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 No.17040

GIRL-MEAT EXPO 2080

It is more than fifty years since the slaughter and consumption of young girls was legalised in Britain. Although at first, only the American chain Sidney’s had a license for on-site slaughter, with any other establishments having to rely on local butchers for their girl-meat, the passage of time and the easing of regulations to stimulate economic growth had reduced Sidney’s status to the largest of a number of chain restaurants where diners could enjoy girl-meat, not to mention the many independent pubs, restaurants and cafes that began to include this delicacy on their menu.

In response to the increased demand, the age of meat-eligability was extended in both directions, down to 6 at the lower end and 20 at the top. In theory, conversation remained an entirely voluntary matter but it could not be denied that the financial incentives offered to the immediate family, particularly tantalising amounts for those from more deprived backgrounds, meant that some meat-girls went to slaughter more willingly than others. Half-hearted laws were passed to try to prevent “farming” as it had become known, among Council Estate families but they were of limited scope and were hardly ever applied. There was simply too much money in girl-meat for vendors to be too picky about their suppliers. As long as a girl was healthy, of an adequate weight and not actively protesting when she was led to slaughter, that was enough to satisfy most.

The following stories all take place at or around the Girl-Meat Expo 2080 – a chance for companies in the girl-meat trade and those hoping to break into it to showcase their latest innovations, promote new products, network with others in the business and, in the case of individuals or small companies, attempt to see their inventions to the industry. The Expo is also open to the public and many thousands go along to look for ideas for special meals, decide if they want to get cooked themselves and how or simply to check out the many hundreds of naked girls of all eligible ages waiting to be prepared in the live cooking demonstrations.

I am going for a different kind of anthology approach with this thread, partly to it fresher and also to make it more interesting and challenging for me as a writer. I will be telling a number of stories alongside each other so each chapter will have its own title.

Enjoy!

A HELPING HAND FOR DADDY

Frank tore open the envelope enthusiastically, knowing from the logo on the outside what it would be. For the past two years he had been working on an invention to automate the process of killing, gutting and spitting a young woman, designed to make it easier for small business owners to keep barbecued girl-meat on their menus without the need to hire skilled butchers or chefs. There might, he hoped, even be a place in the larger establishments for his device, ensuring speed and consistency in their slaughter process. That very weekend he was to show off his prototype at the Girl-meat Expo and hopefully make enough money from sales or licensing to secure his family’s future, at least for the next few years.

Frank was a widower and father of three. His wife had been killed in a car accident on her way home from work nearly ten years ago and since then he had raised his three children on his own. He had enjoyed every second of being a father but it had meant giving up his full-time job and surviving on a mixture of state benefits and what he could earn working from home as a freelance design engineer. He had spent nearly all what was left on his savings on developing his device and on a space at the Expo but he felt in his bones that it would be worth it.

As he had thought, the envelope contained a parking pass, two all-access passes for the Expo itself on lanyards, a map of the venue showing where his allocated space was located and a covering letter laying out some basic rules and expectations for exhibitors, as well as useful phone numbers and email contacts. What he saw at the bottom of the letter made his blood run cold.

“Please be reminded that all exhibitors pitching slaughter or cooking devices are required to provide at least one demonstration with a live model provided at the exhibitors own expense.”

There had been no mention of this requirement when he applied, he had been sure! Every penny he had, short of the petrol money required to drive to the expo and the £5 or so he had in his wallet was already tied up in his device and ticket. There was no way he could afford to buy a live meat-girl too, especially at such short notice! Having no job and very little contact with others other than his children’s teachers and the parents of their closest school friends, he couldn’t even think of anyone he could ask to help him out! Frank felt his dream of financial security for himself and his children shatter. Worse than that, even, he was ruined! There was no chance of a refund on his ticket this close to the event and the chance of being able to sell the parent on his device was minimal without the right contacts, contacts he had hoped to make at the expo!

Just then, his oldest child and only daughter arrived home from football practice still in her kit, her clothes and legs muddy and the bag containing her cleated boots slung over her shoulder. Natasha was a few months shy of her 15th birthday and pretty, despite being something of a tom-boy. She hardly ever wore makeup, usually kept her long black hair in a pony-tail and was far sportier than either of her brothers – 11 year old Max and Kevin who had not long turned 13.

“Hi, Daddy!” She grinned as she closed the door behind her but, seeing her dad slumped on the sofa, resting his head forlornly with one hand and clutching some kind of letter in the other, she threw her boot-bag in the corner and sat down beside him.”What’s wrong?” He handed her the letter to read for herself. She read it top to bottom twice but could not see anything to explain his despair. “Sorry,” she handed it back, “I’m not seeing the problem?”

“I need to provide a model to prepare on my machine or I won’t be allowed to show it off,” he explained, “and I’ll blow any chance of being able to sell it!”

“So find a model, then?” Natasha suggested with the kind of matter-of-factness only a young teen could manage.

“Even if I could find one at this short notice,” Frank explained gently to his daughter who sat with her hand on his shoulder and a deeply concerned look on his face, “there’s no way I can afford one and there’s no women I’m close enough to even think about asking them to volunteer!”

“What’s wrong with the one sat right next to you?” Natasha asked, “Not pretty enough or something?”

“Oh, sweetheart!” he tapped her hand affectionately, “Even if I would even consider cooking you, which I won’t, this device is for preparing women, not little girls. It’s been legal to eat children a lot longer than it has to eat grown women and there’s more than enough girl-prep devices out there. I was hoping to fill a bit of a gap in the market! Natasha signed, rolled her eyes at her day and stood up.

Without ceremony, Natasha pulled off her football shirt and threw it aside then pulled her shorts and underwear down to her ankles in one motion, letting them fall on her feet below her thick, red, muddy socks. Finally she pulled her black sports bra over her head and stood with her hands on her hip.

“Well?” She asked with a cheeky grin, “Do I look like a little girl to you?” Frank had to admit that she did not. Although she was on the short side of average for her age and had a pretty baby-face, Natasha’s body was remarkably well developed. Her hips were wide, with a neatly trimmed but thick patch of black hair between. Above her round belly, her breasts were full and round, much larger than they had seemed contained within her normal sports bra. Her arms and muddy legs were shapely but thick and toned. She had certainly grown up a whole lot in the few years since he had last seen her naked!

“Not so little any more, for sure!” Frank agreed, a little embarrassed and confused by the turn the situation had taken. “But I’m still not sure if…”

“Oh! Sorry, I…” It was the older of Natasha’s two brothers and Franks middle child, 13 year old Kevin, letting himself through the front door into the living room. He was shocked to see his big sister stood naked right there in the open, apparently posing for their dad. He was not as shocked, however, as his best friend James who had come home from school with him to work on a homework project. His jaw dropped when he saw the naked teen stood there, her firmly round bare bottom towards him. He blushed furiously and thought he was going to pass out when she turned around to face them, giving an amazing full-frontal view and, incidently, giving her dad a chance to grudgingly admire her shapely rump.

“Don’t worry.” She smiled at the boys as if nothing was amiss. “We’re just chatting about Dad’s invention but he’s being a bit silly. Hey James,” she greeted her brother’s friend, “can I ask you a question?” The scarlet-faