any of the controls and don’t do anything to spoil or tear the meat? Okay?” Pete smiled his agreement and Freya nodded enthusiastically. Jenny led them to the shower area. “Here you go.” she smiled. “Have fun and I’ll be back in about ten minutes.”
“Freya, I…” Pete began but the little girl reached up and put a finger to his lips.
“In ten minutes I’m going to be cooked, in an hour I’m going to be eaten. I want my last meal and don’t want to waste time!” Taking his silence as agreement, the nude little meat-girl unzipped Pete’s fly and pulled out his hard, throbbing member. It was bigger than she had expected, having never seen an erect penis before, but that only made it more exciting for her. She began by caressing the tip with her tongue then gradually taking it into her mouth, sucking and licking as if it were a meaty ice-lolly. Pete had already been so excited, it was less than a minute before he exploded in his friend’s mouth. She looked surprised for a second but swallowed down the warm creaminess and greedily sucked the last drops from him.
“Enjoy your last meal?” Pete asked before kissing her passionately and tasting his warm saltiness still in her mouth. “Mind if I treat myself to a little preview of dinner?” Freya leant against the back of the cubical as Pete knelt in front of her and explored her with his tongue. She moaned in pleasure as he sat up on his knees, kissed her again and inserted his finger gently, tenderly, into her lush, wet opening. He felt her body quiver from the power of the orgasm and she slumped against him, her arms around his neck. After kissing her once more, Pete heard a polite cough the other side of the curtain and pulled it back to find Jenny standing there with an unfamiliar man in a chef’s uniform.
“Sorry to interrupt your conversation,” Jenny winked, “but Chef just needs to do some last checks. Could you come out here for a moment please, Freya?” Slightly unsteady on her feet but with Pete’s help, Freya stepped out of the cubical and stood before the chef. He looked her over in a businesslike fashion, felt various parts of her body to assess the thickness of her meat and made some notes on his clipboard.
“All good to go!” he informed Jenny without even acknowledging Freya or Pete. “I’ll get some stuffing mixed up and sent over. I recommend the honey and pineapple glaze.” With that, he handed her the paper on which he had been making his notes which included oven settings and cooking times then turned and walked away.
“Well, this is it!” Jenny grinned at Freya, “Follow me back over to the ovens and we’ll get you cooking!”
The final part of today's story. When I get around to my next one, do you think it's best to add it to this thread or start a new thread for each complete story? As always, please do share your thoughts!
FREYA’S BIRTHDAY DINNER Pt3
“Oh wait,” Jenny paused, “I almost forgot. We have to get you cleaned first and that’s really not going to be nice. I’m very sorry.” She reached into the shower cubical and switched the shower onto its lowest setting. “Just stand under her for a moment and get all your skin wet,” she instructed, “then I’ll do the salt.”
“Could Pete do it?” Freya asked, hopefully.
“Not the salt scrub no, I’m sorry.” Jenny explained, “It has to be done very hard and I’m afraid it is going to be painful for you so it can’t be done by anyone with feelings for you. No offence.” She added, realising that her last words may have sounded rather cold.
“It’s okay,” Freya assured her, “you’re nice but you’re doing your job. Your job is to prepare meat and I’m the meat you have to prepare.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” insisted Jenny, “I take no pleasure from doing so but it’s what I have to do to make sure you taste as delicious as you can be.”
“I understand, really.” Freya smiled, “Do what you need to do.” Pete helped his little friend rinse off then stepped back to allow Jenny to do her work.
“Face the wall, please, feet shoulder-width apart and put your hands flat on the wall.”
“Are you going to search me?” Freya giggled, “I’m pretty sure I’m not hiding any weapons. I’m not sure where I’d put them!”
“Ready?” Jenny asked, chucking at the young girl’s joke. Freya nodded. At first the salt scrub did not feel too bad but, the longer and harder Jenny rubbed, the more it began to sting. Freya winced in pain gritted her teeth, feeling tears pricking her eyes. “Your back is done.” Jenny told her, “And I’m sorry but this next bit is the most painful thing you’re going to experience today, including being cooked. Can you take it or do you need to be restrained?”
“I don’t want you to tie me up.” Freya told her, “But I’m worried I might try to get away if it hurts as much as you say. Perhaps Pete could hold me instead? Would you do that?” She looked at him pleadingly with her big, dark eyes.
“If you really want me to,” he told her, “but I hate the idea of you being in pain and I’m worried you’ll blame me for not letting you get away if I hold you. I don’t want you going into the oven hating me!”
“I could never hate you.” Freya assured him, “And I’d rather have you hold me than be tied up or handcuffed like a criminal. I know I’m going to be secured in the oven but that’s different – that’s more like being strapped into a ride so I don’t fall off! Please,” she begged again, “I want to be delicious for you and if I have to go through this for that to happen then I’m happy to.” Pete bent down and gave her a tender kiss on the lips in place of the hug he dared not give her due the rawness of the skin on her back. He then stepped behind her, took hold of her wrists and held her arms above her head.
The girl’s cries and yelps of pain were heartbreaking for Pete as Jenny scrubbed Freya’s sensitive areas as vigorously as she had scrubbed her back, buttocks and legs. At one point she tried so hard to pull away from Jenny’s hands that he had to lift her, her arms held behind her back with one hand and his other arm around her knees. All the while he whispered to her how sorry he was and how much he loved her. In a mercifully short time, Jenny was done. Pete set the sobbing girl down on her unsteady feet and moved out of the so that Jenny could rinse off the salt with the shower now on its hottest and most powerful setting. When Pete helped Freya out of the shower and began to dry her off he saw that her skin was pink and glowing but not broken. She felt incredibly smooth and he had to resist the urge to kiss her all over her body, fearing that that may lead to another round of scrubbing being required.
“I have two bits of good news for you.” Jenny smiled, “That seriously was the worst thing you’re going to experience for the rest of your life and you actually dealt with it a lot better than some girls. Some scream the place down and some even pass out.” Freya smiled, accepting the compliment, “Second is that now comes one of the best bits and this is something Pete can definitely do for you!” She opened a fridge and took out a fairly large pot. “This is butter,” she explained, “ordinary soft butter. We rub it on all the girls before the actual sauce or baste – it helps your skin go nice and crispy without cracking too much or falling off. Here you are.” Jenny handed the pot to Pete, “Make sure you rub it right in and that you cover her whole body. Stick plenty in where you can too,” she winked, “I hear it really helps the flavour!”
As instructed by Jenny, Freya lay down on the work-surface, belly down. It felt a little like sunbathing in the garden except she hadn’t done that naked since she was a toddler. As she had hoped he might, Pete started the butter massage with her buttocks, then moving up her back to her shoulders and then her legs. It felt wonderfully soothing, the cool butter tingling against her salt-scrubbed skin. Pete worked his way up her inner thighs, pushing a liberal handful of butter between her legs then between her buttocks before massaging it as deeply into her scrubbed-clean rectum as his fingers would allow. He then told her to turn over and repeated the process on the front of her smooth, delicious-looking body. This time he started with her belly then up to her tiny breasts, making sure to give them particular attention and loving the happy moaning sounds she made as he did so. He then moved down to her vulva, rubbing plenty of butter into the tender meat before reaching down a little further and massaging the inside of her vagina with two butter-coated fingers. He felt her tighten as she experienced her second climax of the day and gently slid his fingers out.
“Time for the roasting frame!” Jenny grinned, “Perhaps you’d like to carry the meat? She looks like she might be a little unsteady on her feet?” Laughing, Pete agreed and followed Jenny, with Freya in his arms, back to the area with the large ovens.
By now, the girl in the first rotisserie had been taken away for serving and the redhead was starting to brown up nicely. He noticed that one of the ovens was now occupied by a slightly chubby young teen, an apple in her mouth and rump raised in the air, but the other was still empty. Reserved for Freya.
Just as Pete set Freya down on the table, another blue-shirted young woman came over followed by two girls, both blonde, one tall and slim with nicely developing little breast and the other much younger-looking. Pete estimated that they were around 13 and 9. Despite how used to naked young girls he was rapidly becoming, Pete could not help but admire their athletic bodies.
“Don’t worry,” the newcomer explained, “We won’t be in your way. I just need to get these sisters in the pot.” Pete noticed that the blondes also appeared to have been scrubbed but not buttered. He imagined it was to do with the different cooking method planned.
While Freya, Pete and Jenny watched, the blue-shirted woman pulled out a set of metal steps similar to those found in any kitchen and set them beside one of the large stew pots. The older girl climbed in first, holding the assistant’s hand for balance, then helped her little sister in before they both settled themselves comfortably in the pot.
“Okay girls,” the woman smiled, “I’m going to start this off on a low heat. In about half an hour I’ll be back to add vegetables then I’ll turn it up and get you properly cooked, okay?” The girls nodded and smiled. “Great! Enjoy yourselves. See you in about half an hour!”
“How are you going to be cooked?” The older girl asked Freya, once their assistant had gone.
“In the oven.” Freya grinned, “I’m glad you get to watch! Did you choose boiling or did someone order you?”
“Some group of old people chose us off the website.” The girl explained, “I think they’re a choir or a social group or something. My sister had dared me to sign up but I said I only would if she did too then when they saw sisters were listed, they ordered us both!”
“They’re having us stewed because some of them don’t have enough teeth for chewing!” the younger sister giggled. I’m quite happy anyway – I always liked the fairy tales where wicked witches try to cook children in their big pots and I was always a little sad when they got away and the poor witch or troll or giant had to go hungry!”
“Well you two don’t look like you’re going to try and run away any time soon!” Freya pointed out with a giggle.
“Nope!” replied the older sister, “We’re just going to sit her until we boil and hope our stew will be as tasty as the old people out there are looking forward to!”
“Well, good luck!” Freya grinned, “I’m sure you’ll be delicious!”
“Who has ordered you for their dinner?” the younger sister asked.
“Oh I’m here with my family – it’s my birthday and this is my present!” Freya told them proudly. “I’m my own birthday dinner! I’ve been wanting to come and be cooked here ever since I heard about it opening!”
“Oh nice!” exclaimed the little girl. “So is he your dad?” She pointed at Pete.
“Oh, no.” Freya blushed a little. “He’s my…” she paused, “He’s my boyfriend!”
“Lucky girl!” the older sister exclaimed. It was Pete’s turn to blush as she gave him a cheeky wink.
“Thanks!” Freya replied happily, proud rather than jealous at the other girl’s attention.
“Speaking of your birthday dinner,” Jenny cut in before the conversation could continue any further, “Isn’t it about time we got you in the oven?”
“I guess so!” Freya agreed excitedly. “Well, I guess I won’t be able to chat much after this, girls, so happy cooking and hope you’re delicious!”
“Same to you!” the older sister replied as both blew kisses to Freya, “And Happy Birthday!”
“Now, kneel on the counter for me.” Jenny instructed, taking a quick glance at the instructions on the frame, “And lean back as far as you can.” Freya arched her back in a move much like the bridge she had practiced in gym class. She felt the cold metal bars of the frame. “That’s it! Now put your hands behind your back, under the frame.” She checked the instructions again. “See if you can hold your feet. Great!” She took out two pairs of handcuffs like those used on the spit and secured them around Freya’s ankles and wrists, left ankle to left wrist and right ankle to right wrist. “Would you like to start the basting?” she asked, handing Pete a pot and a soft brush.
“This is a good pose for you, you know!” Pete winked at Freya, noticing that her glistening we girl parts were thrust towards him. She giggled as he coated every inch of her luscious body with the sweet-smelling glaze then dripped a little into her mouth so that she could taste it.
“Wow! That’s really yummy!” the little meat-girl exclaimed.
“Not as yummy as you’re going to be in about an hour!” Pete assured Freya, giving her a final, tender kiss on the lips. “Goodbye, sweetheart.” She smiled back at him as he helped Jenny lift the frame and secure her into the oven. Very quickly she lost consciousness from the heat but Pete could see that she was still breathing when Jenny pulled her out fifteen minutes later to give her another basting and wrap her hair in tin-foil. Pete stuck around a little longer, chatting to the girls in the pot who were still a long way from cooked, but eventually he saw his little friend give a final shudder and deep breath and knew that she was gone. After saying goodbye to the blonde sisters and wishing them success in their cooking, Pete went to find the others in the dining room and tell them that dinner would not be too much longer.
Freya was more delicious than anyone could have hoped and everyone had at least three helpings. Pete had five – six if you counted the nipples Cath insist he take as an appetiser! Her vulva, the first real cut served to him, was especially sweet and tender but, over-all, he felt that her rump steak had been his favourite cut.
As they were saying goodbye in the lobby some time later, Pete noticed Anna tugging on her mother’s sleeve, giving her an imploring look and muttering something Pete couldn’t here.
“You go ask him yourself,” her mother smiled encouragingly. “He doesn’t bite! Well,” she giggled, “not until you’re properly cooked anyway!”
The embarassed-looking little girl approached him and stood awkwardly twisting the hem of her dress. Pete knelt down to make it easier for her.
“I was wondering,” she bit her lip, “now that Freya’s gone, would you like to be my friend?”
“I’d love to!” Pete replied with a warm smile.
“And,” she faltered again, “will you come to my birthday dinner in February? I’m going to be nine!”
“Your birthday dinner?” Pete asked, having a fair idea he knew where this conversation was going, “Will it be delicious as Freya’s?”
“I hope so,” Anna replied, “It will be here. In February. Will you come?”
“Of course I will!” Pete grinned and hugged her. “And if it’s not until February, well, that gives us more than three months to get to know each other a whole lot better!”
SO. CUTE!!! My only thing, personal taste, maybe one with a 13-15? Regardless, this is quickly becoming one of my favorite threads
Thank you! So pleased you're enjoying my stories - I'll try to write something per your request for you today :D
Back to my comfort-zone of writing from the girls' perspective but with a slightly older protagonist, as requested! Pt2 to follow :)
ELLIE’S EXCLUSIVE DINING EXPERIENCE Pt1
Checking that her bedroom door was closed, Ellie flopped down onto her bed and pulled the flyer out of her school bag. They had been handed out following the lower-school assembly that morning and the girls were supposed to give them to their parents when they got home but Ellie wanted a closer look at it first. She wasn’t sure that her parents would approve and would have been devastated if they’d destroyed it before she even got the chance to check out the website. You could never tell, ‘though, perhaps it would be an idea they’d be really into? That, Ellie thought to herself, could come with its own set of problems. Picking up her iPad from her pillow where she had left it that morning, Ellie carefully unfolded the flyer and typed in the website address.
It was a fairly standard website – location, opening times, booking instructions etc. but soon Ellie found the links she was looking for. First was a gallery of professionally taken photographs showing not only the interior of the building but the kind of food that was served there. So, Ellie thought with excitement, it hadn’t been a joke or a hoax – Sidney’s Family Restaurant really did cook and serve young girls! She looked at pictures of smiling girls in strew pots, girls already cooked to a delicious golden brown on spits and in ovens and live girls being prepped follow them. All the girls were very pretty with attractively toned bodies and Ellie guessed they must have been carefully chosen for the publicity photographs. At the bottom of the page was a link to a popular social media site where visitors could share their own photographs.
There, Ellie found photos of happy families enjoying their food, posing next to the cooking girls and some very cute pictures of smaller children chatting to mermaids who seemed to be in some kind of rocky pool. She noticed that the young mermaids were all topless and it didn’t look as if the tails covered very much below the waist either. She thought about her own, apple-sized breasts and wondered how she would feel about having them on display. There were even some group photos of naked girls with their arms around each other’s shoulders like sports teams, waiting for their turn to cook, and a few of clothed families with one naked girl bearing enough resemblance to know she must be a family member. The more she looked, the more fascinated Ellie became.
The assembly had consisted of a talk from a nice woman around her parents’ age or perhaps just a little younger. She had explained about the restaurant she managed, its history and the very special kind of food served there. It was supposed to be part of a series of talks by local business people from various sectors to inspire the girls in their future career but, since it was a talk just to years 7-9, Ellie and some of her friends had suspected that the woman had hoped to recruit some meat for her menu while she was there.
Clicking back to the main website, Ellie read the story of Sidney Roebuck and her campaign to become meat. It matched pretty well what the lady in assembly had told them but with the added bonus of images of her campaign posters and a few short videos of TV appearances. Ellie was impressed by the young girl’s passion and determination and wondered if she’d felt fulfilled as her head was cut off, knowing that her meat was going to be prepared and served by some of the world’s finest chefs.
Just to see how far she could go without confirming anything, Ellie clicked on the booking tab. It was a fairly standard form asking for party size, requested time-slot etc. as well as a list of prices for the carvery, special offers, and a space to enter discount codes. But then she saw below it a link which read “Private Dining with Exclusive Meat” - this sounded intriguing! She clicked the link and read:
“Select a girl from our menu list and have her prepared just how you like exclusively for your party then enjoy your meal in our luxurious private dining room. Click here to view available girls and prices”
Clicking the link, Ellie found herself scrolling through what looked a little like a dating site. It featured photographs of smiling, naked girls cropped just below the chest next to basic text giving their name, age, the number of diners it was suggested they could feed and a price. At the top was a drop-down menu inviting the reader to arrange the listings by age, price or number of diners. Picking a profile at random, Ellie clicked on a picture of a black haired, flat-chested girl of 10 named Amelia. The full profile showed four full-length nude photographs – front, back, both sides, similar to Police mug-shots Ellie had seen on TV as well as a recent clothed photograph, taken outside and presumably provided by the girl or her family, and a short bio. There was also section where Amelia expressed a desire to be oven-roasted along with a caveat that diners were under no obligation to respect this request and a link to click for a list of available cooking methods. Ellie checked four more profiles of different girls, they all followed the same format with the only real difference being the price which seemed to be dictated by the size of the girl and the number of diners she could feed. Ellie started to become very excited.
A thought started pushing to the front of her mind. It had been there since the assembly, of course, but she had kept pushing it down. But now there was no denying it was there – what if she were to sell her meat to the restaurant? What would it be like to be cooked? How would she feel having people looking hungrily at her naked body? Would she want to know who was going to eat her or put her meat on the general menu? Would she rather be cooked alive or butchered like Sidney? She flipped onto her back, closed her eyes and began to imagine the different scenarios, hitching up her uniform skirt and sliding her fingers down her knickers, fingering herself to climax as she imagined her naked body being basted by a handsome chef while hungry families watched expectantly.
When she was done, feeling a little messy, Ellie checked the time and saw that there was still more than an hour before dinner so she had time for a shower. After locking the bathroom door, Ellie stripped off her school uniform and threw her socks damp underwear in the laundry hamper. Her shirt, tie, blazer, skirt and bra she lay over the empty drying rack in the corner, planning to take them back to her room after. She reached in and turned the shower on then, while she waited for the water to warm up, admired her body in the full-length mirror.
One of the oldest girls in her class, Ellie had turned 14 in September. She had long, dark-blonde hair with bleached highlights that she liked to wear loose. She was not especially tall but had a fairly athletic figure with just a little puppy fat left around her thighs and belly. She ran her hand from her naval up to her chest, gently stroking her left breast and enjoying the way her nipple reacted to the touch. While her breasts were not as big as some girls in her class she was far from the smallest either, plus they were perfectly shaped, firm and round. She cupped them both and gave them a gentle massage before turning and looking over her shoulder to admire her shapely rump. She turned to face the mirror directly again and stood with her arms by her sides, trying to imagine her picture on the website in the menu of girls. One thing was spoiling the image, ‘though. Like most girls her age she kept her bikini area trimmed and neat but still sported a tuft of dark hair that would be totally out of place on a meat girl. Taking her razor into the shower with her, Ellie freshened up in the hot water then, using hair conditioner to assist like her mother had shown her with her legs, shaved herself clean.
“There!” she thought to herself, checking out her reflection once more as she stood with the towel wrapped around her hair, “All ready for the oven! Or maybe the spit!”
Once dry, she slipped into her pink fleecy bath-robe, scooped up her clothes and returned to her bedroom where she changed into fresh underwear, jeans and a loose-fitting t-shirt. She did not bother with a bra. She rarely wore one outside school anyway, she had no real need of the support and rather liked the feel of the cloth brushing against her perky pink nipples. Feeling the tight fabric of her panties against her newly-shaved lips was a particular thrill. She had never had hair there until a couple of years ago, of course, but this felt different. The shaving left her skin feeling more tingly and responsive to the slightest touch.
Even if she was not yet sure she wanted to be meat, Ellie knew she just had to experience a meal at Sidney’s. The flyer had a coupon for 20% off if used during the week and, since her family had not yet eaten out that month and the prices for a normal meal from the carvery or general menu were no higher than most other family restaurants, she was fairly sure her parents would agree to take her. A thought occurred to her, just in case she were to decide she wanted to put herself on the menu, would she even be allowed? The publicity said they served girls aged 8-14 but did that mean up to 14 or inclusive? She had already turned 14 in September and really hoped she had not missed her chance. A quick search among the small-print on the website, however, confirmed that girls could be served any time up to the day before their 15th birthday. With a sigh of relief, despite not having quite made up her mind but happy to know she still had the option, Ellie tossed her iPad down on the bed, picked up the flyer and went downstairs for dinner.
“Oh yes,” Ellie’s mum commented, examining the flyer she’d been handed while they took a little break between main course and dessert. “I’ve heard of this place! One of the girls at work sold her daughter to them and they barbecued her at the front. She said they got a 10% off coupon as part of the deal so went along to watch her cook then tried some of her meat.” Ellie wondered if this was one of the families she had seen posting about their dinner on the social media page. “Very tasty, she said! Apparently her niece is thinking about it too. Are you asking if we’d let you do it?”
“I don’t know,” Ellie admitted, “not yet anyway. But I’m starting to think I might like to. I was hoping we could go and have dinner there tomorrow or Thursday so I can see what it’s like?”
“Sounds like a good idea to me,” her dad sipped his beer, “we could do with a night out! And if afterwards you decide that you want to be on somebody’s dinner plate, well then we can talk about it.” Ellie smiled and blushed a little as she thanked him.
“Now,” Ellie’s mum grinned, “Who’s for apple pie?”
thank you, I love it!!! I adore actual lolis, but tween boobies are adorable <3
Nearly done with Pt2 - today's been busier so far than I expected so really sorry if I don't finish the whole story today but I will try :)
haha, oh DON'T apologize. I have my own lit thread, and I'm really just impressed how much you've already generated! i'm in no hurry, and there's no obligations, it's all just fun <3
Oh awesome, I'll have to check that out! We do seem to have similar… tastes! lol
Here is Pt2, finally! As I said, I make no promises about when I'll get Pt3 done but I promise it will come! Enjoy!
ELLIE’S EXCLUSIVE DINING EXPERIENCE Pt2
Thursday took forever to come, that was how it seemed to Ellie anyway. It was hard work not bringing up the subject at school but she was worried that, if her friends knew what she was considering, they might make fun of her or even pressure her into going through with it if she ended up deciding not to.
Her parents’ rule said that her iPad had to go away at 9pm on a school night, in case it interfered with her sleep, but from the moment she got home to the moment it had to go in the drawer for the night, other than during dinner, Ellie was glued to it. She thought about taking it out again once she was sure her parents were asleep but, if caught, she risked that they might not take her to dinner and that was a risk she was not willing to take! She read every page of the Sidney’s website several times over, always excited when a new girl was added to the menu, and looked up every news report, review or social media post that she could. She even found links to the American chain which had been up and running for a few years but, for some reason, the fact that they girls in the photos had all lived so far away made them less exciting to her.
When she could no longer look at the pictures, she would close her eyes and pleasure herself, sometimes thinking of the photos she had seen but more often imagining herself being cooked in all the different ways on offer.
Eventually, Thursday came. School seemed to drag on forever but, eventually, it was home time. After showering and making sure her legs and everywhere else were shaved smooth, Ellie stood in front of her wardrobe, wrapped in a large towel, and pondered what to wear. It was a special occasion so she wanted to look nice but equally, it was not a posh establishment so she didn’t want to feel over-dressed. Eventually she settled on her red dress that she had worn for her birthday party. It was smart without being particularly formal and she really liked how she looked in it. She hung the dress on the handle of the wardrobe then pulled her curtains closed and dropped the towel. Since finding out about the restaurant she had been trying to spend more and more time naked, in the hope that she would not feel too awkward if and when she had to strip off for the menu photos, if that was what she decided, or for standing waiting her turn at the front of the restaurant. She sat at her dresser, applied simple makeup then blow-dried her hair and used her curling tongs to give the ends a little twist so that her blonde hair tumbled around her shoulders.
Eventually, she pulled a clean pair of simple, white underwear from her draw and slipped them on, relishing once more the soft tingle on her freshly-shaved skin. She pulled the dress over her head and let it fall, adjusting the shoulder straps and confirming in the mirror that a bra would spoil the lines and be unnecessary. She kept her jewellery simple – a silver necklace with a little heart on it and a matching bracelet. For shoes, she chose white sandals, with a slight heel, that matched her handbag. Feeling ready for her evening out, Ellie went downstairs to see if her parents were ready to go.
“Wow! That’s the quickest I’ve ever known you get ready – you starving or something?” Ellie’s dad teased as she came into the living room.
“Or something, I suspect!” her mum nudged her husband and shot him a look that was clearly a warning not to tease. Ellie was quite pleased to see that her parents had gone for a similar level of formality to her – not over the top but still looking like they’d made an effort. Even if they ended up over-dressed compared to the other diners, at least they would match each other. “Ready then?” She picked up her car-keys and, after a quick check to make sure the flyer with the 20% off coupon was still in her handbag, ushered her husband and daughter out the house.
There didn’t seem to be too many people waiting for a table when they arrived, in fact there was only one family ahead of them in the line at the front desk and very soon it was their turn to be seated.
“Table for three, please.” Ellie’s dad asked with a polite smile. “Oh, and we have a coupon.”
“Lovely.” The red-shirted hostess smiled warmly. “Could I take it please?” Ellie felt a pang of regret as she watched her mum hand over the flyer that had been instrumental in sparking her interest but she figured she would be able to pick up another one or something similar while she was there and, even if not, there was still the website!
“Mind if we take a photo with her before we go in?” Ellie’s mum asked the hostess, indicating the nude waxwork of Sidney Roebuck.
“Not at all,” the hostess smiled, “lots of people do! Would you like me to take it so you can all be in it?” Thanking her, Ellie’s dad handed over his phone, pointing out how to take a photo with it in the way all parents seem to think is necessary when handing their phone to a younger person. Ellie and her mum stood either side of the Sidney figure, Ellie’s arm around her waist and her mum’s around her shoulders, while her dad stood behind.
Once the phone had been handed back and Ellie’s mum confirmed her satisfaction with the photos, the hostess showed them through into the dining room. It was bigger than Ellie had imagined from the photos and she’d not really been able to get a sense of scale of the over-sized Sidney statue that slowly rotated on its plinth in the middle of the room. Two brightly-coloured mermaids waved to them as they came in before returning to their swimming and splashing games. Despite their tales and wigs, they somehow struck Ellie as more nude than the stark-naked meat girls. She supposed it was because the meat had to be naked for practical reasons and were technically classified as animals anyway while the mermaids were entertainers, wearing costumes designed to show off their bodies and intimate areas.
Ellie was desperate to run and look at the live cooking area by the carvery but knew she had to allow the hostess a chance to get them settled at their table and run through the usual formalities. Once they were seated, menus distributed and drinks order submitted, however, Ellie begged her parents to be allowed to go over and take a look. Chuckling at their daughter’s enthusiasm, they granted permission and Ellie was up out of her seat as if someone had stuck a pin in her bottom!
As she made her way through the tables to the front of the restaurant, Ellie noticed that fresh carcasses with only one or two portions cut from them lay on the carvery counter meaning that the girls cooking must have fairly recently been put on. Sure enough, the girl on the spit was still looking around and squirming in the heat and the girl in the glass-fronted oven looked pink but a long way from cooked. Ellie was slightly disappointed she had missed seeing the girls prepped but knew there were sure to be more before the evening was done.
“Hi.” Ellie turned away from the oven and saw the girl in the pot smiling at her. “Would you like some stew?” She held up a ladle filled with the lumpy, reddish-brown goop she appeared to be bathing in.
“We’ve not ordered yet,” Ellie explained, “but I think I am going to have the carvery, and your stew does smell really good! How long have you been in there?”
“Not long,” the girl replied, “only ten minutes or so. They let it cool down a bit between each new girl so we don’t die right away.”
“Right.” Ellie nodded, excited by how it felt to be chatting to a girl in the middle of cooking, a girl who could very soon be part of her dinner. She looked to be a year or so younger than Ellie, with similarly long blonde hair and a pretty but slender face in contrast to Ellie’s rounder features. She had the beginnings of breasts that looked as if they might have settled to a nice shape in a few more months had they been allowed. The girl was very slim generally, bordering on skinny, without looking unhealthy, and Ellie assumed that was why she’d been chosen for the pot. “How long do you think you’ll survive in there?”
“I’m not sure,” the girl admitted, “I think most girls last thirty or forty minutes, then the chefs pull you out and cut you up, that way the stew cooks more evenly.”
“That makes sense.” Ellie nodded. She knew all this, of course, having spent every free moment in the last two days doing little other than researching the cooking methods, but it was fun to talk about it with a girl who was actually experiencing it. “I’ll try and get some of your stew later, and watch the new girl being put in!”
“Thanks!” the girl grinned, “See you later!”
After taking one last look at the girls on the spit and in the oven, as well as the mouthwatering cooked girls on the counter, Ellie made her way back through the fairly sparsely occupied tables to her parents. Perhaps this was why they were giving out the coupons? Ellie thought.
“Decided what you want?” Ellie’s mum asked as her daughter slid back into her seat.
“I’m going to have the carvery.” she told them. “You get to try all the different types of meat and go for seconds if you want!”
“That sounds like a good plan to me.” Ellie’s dad nodded approvingly, closing his menu. “I’ll do the same.”
“It does sound good,” her mum agreed, “but I don’t think my appetite’s big enough to make it worth while.” She paused, studying the menu. “I think I’m going to go for the spaghetti and meat balls!” It was not long before a handsome young waiter came by with the drinks and asked if they were ready to order.
“Yes,” Ellie’s mum replied with a cheeky smile, “I’ll have the spaghetti and meat balls and these two are going to stuff their faces!”
“Ah!” the waiter grinned, catching on with the joke, “Two for the carvery then! Do you want me to wait with the plates until the spaghetti is ready?”
“No, bring them out now.” Ellie’s mum laughed, “I’m sure these two will still be eating long after I’m done anyway!” The waiter disappeared to submit the order but was back in moments with two plates and two bowls that he set in front of Ellie and her dad.
“You can go back as many times as you like,” he explained. “The server down there will serve the meat but you help yourself to vegetables. You can collect some stew if you want to at the same time but that usually ends up a lot to carry and most people take it as a starter so their main plate doesn’t go cold before they’re ready for it. But like I said, it’s up to you.” He gave them another smile, assuring Elie’s mum that her spaghetti would not be too long, and went to check on another table.
“That sounds like a good idea,” Ellie’s dad suggested, “have the stew first then go back for the roast? Shall we do that?”
“Yeah,” Ellie smiled, “Sounds good. The girl in the stew is really nice too – I’m sure you’ll be happy to meet her!”
Ellie’s dad stood and followed his daughter through the tables, which seemed to be filling up a little more now, both carrying their empty bowls.
“Hi!” Ellie greeted the stew girl, “Still here then?”
“Yup!” the blonde grinned, “It’s starting to get pretty hot ‘though, I don’t think I’m going to last much longer!”
“Well that’s good timing then!” Elie replied, “You get to pour our stew out for us but it has some of your flavouring in too! This is my dad, by the way.” Her dad gave a slightly embarrassed wave, not sure what exactly you were supposed to say to a naked young girl you were about to eat.
“Very good point!” the blonde agreed. “Nice to meet you.” She smiled at Ellie’s dad and ladled out bowls of stew for each of them. “Bon appetite!” she wished them with a broad grin.
“Thanks!” Ellie grinned back. “Enjoy the rest of your time in the pot!”
The spaghetti and meatballs had arrived by the time they returned to the table so all three happily tucked into their food. The stew was indeed very good with lots of flavour. Ellie felt her panties dampen thinking how the lumps of meat had been part of a girl like the one she spoke to not very much earlier.
“That didn’t take you long!” Ellie’s mum chuckled as she watched her daughter mop up the last of the stew with a torn slice of French bread.
“Looks like they’re about to start some new girls,” Ellie pointed towards the carvery, “and I want to go watch – is that okay? Then I can get meat from the freshly cooked girls too! Coming, Dad?”
“No, not just yet.” her dad replied with a chuckle. “I need to let that settle a bit first. You go have fun ‘though!”
Needing no further encouragement, Ellie took off, plate in hand, back to the live cooking area. Two girls were being prepped for the oven and spit while a third stood by the pot, looking a little nervously at her predecessor who now lay slumped backward, her head and one arm lolling over the side and her perky little breasts pointing towards the ceiling.
Being prepped for the spit was a tall, athletic looking girl of maybe 9 or 10 with long black hair. Her chest was flat but her legs were shapely and her buttocks so firm and round that Ellie felt like taking a bite out of them right then and there. Waiting for the oven was a similar aged blonde, slightly shorter than the spit girl but a little curvier with another amazing bottom. Ellie could not decide which one looked more delicious! Both had their long hair in pony-tails down their backs.. The girl waiting for the pot was the youngest of the three, only 8 or 9 Ellie thought, with short, light-brown hair and a body that was attractive enough to look at but not especially meaty. She stood back and watched the preparations, flicking her attention back and forth between the two girls and frustrated that it would not be a socially acceptable situation in which to slide her fingers down her pants. A few other curious diners gathered around to watch the process.
The first stage seemed to be the same for both girls. The brunette was being worked on by a young, black woman while the blonde was being seen to by a slightly older man who went about his work with a business-like detachment despite the physical intimacy. Both girls were stood on little platforms to make the work easier and cooperatively holding their hands above their heads while the assistants rubbed their delicious bodies with marinade and fixed their hair up in top-knots. Once they were properly coated, the girls were helped down off the platforms and the next stage began.
The oven girl’s hair was wrapped in tin foil to keep it from burning then a large platter was placed on the platform and she knelt down on it. She looked a little embarrassed and uncomfortable and stuffing mix was pumped into her rectum with a bag that reminded Ellie of the one her mum used for icing cakes but she bore it with dignity. Then she was told to clasp her hands behind her back and lay down, hands behind her back and lower legs tucked under. From this position, her vagina was easily accessible and was also pumped full, a process that she understandably seemed to enjoy a little more. The final touch was an apple in her mouth then she was ready for the oven.
In the mean time, a large metal frame was wheeled out and the brunette stood against it while her wrists and ankles were strapped on with easily-wipeable plastic straps. The assistant then made some adjustments, released a catch and lowered the top half of the frame, forcing the girl’s upper body forward leaving her spectacular rump sticking up a little and her vagina easily accessible. The assistant then took a long, sharp pole and inserted it into the girl’s tight opening, pushing it slowly and steadily through her body until the tip emerged through her mouth. She then continued to push until the girl’s delicious body was more or less in the middle. She then a slid a stabilizing spit followed by what looked like a pair of rigid handcuffs onto the lower part of the pole and tightened them enough that they would not fall off but not so tight that they could not be moved as needed. Standing to one side, she then raised the frame again so that the girl was standing upright with the pole running vertically through her and pointing to the ceiling. She slid the stabilizer up through the girl’s anus so she would not flop about on the spit and would turn with it. Once the restraints were undone, the girl shifted her feet closer to the pole so that her ankles could be strapped into the cuffs. A similar process was repeated with her wrists and then, with assistance from the older man, the black woman laid the spitted girl over the heat, adjusting the cuffs slightly so that her arms and legs were bent before locking them firmly into place before locking the mechanism into place and hitting the button that started the spit turning. By now, the blonde was in the oven and it was time to deal with the stew girl.
The older man heaved the dead girl out by the hair and flicked a switch killing the heat to the pot. There was a trolley waiting to take the body to the kitchen for chopping up – a process that Ellie supposed was not as fun to watch as the other prep and may put some patrons off their dinner. The little girl destined for the pot waiting a little impatiently, shifting her weight from foot to foot, as she waiting for the man to return from taking her predecessor to the service lift. He returned fairly soon and checked the temperature of the stew with a thermometer fitted on the side.
“Ready?” he asked the future stew girl, “It’s still a bit on the hot side but shouldn’t be too bad. I won’t switch the heat back on for another ten minutes or so.” The girl nodded enthusiastically and he picked her up and lowered her in without ceremony before handing her a clean ladle to begin serving the queue of hungry guests that had already started forming. Ellie decided she had better get in line for some of the fresh meat that had been moved to make way for the new girls. She had not yet reached the front of the queue when the older man returned with a bucket of meaty chunks that she knew must be what was left of the blonde she’d chatted with. The sight gave her a cold thrill, emphasising more than ever that girls served at Sidney’s really were nothing more than meat.
Once her plate was well loaded with meat from both cooked girls and a fair helping of potatoes and veg, Ellie returned to the table to find her parents deep in a discussion that they stopped abruptly when they saw her.
“You’d better go get in line if you want some,” she grinned at her dad, showing off her plate, “it’s pretty popular and you’ll be waiting ages if you have to wait for the next batch of girls to be ready!”
“Very good idea!” her dad chuckled, “I’d say I’m about ready for my main course now. Don’t you wait for me, ‘though – tuck in!” He ruffled her hair annoyingly as he left Ellie and her mother at the table. Ellie smoothed her hair and couldn’t help but be amused that her mum was barely half way through her own dish.
“So?” Ellie’s mum asked once she’d taken a couple of fork-fulls from the pile of food on her plate, “How’s the meat?”
“Delicious!” Ellie mumbled, her mouth still fairly full, “Really delicious! Best meat I’ve ever tasted!”
“Good,” her mum smiled, “I’m pleased.”
Four mouthful’s later, Ellie’s mind was made up. If she had the chance of being even half as delicious as the girls on her plate, to make people as happy as they were making her now, then there was no way she could resist the opportunity. She really hoped that her parents would understand and not stand in her way. Her only real regret, honestly, was that she would not be around to taste herself!
“So?” Ellie’s dad asked, returning to the table with his own impressively piled plate of food, “Did you talk about it yet?”
“Not yet.” her mum replied, “I thought I should wait for you to get back.”
“Talk about what?” Ellie asked, pausing her munching to take a sip of her cola.
“Your dad and I were talking while you were watching the girls,” she explained, slowly as if she was picking her words carefully, “and we decided that if you want to get cooked here, then that’s fine with us. If you don’t, then of course that’s fine too!”
“Oh wow THANK YOU!” Ellie cried, lunging across the table to hug first her mum and her dad, saved only by her dad’s quick reactions from sending her plate clattering onto the floor. “I do want to! I really do! But I was worried you’d say no!”
“We’ve always said we’d support whatever you wanted, sweetheart.” Ellie’s dad brushed her cheek with the back of his hand and tucked her hair behind her ear like he used to do when she was little. “And if this is what you want to do, then we’re one hundred percent behind you! Do you need some more time to think or…?”
“No!” Ellie cut him off. “I want to sign up as soon as possible! Now if I can! I know it might be a few weeks before they need me but the sooner I’m signed up, the sooner I can get cooked!”
“Have you thought about how you want to go?” he mum asked. “I think you get a bit of a choice.”
“I want to go on the menu for private parties.” Ellie informed them confidently, “I’ll be so proud when someone chooses my meat from all the other girls they could have picked!”
“Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out!” her dad chuckled, “Let’s see if there’s a form or something you can fill out now while we’re here. They might offer us a free dessert or something!”
Ellie busied herself with her dinner once more while her dad flagged down the waiter.
“Excuse me,” he asked when the young man came over, notepad in hand, “but my daughter her would like to sign up as meat.” Ellie looked up and grinned at him to show that her dad was telling the truth and not trying to pull an annoying dad-prank on either of them. “Is there a form or something she can fill in?”
“Of course!” The waiter replied, not looking especially surprised. “I’ll fetch one for you now. Do you need any more drinks while I’m here?” They all ordered refills and the waiter disappeared to fetch the form.
“Thank you so much, again!” Ellie gushed, “I’m so happy you’re being so supportive!”
The waiter returned with a glossy, six-page booklet describing the sign-up process and what a meat-girl could expect to experience during preparation. The back page was an application form.
“Have a read of this,” he explained, handing Ellie the booklet and a pen, “and fill in the form if you want to go ahead. I’ll go and check on your drinks.” Ellie thought the waiter gave her a slightly odd, questioning look before he walked away but she thought little of it. The excited teen set her plate aside temporarily and picked up the pen. She barely glanced at the booklet as she flicked through, it didn’t have have any more information than she’d gleaned for herself online, but it was a nice replacement for the leaflet with the flyer they’d had to surrender.
The form had the fairly standard questions she’d expected – name, age, approximate height and weight, any history of illness, boxes to tick for cooking preferences, that sort of thing. She was barely half way though filling it in, however, when she saw their waiter talking to the manager, the woman who had given the talk at her school, and pointing towards their table. Was there something wrong, she wondered?
The manager approached their table and greeted them with a warm, professional smile.
“Terribly sorry to interrupt your meals,” she apologised, “but I have something very important I’d like to discuss with you when you’re done. Please let Phil here know when you’re finished eating and he’ll show you to my office. Your meals tonight are on the house – order as many drinks, desserts or extras as you want. Don’t forget to give Phil your form when you’re done with it and I’ll see you after dinner! Bye for now.” With another smile, she turned and left. Ellie and her mother were a little dumbstruck by this turn of events but her dad seemed very happy at the prospect of a free meal.
“What do you think she wants to talk to us about?” Ellie’s mum asked, finally finishing her last meatball.
“I don’t know,” the increasingly excited teen replied, “But before we’re going to have to wait to find out – I’m just about ready for seconds! Coming with me this time, Dad?”
Here's Pt3 for your enjoyemnt - Pt4 is on its way! Probably going to be a little darker and more intense than what's come before but still very much in the same spirit and I hope you'll all enjoy it. Don't forget to comment on the story so far!
ELLIE’S EXCLUSIVE DINING EXPERIENCE Pt3
“Thank you for coming to see me.” Amy, the manager, smiled at Ellie and her parents as they settled into chairs in her office, “I hope you enjoyed your dinners?”
“Oh yes!” Ellie enthused, “Best I’ve ever had!”
“Yes, very good!” Her dad agreed and her mum nodded to show she concurred.
“Great! Now, first of all,” she directed her attention to Ellie, “I’m delighted that you want to sell us your meat. It’s always a great pleasure when a girl enjoys her meal here so much that she wants to become one for someone else. And that’s really why I asked you for this meeting.” She pulled Ellie’s completed application form on the desk towards her. Ellie felt a little confused but waited to hear what the manager was going to say. It was clear that this was not a normal part of the sign-up routine. “Now, I see from your form that you want to be listed on the exclusive menu? Normally, when a girl signs up for this we’d arrange for her to come in for some health and quality checks and, assuming those all go well, make the photographs we need and upload her profile to the site.” Ellie nodded her understanding.
“I don’t know how much you know about what else we offer here?” Amy asked, “Did you read any of the press reports when we opened?”
“I’ve read everything I could find online over the last couple of days.” Ellie answered truthfully.
“Then you know we have an extra level of exclusive service we offer? Where groups can hire a private room and have the girl or girls cooked in front of them?” Ellie nodded. “Well, we have just such a booking for Saturday. These are very wealthy people and, if they enjoy their experience and want to come back, could almost single-handedly keep us in business and help us expand. We’ll make as much from them on Saturday night as we make from the normal dining room in a month, so you understand how important it is that their meal is perfect?” Ellie nodded again. Her mum and dad leaned forward in their chairs, intrigued. “They want several girls but have left us to pick them.” Amy continued, “It’s important that they’re the best we can offer. The chefs have prepared a menu that’s sure to impress them but we’re missing one vital ingredient. A more mature girl for the main course. I don’t know if you noticed but most of our sign-ups lately have been twelve or under and the few older ones we have listed wouldn’t really meet the standard we want to present to these particular customers. We were on the verge of trying to talk one of our regular mermaids into it but we’d much rather have a volunteer and if you’d be up for it then it would be problem solved!”
“What’s the catch?” Ellie asked, realising that the manager would not have comped her whole family’s meal and called her into a special meeting just to see if she would mind being processed quicker than most new sign-ups. Her parents said nothing, satisfied that Ellie was asking all the right questions and, after all, it was her life and meat being discussed.
“The catch is this.” Amy replied frankly, not trying to hide the fact that there was, indeed, a “catch”. Her candidness reassured Ellie that she’d been about to come onto this point anyway and was not trying to pull the wool over her eyes. “These people are paying for entertainment as much as for the meal. The chefs have to make sure they put on a good show while they’re preparing the girls. It may be more humiliating than being prepared in our main kitchen, you will probably be kept alive for longer while you cook and it will almost certainly hurt more.” Ellie was silent, thinking over what she had just been told. “If you don’t want to do it, we’d still be delighted to offer you on our regular exclusive menu and your meals tonight would still be on the house as a thank you for hearing me out. If you do agree,” Amy continued, “we will pay premium price for your meat. Two and a half times what we would pay under normal circumstances.” Ellie noticed her dad’s eyes light up at this news and even her mum looked a little more enthusiastic, as if already pondering how to spend the unexpected windfall.
“Will they fuck me?” Ellie’s mum looked a little shocked at her young daughter’s bluntness but understood that this was the kind of conversation that called for bluntness and in which any misunderstanding could be disastrous.
“No,” Amy assured her, “only the chefs will be allowed to touch you in any way. Until you’re served, that is. And they will be bound by the usual rules in that regard.”
“Who are the people?” Ellie asked, trying to imagine how thrilling it would be to be essentially tortured to death for the entertainment of some faceless millionaires. The idea was exciting but would she actually be able to handle it? Would she die terrified and regretful or more aroused than she could possibly imagine? What would it be like watching the other girls, too? Would she be entertained or feel upstaged?
“They’re from Hollywood.” Amy informed her. “Producers and executives I think. I’m afraid I don’t know exactly. They booked through the studio. They’re likely linked to either the new Marvel or Star Wars movie. That’s about as much as I know, other than that there will be eight of them.”
“I’ll do it!” Ellie declared decisively. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was that had made up her mind but the idea of being wanted and her meat needed so badly to support the future of the business she had fallen in love with over the last few days made her feel very special and important. She was not going to be just one more meat-girl served to an office party or stag night. She could very well be the meat-girl who ensured the good fortune of the whole restaurant.
“You’re sure?” Amy asked, delighted.
“Positive!” Ellie grinned.
“Fantastic!” Amy breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Here’s my card in case you have any more questions.” She handed it to Ellie’s mum. “Otherwise, please be here by 4pm on Saturday. The dinner reservation is for 7 but we have some paperwork and preparation to do first. Will that be okay?”
“Oh yes!” Ellie nodded enthusiastically, her head spinning and full of imaginative ideas about what might be awaiting her and her fellow meat-girls. She could feel that her panties were damp and clammy and hoped that she was not leaving stains on her dress or the chair!
“I’ll bring her.” Ellie’s mum promised, “Is there any information I need to bring?”
“No, just your bank details for the payment and Ellie’s birth certificate, if you have it? It’s not too big a deal if not.”
“No, that should be fine.” Ellie’s mum assured her.
“Great!” Amy stood up and showed the excited girl and her parents to the door. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, try to have a nice day tomorrow and I’ll see you at 4pm on Saturday!”
As they walked back to the car, Ellie’s head was still spinning.
“Seeing as I’m getting cooked on Saturday,” she asked, “do I still have to go to school tomorrow?”
“No.” he dad chuckled. “Under the circumstances, I think it’s okay if you skip.” He gave her a wink. “Just this once, eh?”
Your productivity is astounding! The most recent story is promising, and I don't think you should be afraid to go darker. I know I would appreciate that, and I don't think I'm the only one here. There are certainly a lot of possibilities for darker stories. For example, cooking alive would be excruciatingly painful in real life. You don't have to make everything realistic, but you may experiment with how much pain the girls feel. Maybe some of them even regret their decision?
One other thing you might want to consider is the dilemma for the restaurant in the latest scenario. How long are they willing to stretch the rules when there is a lot of money at stake? It would be nice to have them take their liberties with the meat girls. So far the girls have all been very willing and eager, so maybe you could try putting them through things they don't like.
Thanks! I have a feeling you're going to enjoy Pt4 ;)
Sorry folks, I know I said Pt4 was supposed to be the end of this story but it took longer to get everything into place than I thought it would and, as I've been typing these on a fairly crappy old computer, I thought I'd better post what I've got so far and leave the final part for tomorrow. Enjoy and feel free to comment as always :)
ELLIE’S EXCLUSIVE DINING EXPERIENCE Pt4
Friday had been strange. What exactly were you supposed to do on your last full day of life? Ellie had spent the morning sorting out her belongings, keeping back only her iPad and a single change of clothes for now, as well as a few sentimental items her mum said she’d like to keep. Some of her clothes, jewellery and books she set aside for her parents to offer to various family members but most of it she bagged up for the charity shops. Once she was done, her mum had driven her to drop them off then they had gone to a local cafe they both liked for ice-cream sundaes and milkshakes. Encouraged by her mum to get whatever she liked, Ellie ordered the biggest, most elaborate sundae on the menu while her mum opted for something more modest and manageable. Ellie knew she wasn’t supposed to eat from Friday evening onwards so went up to take a bath while her parents shared frozen pizza.
Once in the bath, Ellie left the hot tap to trickle, trying to make the water as hot as she could bear, imagining that she was being boiled like the girl she has seen in the stew pot. How would she cope when she was actually being cooked? She really wasn’t sure. None of the girls she’d seen cooking had seemed to be in anything more than discomfort and most of them were quite young so she imagined it couldn’t really hurt all that much? Amy had warned her that her cooking was going to be more painful than that of a regular meat-girl in the kitchen but what did that mean? Banging your shin hurt more than banging your arm but neither were really that bad. She tried to think of the worst pain she had ever experienced but couldn’t remember anything especially unbearable. It seemed that, come Saturday night, she was going to endure a whole world of new experiences.
That night, Ellie slept naked in her bed having donated her night-shirts to the charity shop. For Saturday she had kept a plain t-shirt and pair of shorts. No bra or underwear as she didn’t want to leave pressure lines on her body. She knew that it would make no difference to the flavour of her meat but wanted to look her best for the customers who had spent so much on her. In the morning, she went showered and went downstairs naked to see if her parents were up yet. It felt silly to worry about things like modesty when, by the end of the day, she would be nothing more than partially digested food.
“That’s an interesting outfit,” her dad remarked, looking up from his paper, “is it new?”
“No,” Ellie played along with his teasing, “I’ve had it all my life! I just figured I don’t wear it often enough so thought I’d give it a bit of an airing!”
“Good idea!” her dad chuckled, shaking his head and returning his attention to his paper.
“Daddy?” she asked, a little timidly, “Do you think I’ll taste good?” Her dad folded his paper and set it down on the arm of the sofa then patted the space beside him, inviting Ellie to come sit by his side. She did so and cuddled into him as she had done so many times before when they enjoyed a film together or simply at the end of a long day. He put a comforting arm around her shoulders.
“Eating you is something that never occurred to me before this week,” Ellie’s dad explained gently, “but if you taste half as good as the girls we ate the other night, then those men are in for a real treat! And I know you’re not going to taste half as good anyway!”
“Oh?” Ellie looked up at him, a little confused.
“You’re going to taste twice as good at least! I know that and that manager lady knows that too. That’s why she was so keen to have you!”
“Thanks, Daddy.” Feeling like a little girl again, she snuggled closer to his and closed her eyes.
“Well,” Ellie’s mum walked in, smiling warmly as she saw the innocently intimate scene between father and daughter, “We’ve got a few hours before we have to drop you off. Is there anything particular you’d like to do?”
“Can we go and catch stickle-backs in the stream, like we used to when I was little?” Ellie asked, suddenly feeling very nostalgic for her early childhood.
“Of course.” Her mum smiled at her affectionately. “I’m sure we still have the nets in the shed. But,” she giggled, “I think you’d better put some clothes on first! Lots of little boys go fishing down at the stream we don’t want to cause a riot!”
The day passed happily but soon enough it was time to drive to the restaurant.
“Do you want me to come too?” Ellie’s dad asked, “Or are you happy for your mum to drop you off?”
“It’s okay if just Mum takes me.” Ellie confirmed. “I’m pretty sure she’s only going to be dropping me off there anyway. Once she signs me over to the restaurant, I belong to them! Goodbye, Daddy.” She gave him a big squeezing hug that he returned. “I love you!”
“I love you too, sweetheart.” He kissed her on the forehead. “Now, go be delicious!”
“I’m here to drop my daughter off.” Ellie’s mum explained at the front desk when they arrived. “She’s being cooked for a private party tonight? I know Amy’s expecting her.”
“Ah yes!” the hostess smiled, checking her clipboard. “Ellie Wiliams is it? Great!” She made a tick next to the name. “Go through there and get her undressed. Some others have just arrived too. I’ll let Amy know you’re here and she’ll be down shortly to sort out your paperwork.”
The mother and daughter went through the door indicated and found themselves in what looked like a swimming pool changing room, except there were no lockers. A woman was sat on a wooden bench, undressing a girl of about 10 by pulling her top over her head. Another girl, presumably the twin sister of the first, was stood already naked with her arm crossed across her chest, looking a little embarassed.
“Do you need my help?” Ellie’s mum teased.
“No,” Ellie giggled, “I think I can manage!” She kicked off her flip-flops and quickly removed her t-shirt and shorts that she handed to her mum. She ran her fingers through her hair and felt the cool breeze from the air conditioning against her naked skin. It was a strange feeling, realising that she was never ever going to wear clothes again! They both sat down next to the other woman who was now pulling down the girl’s denim shorts.
The twins were extremely lovely. With lithe, athletic bodies, dark blonde hair similar to Ellie’s but without the highlights and dazzling, electric blue eyes. Ellie couldn’t help but notice that they had deep, all-over tans with no lines. Clearly these girls were no strangers to nude sunbathing, or at least spent a fair amount of time under sun-lamps!
“Are these your daughters?” Ellie’s mum asked. The woman smiled and nodded. “They’re very beautiful!”
“Thank you!” The woman smiled, pulling down her daughter’s light-blue cotton panties, leaving her as naked as her sister. Now that they were both stripped, the girls ran off to the far corner together to chat and giggle. Ellie stayed with her mum, wanting to enjoy their last few minutes together. “They’re models.” The woman explained, “Or they were anyway! They do a lot of dancing too. Amy actually contacted me to buy them for the grand opening but the law didn’t get changed in time so she wasn’t able to have them cooked. Since she’d already paid, we agreed she’d let us know when they got their first premium booking.”
“And are the girls okay with being cooked?” Ellie asked.
“They weren’t too sure at first,” their mother admitted, “but we’ve come here to eat several times since and they’ve really come around to the idea. Their dad and I keep telling them that, with bodies like theirs, it would be a waste not to be cooked!”
“I can agree with that!” Ellie nodded, admiring the little girls’ athletic forms across the room. She was fairly sure that, even if their mother knew, these two had not been warned about what they might be in for being cooked for this special party. “Do you know how many more of us there are going to be?”
“Just one, I think.” the twin’s mum replied. “When Amy told me she’d found you she called you the last quarter of the menu, so I’m guessing that means there’ll be four of you.”
Just then, their question was answered as Amy came into the room accompanied by another woman and a pretty, pale red-haired girl of about 11. Her mass of frizzy curls reminded Ellie of Merida from the movie “Brave”.
“Sorry we’re a bit late,” the woman was apologising as they walked in, “I had to drop her brothers off at their swimming lesson and then the traffic was quite bad.”
“Don’t worry,” Amy smiled, glancing at her watch, “It’s only five past four now. Just get her out of her clothes and we can go get the paperwork finalised.” Ellie was curious what kind of body the new girl would have as it was hard to tell under her tom-boyish clothes so she watched with interest as the girl undressed.
She dropped her jeans and pulled her t-shirt over her head, revealing a matching turquoise bra and knickers. She was slim without being skinny, less toned than the twins, but had an appetisingly soft look. Unhooking her bra, she revealed very prominent pink nipple buds then slipped out of her underwear. The pale skin of her pubic mound was slightly reddened and Ellie guessed that, like herself, the redhead had recently shaved. If the twins were not still naturally bald, she thought, then they probably only had a tiny bit to remove and would probably keep their bodies regularly waxed anyway, since they were models. No catalogue was going to want to print pictures of preteen underwear or swimwear with pubic hair poking over the top after all!
“Right!” Amy smiled at the room when she saw that the newcomer was completely stripped. “shall we go, ladies?” After some final farewell hugs, the mums followed Amy out, taking the clothes with them and leaving the four naked girls together in the changing room.
“What happens now?” the redhead asked Ellie, assuming that, as the oldest, she might have a better idea of what was going on.”
“I’m honestly not sure.” Ellie admitted, “I guess we have to wait for instructions?”
cute cute cute!!! the father/daughter hug was just adorable. I'm so glad she had a nice final day…..although I am definitely curious about it getting darker, lol
Here is the final part of Ellie's story. I wrote it in fits and starts through the whole day so sorry if it seems a little disjointed! Please do let me know what you think! x
ELLIE’S EXCLUSIVE DINING EXPERIENCE Pt5
“Okay girls, if you could follow me though here please?” It was only a few moments after the mothers had been escorted out when a second door at the far end of the room opened and a tall man in the blue uniform of the kitchen assistants and other back-of-house team members who were not actual chefs called to the girls to come through. The room beyond the changing room was a small photographic studio – Ellie recognised the background from the photos of girls to pick from on the website. This must be where they were taken.
“Let me just check my notes are right.” The man consulted his clipboard. “I should have a Claire O’Donohue?” The red-haired girl put her hand up. “Great!” He ticked the paper. “Cara and Zoe Slinger?” The gorgeous young twin models gave him a wave. Although she knew she was a pretty girl herself, Ellie couldn’t help being a little jealous of their looks but, she reminded herself, all meat looked much the same once it was chewed and swallowed. A slightly juvenile thought popped into her mind and she put her hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle. “Are you okay?” the man asked, non-accusingly.
“Oh yes.” Ellie assured him. “I just had a silly thought, that’s all!”
“Oh?” he asked with a friendly smile that made it clear it would be fine to share the joke.
“Well,” Ellie smirked and blushed a little. “I was just thinking that, this time tomorrow, all four of us are going to be someone’s poo!” All the girls laughed, including the twins, and the man shook his head with a chuckle, relieved that the awkward atmosphere had been broken.
“Very true!” he nodded, “Can’t say I’d ever thought about it that way before but I’m sure you’ll all make absolutely delightful poo!” He checked his notes again. “You’re Ellie Williams?” She nodded. “Great! Now, usually we take photos of exclusive girls ahead of time for customers to pick from but obviously we don’t need to do that today as they let us pick you for them. We do want to give them a nice souvenir to take away ‘though so we’ll do the standard ones we normally do then I’ll change the background and we’ll have a bit of fun with some informal ones? How does that sound?” The girls all liked the sound of that, especially the twins who were well used to posing in front of a camera, although usually with at least a little more clothing.
Claire, the redhead went first for the formal photos. Standing obediently with her arms by her side and turning as requested so that her nude body could be photographed from all directions. The young man, who’s name turned out to be Glen, suggested the twins go together but move in opposite directions so, for one of their side-shots they were facing each other and for the other they were back to back. Ellie noticed that, although they were more or less identical, Zoe was just a little taller than Cara. Finally it was Ellie’s turn and she posed as she had seen so many other girls do and practised herself in the mirror.
“Lovely!” Glenn checked the photos on the laptop where they had instantly been sent. “Looks like we got everything we need! Right, let’s have a bit of fun.” He changed the background on the computer so that the girls would look as if they were now standing in a magical forest. As Ellie was still stood in front of the screen, she went first. For one picture she blew a kiss at the camera, for the next she piled her hair on top of her head and pouted seductively. Then she turned her back to the camera and looked over her shoulder, her arms wrapped around herself. Then, as she had been told to have fun, she faced the camera again, put her hands on her hips and stuck her tongue out childishly.
Claire was a little more camera-shy and stuck to more simple poses, waving at the camera and blowing a kiss as Ellie had done. At Glen’s insistence, she turned around to show off her shapely bottom, one hand on her hip and the other hanging by her side. The twins, of course, were naturals and ran through a number of poses from their modelling shoots, giving ample views of front and back. Finally, Glen suggested some group photos and the girls lined up, a twin on each end, with their arms around each other, followed by a cheeky one where they all stuck their backsides towards the camera and mimed the famous Coppertone shocked face then a few more random ones, including Charlie’s Angels-type poses and a few that Glen took while the girls were just chatting and giggling together, without them realising.
The photo session really worked as Glen had hoped. It was only in part to give the diners a souvenir. Its other purpose was giving the girls a chance to bond. He had been told what the chefs, flown in from America for the special event and used to hosting such events in their own branches, would likely have in mind for the meat-girls and he wanted them to go into that room as friends, to give each other the moral support they would need.
“We got some really lovely photos!” he told the girls, inviting them to huddle around the laptop and take a look. “I’ll email them out to your parents too. I’m sure they’d be pleased!” He stepped back and let the girls get a good look, getting a good look himself at the four young rumps in front of him, not sure whether they provoked more arousal or hunger. The views he got to enjoy on a regular basis were certainly one of the biggest perks of his job! Along with the free food, of course.
“Do you know how we’re going to be cooked yet?” Claire asked Glen. She spoke with a light southern Irish accent which gave her voice a slight musical quality. “I don’t really mind, but I’d like to know.”
“I’m sorry,” Glen gave her an apologetic smile, “I really don’t. The chefs from America brought their own team of assistants with them. All I’ve been told is to get you ready and take you into the room at a certain time. I know the private rooms are set up for pretty much any type of cooking and preparation so I really don’t know what they have in mind.”
“Is the equipment the same as the live cooking area?” Ellie asked.
“Some of it,” explained Glen, “but not all. From what I’ve seen, it’s all a little more theatrical. Some of the stuff in there looks quite medieval. In fact one of my friends commented it looks more like a dungeon than a kitchen!” Seeing the four nervous, slightly pale faces looking up at him, Glen realised that he may have said too much. “Don’t worry, ‘though.” He tried to reassure them, “It’s all first-class equipment and the chefs, I’m told, are some of the best so, however they cook you, it’s going to be an amazing experience!”
This information, coupled with what Amy had said about her cooking hurting more made Ellie quite nervous, but also excited. She could not deny the thrill she had felt watching the girls prepped in the live cooking are just a few days earlier and she hoped she would get to watch at least some of her new friends cooked before it was her turn.
“Time to head up to the kitchen for prep, I’d say.” Glen informed them, glancing at his watch. There were service stairs at the end of the studio which led up to the kitchen. Glen ushered the meat-girls up ahead of him, enjoying the view as the four delicious young bottoms wiggled their way up the stairs. The girls were met at the top by a young woman who introduced herself as Jenny. Glen joined them at the top of the stairs as Jenny explained that, ahead of their cooking, they all needed to be given a thorough cleaning which would involve a painful salt scrub. She explained that she would clean the twins while Glenn would deal with the older girls. Jenny led the two little smaller girls away while the others stayed with Glenn.
“Good luck!” Ellie called after them, “See you in a few minutes!”
“Is this going to hurt a lot?” Claire asked, timidly.
“I’m afraid so.” Glen frowned. He was about to follow this up with the normal reassurance he gave to meat girls that it was probably the most painful thing that she was going to experience so that everything that followed would not be so bad but, from what little he’d been told about what the American chef’s planned, he was wary of giving false assurances.
“I’ll go first, if you like?” Ellie volunteered, seeing how nervous her new friend was. “That way, you’ll know what to expect and, if it really is so painful, I can hold your hand and comfort you when it’s your turn?”
“Would you?” Claire asked. “I know we have to do whatever it takes to be made into delicious food and I don’t mind dying but I’m really nervous about the pain.”
“It’s okay, really.” Ellie hugged the red-head comfortingly. It was the first time she had hugged another girl while they were both naked, since she was a toddler at least, and she found she rather liked the way their bare breasts felt pressed against each other. “Come on,” she released her friend and turned to Glen, “let’s get this over with!”
“I usually start with the back,” Glen explained after he’d had Ellie step into the shower and rinsed her off to dampen her skin, “it’s less painful and eases you into it.”
“No,” Ellie asked him, “start with my front, get the more painful bit over first.”
“Well, if you’re sure?” Glen looked a little uncertain and he picked up a handful of salt. Claire watched with apprehensive fascination as Ellie braced her arms against the sides of the cubical and nodded to Glen that she was ready. Still wanting to ease her in a little, Glen knelt down and started with the pretty teen’s legs, rather enjoying his face being at eye-level with her smoothly-shaved vulva. Ellie gritted her teeth but did not cry out as he rubbed the salt into her skin. He moved up to her soft belly before taking a second handful and giving her breasts and vulva the same treatment. It was her breasts that hurt the most, Ellie discovered, especially when the salt was rubbed over her erect nipples. Despite the pain, she found the scrub between her legs almost enjoyable. Having endured that, the scrub on her back and buttocks did not seem so bad. The rinsing off with the scalding hot water was surprisingly soothing.
“It hurt,” Ellie admitted to Claire, stepping out of the cubical and trying to smile, “quite a lot actually, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be.”
“Your turn, ginger!” Glenn grinned and Claire giggled, stepping into the shower and letting the young man rinse her off. “Front or back first?”
“Can you come in with me?” the nervous girl turned to Ellie, “Is that allowed? I’d feel so much better if you were holding me.”
“As long as you keep your arms out of my way,” Glen pondered, “I don’t really see a problem.” Ellie stepped back into the shower and slipped behind Claire, once again finding the feeling of bare skin against bare skin to be quite thrilling.
“It did look like it hurt quite a lot?” Claire asked Ellie over her shoulder. “I want to get that bit over with but I think I’m going to need you to restrain me a bit. Can you do that?”
“Like this?” Ellie looped her arms around Claire’s and held them behind her back.
“Thank you.” Claire smiled thinly. “Okay,” she nodded at Glen, “I’m ready!” The younger girl clearly had a lower tolerance for pain than Ellie and cried out, pulling against Ellie’s arms, while Glen aggressively rubbed her down.
“It’s okay,” Ellie whispered to her, “I’ve got you. It will be over really soon, I promise!” Quickly enough, Glen finished her work and Ellie released Claire before turning her around and hugging her closely. The pretty 14yo had never felt a sexual interest in other girls before but Claire’s naked body pressed up against hers was almost driving her crazy. As Glen started on the younger girl’s back, Ellie released her from the hug, reached down and began to ease her fingers into Claire’s freshly-scrubbed pussy. When the red-haired girl did not object, Ellie guided her hand towards her own moist lips. The girls were having no much fun exploring and stimulating each other that Glen actually had to tap Claire on the shoulder to tell her he was finished and that it was time to rinse the salt off. Ellie gave her companion a passionate kiss before leaving her to be hosed down.
“Sorry to break up the party, you two!” Glen chuckled. “Normally, the next stage is I rub you down with butter to soothe your skin, but perhaps this time you’d like to do each other, so to speak?” It wasn’t strictly in line with protocol but Glen couldn’t see the harm in letting the girls have a little fun. He regretted that he would not be able to massage their supple young bodies himself but at least he should get a good show!
With a cheeky grin, Claire pointed out that, since Ellie had taken the salt scrub first, she should also get the first buttering. Ellie felt no desire to argue and lay down on her belly on the counter. Glen handed a tub of soft, cool butter to Claire and the ginger girl began to massage Ellie’s salt-scrubbed skin, paying particular attention to her shapely legs and perky buttocks.
“Right,” Claire giggled, “time to turn over!” Sighing contentedly, Ellie flipped onto her back and Claire resumed the massage, this time wasting no time and going straight for her breast. Ellie moaned in pleasure as the younger girl rubbed the cooling substance in, taking time to give her nipples special care, rubbing them between finger and thumb. As Ellie’s breath became faster, Claire moved her buttery hands down her friend’s belly and, taking a new scoop in her hand, ensured Ellie’s pussy was generously buttered inside and out. As the red-head repeatedly eased her fingers in an out Ellie cried out, experiencing a climax more intense than anything she’d ever been able to give herself! She sat up and gave Claire another passionate kiss.
“Your turn!” She teased, slapping Claire’s bottom. The girls swapped places and Claire laid down on her back. With one hand, Ellie eased the butter between her glistening lips and with the other she massaged first the girl’s small left breast, then her right. Less experienced at self-pleasure than Ellie, Claire experienced three orgasms before the perky-breasted teen was finished.
“Everyone ready?” Jenny asked, returning with the twins who were both glistening with butter and looking rather contented. Ellie assumed that she had made the post-salt rub-down a pleasurable experience for them. Seeing their tight, gleaming young bodies looking so appetising made her wish that she could give them a second coating but she knew there would not be time for that. The two older girls were sat beside each other on the counter. Until Jenny arrived Glen had left them to make out and explore how their buttery bodies felt against each other. “It’s time to hand you over to the chefs. I think the guest have just arrived.”
“Okay, this is where we have to leave you.” Glen explained to the four girls outside a large, black door that led to the exclusive private dining room. “Remember, you must not argue with the chefs, do exactly what they tell you and don’t forget to smile as much as you can. The people in here have paid for a good show as well as a meal so don’t forget to give them one! Oh,” he grinned, “and remember to be delicious!” With that, he opened the door and, with smiles and waves to Jenny and Glen, the four girls trooped inside.
Two white-aproned chefs were waiting for them inside along with four blue-shirted American assistants. Ellie took in her surroundings as quickly as she could. She could understand why someone had described the room as a dungeon. From one of the walls hung shackles. A marble butcher’s slap was set towards the front of the room with what looked like a flat steel griddle of the kind used by short-order cooks in American cafes set in front of it. Ellie also noticed that there were tracks on the floor allowing various pieces of equipment to be pulled into the centre of the room. From the ceiling hung various black metal apparatus and towards the back was a charcoal pit that glowed an eerie red. Ellie couldn’t help but wonder if she was going to end up over it in some way.
“Ladies!” One of the chefs greeted them in a broad California accent, “I’d like you to meet the gentlemen who are going to be dining on you tonight.” The girls lined up as indicated and faced the long table where the eight men who were looking forward to eating them sat. Ellie did not recognise most of them, as she had expected, but was shocked to see that, sat second from the right was Grant Sullivan, handsome star of the new Captain America reboot. Ellie realised she was going to be served not just to wealthy producers and executives but a famous actor too. This made it all the more exciting and for a moment she looked forward to bragging to her school friends on Monday before realising that that would not be possible.
The girls all smiled and waved to the men who smiled and waved back. The girls then found themselves led to the side wall where they were shackled by the wrists.
“Here,” one of the assistants spoke softly to Claire, “swallow these!” He shoved two pills in her mouth then gave her a swig from a bottle of water to wash them down. Chained next to her friend, Ellie waited to be offered some but was not. The head chef appeared to be giving some kind of introductory speech to the diners.
“What are they?” Claire asked, “Pain killers?”
“No, a muscle relaxant.” The assistant explained with what almost looked like a smirk. “You’ll be able to feel everything but won’t be able to move below the neck.” Claire’s eyes went wide with panic, already feeling a tingling sensation spreading through her body.
“What are you going to do to her?” Ellie asked, alarmed, fearing for what her friend was about to be subjected to.
“That’s none of your business is it, huh?” The assistant leaned close into her face. “You’re not going to be any trouble, are you?”
“No, sir.” Ellie replied meekly. It was clear that this was going to be a very different experience from what most of the meat at Sidney’s experienced and the American assistants were nowhere near as kind as Glen and Jenny.
The head chef finished his welcome speech and gave a signal to one of the assistants. Ellie watched silently as the man unshackled Claire and carried her limp body over to the marble slab. Claire looked frantically from side to side.
“Stop!” the redhead cried out. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to do this!”
“Too late.” The head chef replied, frowning in irritation. “These nice people are waiting for some meat and you and I are going to give it to them.” He gave another signal to the assistant. “So sorry about this, gentlemen. I promise you the rest of the meat will be more cooperative!”
“You’d better be!” Another assistant growled under his breath to the three shackled girls. “Or I guarantee you’ll regret it!”
The waiting diners chuckled as the assistant who had carried Claire to the butcher’s slab pulled out a ball-gag with a long strap that he fitted in such a way that, not only did it muffle Claire’s terrified screams but held her head down onto the cold marble. Ellie wanted to look away but was also fascinated by what was about to happen to her friend and felt that, in a way, if she were to keep watching it would provide a level of comfort to the sweet girl.
“Now,” the chef began, pulling out and brandishing a long, razor-sharp knife, “an experienced butcher can kill a girl and part out all her usable meat within five minutes but might it,” he asked, “be possible to perform the same process while the girl is still alive? Inspired by the Japanese sushimi chefs and after practising on many carcasses, I believe I can flay this pretty little girl her of all her meat before her heart stops beating. Who would like to see that?” The men applauded encouragingly. Claire’s eyes were wide with horror and she struggled against the gag although the rest of her luscious young body was paralysed. Ellie watched with a mix of horror, admiration and a certain degree of arousal at the chef began his demonstration.
With deft, practiced moves, the chef used the knife to cut ring around first Claire’s left arm then her right, followed by a long cut along the underside. He pulled the meat free and tossed it onto the hotplate where it began to sizzle. As Claire screamed and cried through the gag, tears streaming down her face, the chef lifted her feet high and proceeded to remove her buttocks then slice the meat from her back. A moment later he performed a similar series of moves on her legs as he had done on her arms then removed her juicy-looking vulva in a single piece. After slicing open her belly, heaving out her guts which he dumped into a bin by his feet then removing the flaps of belly bacon, slid the knife under her chest, broke her ribcage and tore off the two racks of ribs then, with a quick flick of the knife, he removed her heart. As he held it up to show the diners, it was still beating. After two or three final beats it ceased to move and he tossed it down onto the hotplate with the rest of the meat. The diners cheered and applauded as the chef took a bow and stepped back, allowing the assistants to step forward and slice Claire’s meat into smaller pieces as it lay on the griddle. Claire was reduced to nothing more than a skeleton with hands and feet, topped with a pretty head. Ellie felt her own tears running down her cheeks as the assistants finished their worked and wheeled the butcher’s slab away along one of the tracks set into the floor.
Despite her horror at what she had just witnessed, Ellie could not deny that Claire’s cooking meat smelled absolutely delicious. This was, after all, what they had all agreed to and she couldn’t help but wonder what they had in mind for her. Since the red-head’s meat was sliced into quite small pieces, it cooked very quickly and soon the diners were happily tucking in, washing the meat down with beers and chilled champagne. In preparation for the next course, two pots were rolled forward. One seemed to contain a dark red liquid and other a yellowish, viscous substance. The assistants locked the pots into place and flicked switches which caused the liquid inside to begin to heat up. Soon, both were bubbling.
A short while later, the twins were released from their shackles and led to the front of the room, in front of the pots.
“Gentlemen,” the head chef announced, “we have some very special meat for you next. Cara and Zoe Slinger, two of Britain’s most successful young models. Girls,” he turned to them, “why don’t you give these gentlemen a good look at their next course?” Although they were as traumatised as Ellie by what they had seen done to Claire, the girls were professionals. With fixed smiles in places, the two naked 10yos, still gleaming with butter, struck a number of poses showing off their delicious meat. “Tonight,” the chef continued, “thanks to these lovely young ladies you will be dining on three-times dunked lobster in red wine sauce and delicious deep-fried chick.” He winked at the diners, knowingly employing the ambiguity of American slang. The girls looked a little nervous but did not drop their smiles, waiting for their instructions. “Zoe,” the chef turned to the girl, “step forward please.”
The young model did as she was told and allowed the chef to point out the most appealing parts of her body. As her sister watched, two of the assistants coated Zoe’s body in beaten egg-yolks then the chef produced a batter from a fridge off to the side and spread it over all of her body, apart from her pretty face.
“In a few moments, once the batter has set a little,” the chef explained, “my assistants will apply another coat. In the mean time, it is time to cook the lobster.” Cara looked apprehensive as the other two assistants brought forward a large silver platter which they laid before the diners and the second chef covered it with a bed of lettuce. One of the assistants, a burly man with close-cropped hair, pulled on a thick pair of gloves that reached up to his elbows. They reminded Ellie, who continued to watch in fascinated horror from her shackled position, of the gloves people on TV wore to handle radioactive material. At a signal from the chef, the gloved assistant picked Cara up under her armpits and held her above the pot of bubbling red liquid. Although her eyes showed her fear, the little girl continued to smile and even waved at the eagerly-waiting diners.
Without warning, the assistant plunged the girl down into the boiling liquid up to her shoulders. She screamed in pain as he held her in for around ten seconds. He then pulled her out, the heat and the red wine sauce having turned her skin a dark pink. He held her aloft for only around five second before plunging her in again. This time she tried to pull her feet up but it was no use, she was in the boiling liquid again, this time for closer to twenty seconds. Just before it looked as if she was about to pass out, the assistant puller her out again. This time, he shifted one arm across her flat chest and gripped her braided hair with his other. He plunged her in a final time, drowning her tortured scream as he pushed her head under the surface, holding her down for almost a whole minute. As they watched, Ellie felt both horrified and aroused while Zoe was overcome with a desire to experience the same pain as her sister. When the gloved assistant pulled Cara out again she was very much dead and stained a dark red. Her carried her carefully and laid her on the platter.
“Now, while you enjoy your lobster,” the head chef proclaimed, “it’s time to get this cute little chick deep-frying. Careful, young lady!” the chef cautioned, seeing that Zoe had begun to finger herself through the batter in anticipation of what was to come, “You don’t want to mess up the batter!” The diners chuckled and one of the assistants brought forward what looked like a metallic draw-string bag. “This will help preserve your pretty face while you cook.” The head chef explained, sliding the bag over Zoe’s head and tightening it around her neck. Another assistant then stepped forward and piked Zoe up. As instructed, she pulled her knees up to her chest and gripped her ankles. The secondary chef then tied her ankles and wrists together. With encouragement from the head chef, the diners counted down from three and, on the final beat, Zoe’s was dropped into the boiling oil of the second pot and left to deep fry. Her screams lasted no longer than three seconds. As the diners began to tuck in to the flash-boiled Cara, Ellie knew that it was her turn next.
Once the lobster and deep-fried Zoe had been consumed, Ellie was released from her shackles and guided to stand before the diners. She tried her best to smile as instructed but was having a hard time focussing. She had moved beyond fear to a kind of terrified but anticipatory fascination with how she would be cooked. She noticed that, although the lobster pot had been removed, the pot with the boiling oil was still in place. Was she going to be deep-fried too? She wondered. Surely they would be more creative than to repeat the same method and, she noted, the charcoal pit had yet to to be made use of. She also noticed that the marble counter-top had been returned to its place, although not the hot-plate.
“Now we come to our main course!” The chef announced, “Traditional spit-roasted long pig.” Ellie felt a small sense of relief. At least she now knew how she was to be cooked. “But first,” the chef continued, “I feel a pallet-cleanser is in order. Sweet pork dumplings.” Two bowls were brought forward by the assistants and placed on the marble work surface. Ellie noticed that one contained dried fruit and the other brown sugar. Two sheets of tin foil also sat on the work-top.
At a signal from the chef, one of the assistants stepped forward, grabbed Ellie’s arms and pulled them behind her back, thrusting her small, round breasts forward. The head chef took the knife he had used to butcher Claire and sliced the apple-sized orbs from Ellie’s chest. The teen gasped but did not scream as the chef scored both breasts deeply twice either side of the nipple, stuffed the cuts with fruits and brown sugar then wrapped them separately in the foil. Ellie watched in fascination as he took two pairs on tongs, gripped the wrapped breasts and plunged them into the boiling oil, holding them there for around one minute before removing and unwrapping them then serving a quarter to each of the eight diners. Despite the pain in her chest Ellie felt proud and a distinct tingling between her legs while she watched the handsome actor and his associates devour what had until very recently been her breast.
Once the diners were done with their pallet-cleanser, Ellie was led forward and forced to lean forward over the marble counter. It felt strange to be flat-chested again for the first time in three years, feeling the cold marble sting against the wounds on her chest.
“Please enjoy me!” She managed to speak, despite the pain, fear and anticipation causing her head to spin. “I really hope I’m delicious for you!”
“I’m sure you will be!” The head chef assured her as two of the assistants lifted down the black metal spit from the mount hanging from the ceiling. Ellie was offered no lubrication other than her own arousal as the slightly-too-blunt pole was forced up through her vagina and into her abdomen. One assistant held her hands down and the other continued to push the pole until it emerged through her mouth.
With her hands and wrists tied to the pole with waxed rope, Ellie felt herself being mounted over the charcoal and begin to turn. The heat against her skin felt so intense. Was this what the girls cooked for the carvery experienced, she wondered, or was it due to the cooking method. Feeling that her feet were fairly securely fixed in place, Ellie found that she could move her body on the spit, back and forth a few inches rubbing the increasingly hot metal against her clitoris. With an ultimate climax of pain and pleasure, Ellie gave her last breath. Half an hour later her delicious meat was carved and served to the delighted diners who were all in agreement that her meat was the most delicious they had ever tasted.
I'm worried people are being put off by the first story and reading any further. Now that I've got three complete stories, do you think I should repost each one in its own thread?
They're all cute cooking stories, so logically they belong together. And they're fairly short. I did read the first one, and it's very well written, but TBH it's really not my thing.
If it was me, I'd leave them in one thread, so people can comment on them as a whole (like I'm doing now).
And if you re-post them, are you going to delete this thread and lose your comments, or have them separated in different threads? Personally I would say keeping it all together seems preferable.
If they were full length stories or on different topics, then, yeah, put them in different threads.
Thanks for your feedback :) Aside from the first one, the stories are all 6-10k words when combined so not all that short but I do agree they're all on the same theme so should stay together. I have another story I'm thinking of writing that doesn't quite fit in this "universe" so I'd probably post that one on its own. Even if the first one is not to your taste, please at least dip into the others - personally I feel they improve as I go on :)
I did scan through the others, but no, not my sort of thing at all. I don't find the whole cooking thing remotely erotic. I'm more into visceral screams, rivers of gore, and horrific depictions of brutal realism. Your characters should feel very lucky that they're in one of your stories, and not mine!
Haha! That would be an interesting premise! A bunch of fictional characters realising they're characters in a Gurochan story and trying to work out the author and thereby determine the "rules" of the universe amd just how much trouble they were in!
You sir, are a genius! That could be a very amusing crossover, if anyone wants to write about it. It's food for thought anyway, maybe I'll consider doing a short along those lines myself…
I don't know how many people read both of our work, but I can see that it's a least one. Maybe there are some other universes here that would fit well with that conceit.
I must admit, I don't really read much here, because most of it doesn't satisfy my kinks, so I don't have much to draw on in this regard. But maybe others have some good suggestions.
I wouldn't mind writing about some poor soul, who thought they were a character in one universe (say consensual and kind snuffing for meat in a high class restaurant), only to find themselves in Bob and Emma's dungeon.
I know what you mean. There's one story collectiom on ASSTR, at least ten years old, that tick my boxes but otherwise there's not all that much out there so I make up my own. I do enjoy Splyf's Trine and Christina stories 'though, just wish they were a little younger ;)
That's exactly why I started writing my own story too…
Here's some stuff that I've enjoyed recently.
Babehunt VIII (don't know the author, or if that's the proper title, someone emailed it to me.)
The works of Salem Burns on DeviantArt (Great, imaginative and gory works of erotic horror.)
Dino Massacre, by The Dinosaur Handler (Also on DA)
Dolcett Girls by Tsade.
I'm sure there's others, but I can't bring them to mind right now.
That was wonderful!! the butter massage was too cute. a bunch of people have tried something like that, but you did it better.
also that got really dark. that is absolutely not a criticism. I like cruelty sprinkled in with my cuteness, and it's nice to see that they aren't just all totally brainwashed to be down for unlimited use.
you have gotten a lot more posts on your work than I have, so I wouldn't delete this thread. what you might do when you have a section of your next story ready to post is create a new thread for all of your work and just link to this thread in the first post. just a thought.
that 'oh no, we're in a gurochan story' premise is hilarious, I might have to try that as well!
I'm not sure if you would have any interest in rp/private chatting, but I would love to if you would be down. no pressure, either way I can't wait to see what you come up with next! <3
Hi Ellen, so glad you liked it! I hadn't intended a romantic subplot - it just sort of emerged! I often find the characters guide the story.
Did you enjoy the final fate of Ellie's boobies? I felt they deserved their own send-off! lol
I'd love to chat if that's possible - there's been little bits of background info to the stories and related annecdotes that I've wanted to tell you but not wanted to post publically. I was annoyed GV doesn't seem to have a private message function… :/
I my write some more today if I get time. I'll certainly try to put down the stand-alone short story I was amusing myself in the shower with last week! Doesn't really fit within the rules of the "Sidney's" universe but similar tone :)
I can't wait to see it!
Debreasting isn't my thing really, but I did love that they got special attention. the bit about her being flat chested for the first time in years made me giggle :)
I totally get it about the characters driving the story in new ways. the one I have been posting was originally meant to be a 2 part story, now it's going to be 4-5 with a bunch of elements that were not on my radar until I explored the character.
I'm not sure what chat might work best, but I'm firstname.lastname@example.org (Harem Hellraiser) on Skype, the same address for just email, and Harem Ellen on Reddit :) <3
Glad you enjoyed that line - it amused me too! Just posted the other story. It's a silly, cute one but I think you'll like it :)
Oh and I will be in touch - just got to work out the best/safest way :)
Could you possibly have a story where a family is punishing their sixteen-year-old daughter for getting pregnant and having her cooked for them in a private room and far enough along in her pregnancy to be able to notice it
The punishment angle isn't really my style (and the girl would have to be less than 15 anyway!) but a story with a pregnant girl could work!
Awesome also could you possibly have there be a niche market pop up at where young girls heads are taxidermied after they are finished with at Sydney's
Here's an idea girl haggis encased in a girl's internal reproductive orgin rather than her stomach
The idea of a gift shop with souvenirs including taxidermied heads is something I've thought about exploring :D The haggis idea sounds fun!
You could also look up other recipes that call for the use of internal organs such as chitlins
I have an idea for a story that you can use to incorporate taxidermying into your stories.
Have a story where a young couple in their early teens are on a date at Sydney's (girl 13yo / boy 14.5) and they recognize the girl in the stew pot at the carvery as the boy's ex-girlfriend (also 13yo) and one or both of them ask what they do with the heads and if they can take her's home with them witch causes the person working the carvery to call Amy over she then asks them why they want the girl's head they then tell Amy they're going to have it taxidermyed Amy agrees and thinks it a really good idea and the couple has some fun fun with the head in bed before they take it to be taxidermyed
Ooh thanks - check out "Girl Meat Expo 2080" as it includes the idea of mounting heads :)
I've thought of a way to work it into Chloe's story for you - just need to finish what I'm working on at the moment then hope the creative energies do not abandon me!
Your stories have great build up and world building but the ends never seem to have much pay off. Just a "and then they died the end", rather than details about their fate, cooking, disposal, etc.
You have a point and it's something that struck me while writing but I think that for me it's all about the prep and anticipation of being cooked etc. Once they're dead, there seems little more to say.
I don't know if you read "Emily & Chloe's Summer BBQ"? That's probably the one with the most detail at the end as I had more characters to play with :)
That’s the main reason why Summer BBQ is your most memorable story.
>but I think that for me it's all
>about the prep and anticipation of
>being cooked et…
You're right. The preparations are more interesting.
(e.g. Sophie is photographed on the altar where she will be sacrified or Natasha helps assemble the machine that will cut her head off…)
People are always going to enjoy different thinging in their fantasty fiction which is why forums like this are so great - so many different styles and voices, there's sure to be something for everyone! I write the kinds of stories that I enjoy reading (with the occasional accomdation for ideas people have requested) :)
I just finished those stories and they look great.
I also agree that once a girl is dead there is nothing interesting left, but maybe it could be made interesting if you have more than one girl being cooked so that preparations start while her friend is still being cooked.
that way it will be as if the dead girl still can fell and talk because she is kinda voiced by the observing girl.
Some criticism is that your storyline is a bit too similar, but in the last story, you dit it really good.
since you are not going to bother with the cooking process anyway, you could even do some story twist and abort the process right in the end maybe postponing cooking later. It would be funny to see what happens to a girl who is prepared to be cooked but there is an oven failure so she is sent back home LOL. or maybe there is a mistake in the selection.
maybe girls could rather cook each other instead of being cooked by chefs.
but I guess I have to read your other stories at first because maybe you already did all that
Hi :-) Glad you enjoyed them so far. Yes I branched out from this thread as it was getting a little "samey" - some of my others go a slightly different path. Having other girls die along the way was something I tried to play with in Ellie's story. The ending is a little abrupt because it was late at night, it was dragging for me and I just wanted to get it finished! lol. Not done any where the girls cook each other yet although it's an idea I've been kicking around for a while :) Check out my other threads and see if they hit the spot for you.
PS - your twist idea sounds fun! I may have to play with that!
Back to where it all started - new Sidney's story coming soon (Sequel to "Emily & Chloe's Summer BBQ") because I need to spend a little time back in my comfort zone after "Easter Snuff-Bunny" lol
First part of a more typical story for me, written mostly for my own fun :)
CAREFULLY COOKING CHLOE Pt1
The Miller family pulled up outside the most recently opened branch of Sidney’s Family Restaurant. It was smaller than the flagship branch, of course, but still offered all the same facilities with a few little tweaks and extras that had been decided on once the board saw how the American chain went down in the UK, adapting their offering for the British market. Every new branch opened was a chance to improve so Chloe was very excited that she was going to be cooked at the newest, and therefore best, branch!
Excited to be getting inside, Chloe practically fell out of the car the second her dad put the hand-brake on.
“Steady on!” Her mum laughed. “Our appointment isn’t for another half an hour or so yet!”
“I know!” Chloe straightened her thin summer dress under which she was completely nude. “But I want to have a look inside! The gift shop wasn’t open when we came with the school and I wanna see what they have!”
“You want to look around the gift shop?” Her Dad got out of the car and closed the door, closely followed by Chloe’s older sister Amanda who had been sitting in the front seat due to her tendency towards travel sickness. “You planning on being served with a novelty pencil up your bum?”
“No!” Chloe giggled, “But they’re always fun to look around and I hear they sell some stuff made from left-over bits of meat girls so maybe you’ll get an idea for something of me you’d like to keep?”
“Maybe I’ll have your butt stuffed and mounted so I’ve got somewhere to park my bike?” Amanda teased.
“Nah, that would be such a waste!” Chloe retorted. “Don’t you remember how delicious Emily’s was?”
It had been six days since Chloe’s cousin Emily had given herself to Chloe as a gift to be barbecued as her birthday lunch, along with a voucher for Chloe herself to be prepared at their local Sidney’s. She had tasted absolutely amazing and Chloe could hardly wait for her own turn. As far as she had been concerned, the week could not pass fast enough but, finally, here they were – Chloe’s big day!
All laughing happily together, the family went inside.
“Hi.” Chloe’s mum smiled at the young woman behind reception who wore a red polo-shirt with the company logo on. “This is Chloe Miller? We’ve got a family party coming at two and we were told to be here for 11?”
“Of course.” The young woman smiled, consulting her list and ticking off Chloe’s name. “If you’d like to explore the reception area and gift shop for a while, I’ll let the prep team know that she’s here.” Chloe needed no further encouragement and shot off into the corner beyond the reception desk which served as the gift shop with racks and shelves full of merchandise. Her dad laughed and followed her while her mum and big sister decided to check out the displays. Chloe has seen them before on her school trip so wasn’t that interested but it was the first visit for the rest of the family and there was a lot to take in.
“Hey Daddy, check this out!” Chloe pointed to a glass cabinet filled with jewellery made from the finger-bones and teeth of meat-girls. “What do you think of…” she tailed off and her eyes went wide as she looked up at the wall. Above the cabinet was a line of six heads, all of beautiful young girls ranging in age from 8 or 9 up to 13 or 14, mounted like hunting trophies. All were smiling and their eyes had been replaced with glass replicas. They looked so natural and lifelike.
“Can we do that with my head?” Chloe enthused, “Can we? Can we? Can we?”
“It looks pretty expensive.” Her dad stroked his chin thoughtfully, “but I expect I can find the money. We’ll have to have a chat with the workers here and see if it’s something they can do with all the girls or whether it’s only for those that get butchered.”
“Thank you, Daddy!” Chloe flung her arms around him but then noticed something else on a shelf below the trophy heads. There were more taxidermy girl heads but these ones were not on plaques. Instead they were mounted upright on a kind of plastic collar with their mouths open in what looked like an expression of surprise. “What are these?” Chloe picked one up and turned it around in her hands. There was a kind of catch on the bottom that would release the underside of the base, like you might want to empty out the head and, stamped on the plastic were the words ‘A Very Happy Ending!’
“Is it a money box or something?” Chloe was puzzled, “And why do they look surprised? Are these the girls that got their heads cut off?”
“I’m not sure.” Chloe’s dad took the head from her and set it gently back on the shelf. He knew exactly what they were meant for but had no intention of explaining that to his 10 year old daughter and was surprised they hadn’t been displayed more discretely. “But if we do end up saving your head,” he promised, “we’ll get it mounted like those trophies up there. They’re much nicer anyway!”
“Found anything interesting?” Chloe’s mum asked, wandering over to join them, closely followed by Amanda. Chloe had moved on from the heads and was checking out the usual array of branded gift-shop tat. There was a shelf of recipe books that looked quite interesting and she took one down to flick through.
“Chloe’s decided that she wants us to keep her head as a trophy, if we can!” Her dad pointed up to the display.
“That seems like a nice idea.” Her mum agreed, “We can hang it in her bedroom once we’ve redecorated!”
“You sure you don’t want one of these instead?” Amanda pointed out the ‘Happy Ending’ heads cheekily, needing no explanation as to their purpose.
“Very sure!” Her dad gave her a disapproving but amused smirk, “Although from what he apparently said at the barbecue last week, Uncle Bob wouldn’t mind if we had yours mounted for him like this! It’s his birthday next month, what do you say we get his present sorted?” His teasing had the desired effect and his older daughter blushed and went quiet.
How do you find time to write all that? :)
When story involves consensual cooking you have almost no competition here LOL
I wonder if i will manage to replicate that mood in my story just as good.
I like that now it is not only about cooking but other types use too :)
Maybe you should try to do it more where girls do not only become food but serve some other purposes.
Thanks Onix - I generally write during my downtime at work (the benefits of self-employment eh?) What's the old saying? Time to lean, time to… write snuff porn? :-P
I do have another fantasy about girls being turned into statues, either by being coated with a thin but rock hard substance or being encased in something then put in a kiln so the girl gets burned to ashes then metal or plaster gets poured into the cavity, creating the statue, but I'm not sure it would work as a service Sidney's offers - waste of meat ;) Did wonder about full-body taxidermy 'though as the meat could still be used :-) I'll see where the side-stories for this one go :-)
CAREFULLY COOKING CHLOE Pt2
“Hi, hope you’re finding some interesting bits and pieces!” The young woman from the front desk found the Miller family happily browsing the gift shop. Amanda was admiring the jewellery, her mum was checking out a cook book that Chloe was excitedly showing her and her dad was reading a list of additional services Sidney’s could offer to create souvenirs from the remains of the meat-girls. There was even an option of full-body taxidermy for girls who’s meat was going to be used in the prepared dishes. It didn’t look like it had to be your own girl, just one who was selected for butchering that day. He wondered how popular this souvenir was? “I’ve spoken to the kitchen and they’ve asked me to get Chloe’s paperwork started then they’ll come and collect her for the basic test they need to do before you all meet up again for your kitchen tour so,” she smiled, “if Chloe and one of the parents could come with me? It doesn’t matter which.”
“You go, honey.” Chloe’s dad smiled at his wife. “You should have this little extra time.” Although he knew his wife was looking forward to the meal as much as everyone else and that she understood it was Chloe’s dream, she had still seemed sad that morning as the prospect of losing her little girl became a firm reality. The few extra minutes of mother-daughter time would be helpful to her, he was sure. Chloe grabbed her mum’s hand and practically dragged her after the woman who led them past the reception desk and into a room that looked a bit like the changing room of a swimming pool only with no lockers or cubicles.
“Okay, first thing we need is for Chloe to take her clothes off. Do you need a bag to put them in?”
“Don’t worry,” Mrs Miller smiled, “I brought one with me.” She fished in her handbag and pulled out a large shopping bag which she unfolded. Chloe’s dress was off almost before the woman had finished speaking and the proudly naked little girl sat down to unbuckle her white sandals.
“No tan lines! Impressive!” The young woman complimented Chloe. “Most girls who come in at this time of year have bikini marks or at least white bottoms!” Chloe giggled happily.
“We were on holiday most of last week,” her mum explained, “and, once the rest of the family had gone, I think the only time she wore clothes was when we went out to eat and even then she took some persuading!”
“Swimming in the nude is SO much better than in a swimsuit!” Chloe enthused. “You feel so free! Have you ever tried it?”
“Once, when I was on holiday with some friends but it was night time!” The young woman laughed.
“Oh you should totally do it again!” Chloe grinned at her. “And just lay out in the sun to dry after! It’s really the best!”
“Ha! I’ll bear it in mind!” the woman promised before turning to Chloe’s mum. “Here, I need you to sign this. I can give you some time to read it all if you want but essentially the key points are that, once you sign, Chloe will no longer be classed as human and, as such, will have no rights. You are also confirming that you understand and consent to her slaughter and preparation.”
“Well, we’ve come this far I suppose…” Chloe’s mum took a thoughtful breath, skim-read the documents and signed at the bottom. “There we go.” She smiled and handed back the clipboard, “She’s all yours!”
“Will we see each other again before I’m cooked?” Chloe asked the woman, looking a little nervous.
“Oh yes.” The woman smiled reassuringly, “We just need to do some quick tests and measurements then you’ll all meet up again for the tour of the kitchen!”
“Oh great!” Chloe grinned.
“Just one thing before I go.” Chloe’s mum remembered what her husband had said. “Chloe was rather hoping to get her head mounted for us to take home, is that a possibility?”
“It certainly is!” The woman smiled. “It’s a little trickier with live-cooking as I see Chloe has requested but it can still be done. Just needs a little extra care during the prep and,” she turned to Chloe, “you might feel a little bit silly with some of what we need to do!”
“Oh, that’s okay!” Chloe beamed, “As long as Mummy and Daddy get to take my head home with them! Bye for now!” She waved at her mum who chuckled and watched as her happy daughter was led away through a far door by the young woman. Having not been told anything to the contrary, Mrs Miller left the room the way she had come and rejoined her family in the gift shop.
You know what? I don't think I'm gonna be writing any more of this any time soon - really need to focus on "real life" projects and direct my creative energy into something more productive. Feel free to write or imagine your own continuation :)
Oh well, every good thing has to end sometime.
That could be expected, since this stuff really takes lots of time.
You managed to write quite a lot of stories before deciding to quit
I hope you will come back someday and maybe even if you will not write your own you will at least stay here to read what other people write ;)
Thanks :) Never say never etc… Just really want to try to focus on proper writing for a while :)
Does it mean you are professional writer or something like that?
That would be telling ;-)
Well, I always assumed you were a professional. I mean, I can see the gulf between my own writing, which I regard as merely adequate, and yours - it has a kind of polish to it. Not to mention that you seem to do it with such prolific ease!
Too kind, good sir! :)
As good as always
I think an issue with this site is it can feel a bit like shouting into an empty void. With no "upvote" or similar system I have no idea how many people read or enjoy anything I write without comments so I guess I'm asking if I do write more, are there more than three people interested in reading?
I had the same feeling writing my story. But I reckon (educated guess) that there's at least ten times as many readers as commenters. So you've probably got a couple of hundred readers IMO. Maybe more.
Personally, I'm happy just to write for myself and let my three fans shower me with praise!
I don;t comment usually, but I would like more.
Just stumbled upon this and your other stories, and they're fantastic. Would love to read more.
I think you are one who does not need to worry about lack of readers ;) even if I believe that nobody has that many readers here and all this lit board should be treated more like a form of roleplay.
But you know, considering comments I am getting scared to write them myself in the risk of offending authors I like. because if you start arguing or even say what you really think it may end badly.
So maybe this is why other people also do not write them?
More people probably will come later because for me it also took so much time that when I found your stories you already decided to quit almost the next day LOL But until it lasted that was a motivation to check lit board ;)
Hey Onix, to be fair I was only posting for around two weeks so it was a relatively short window!
Perhaps it is a slight language issue but I only take offense when comments imply that I got something wrong in what I wrote or insist it "should" have gone differently - I never mind people saying they didn't like it or it wasn't their cup of tea :-) Honestly I'm sure that's what you mean most of the time but the way it's phrased can make a difference (Don't worry - I still love you!)
Thanks everyone else :-) I know comments are hard and a little awkward sometimes which is why I wish this site had a Reddit-style up or down vote button :-)
Squunch, these stories are usually what I tell myself in the shower… *ahem* I shall still continue composing them for my own amusement hehe
You got me curious so I thought I'd analyze a few of the numbers my own stories have generated.
School Festival -
Gurochan: 20 Comments
ArchiveofOurOwn: 19 Comments, 200 Kudos, 22 Bookmarks, 16882 Hits
Barracuda's Banquet -
Gurochan: 1 Comment
ArchiveofOurOwn: 0 Comments, 11 Kudos, 1 Bookmark, 1165 Hits
Eka's Portal: 4 Comments, 5 Favorites, 674 Views
DolcettGirlsForum: 8 Comments, 722 Reads
Gurochan is definitely one of the lowest for generating user comments, still feels like most of the people who frequented the last iteration haven't found it again since it moved last. Between your several threads I counted over 100 comments from people other than yourself. If we unscientifically just extrapolate my numbers that's over 1000 people who liked it enough to give it a like and over 80,000 views. Of course not every view reads all the way thought and many of the comments are from the same small group of people. I still feel comfortable guessing that you have an audience of hundreds reading and enjoying your stories. You might even have one of the highest levels of user engagement in /lit/! Poor M has over 50 chapters in his fire emblem series and he rarely gets comments anymore.
It's been more or less my philosophy to post my stories on as many sites as I can, to get my work in front of as many readers as possible. DolcettGirlsForum seems to have the most communicative audience, but, like most of mine, your stories would run afoul of the age restriction. Since your stories focus on the cannibalism side of things I think you would get a good response from posting your stories on Eka's Portal as well, and then you could do your own comparison of comments ratio to favorites/views.
Although I guess I'm also part of the problem, exclusively lurking and never commenting, even though I know that comments on my works mean a lot to me. I've been one of those silent readers on your works, and I've been enjoying them. I'm sure I would read and enjoy any you write in future.
Those are some really interesting metrics.
I think user engagement / number of comments can be a bit misleading, because it depends on how much the author engages. For instance, on my own thread I nearly always reply to any comment, which tends to mean there's a lot of comments and conversation. But I'm not sure that translates into views, since there seem to be a small coterie of slavering fan-girls who follow my scribblings.
I'm pretty sure Mr. Hyde does
have the highest level of user engagement here - even though I was once "author of the website's flagship thread" lol. Of course he's cheating slightly. Writing about normie-level shit like roasting kids is pretty mainstream compared to running over cuties with steamrollers (toes first), but you gotta give the devil his due.
I'm having a temporary setback at the moment, and will surely regain my crown once I remember how to write again.
Another thing, because GC doesn't have a 'like' button, I think relatively more people comment, as it's the only way to show their appreciation. I know I tend to. So that might skew things too.
instead I find that a like would be useful. You could find a good story of months ago and it would be silly comment it to leave an appreciation, it would be necropost. Or, in a game thread, like Killer and Victim, with a lot of short story, leave a comment would make the thread too heavy
Yes, I totally agree. I'm just pointing out how the lack of a like button maybe changes the statistics.
You are right, I misunderstood your comment
Hehe yeah I guess I do have relatively broad appeal compared to some! Well, good news, the laptop I tend to write on has been repaired so I may have more for you soon (as long as that pesky muse of mine behaves!)
I've not heard of Eka's Portal but I may have to check it out ;)
I call that muse "Addction" :)
makes me waste time instead of doing serious work LOL
Once it starts it is very hard to stop once it stops it is very scary to start again :)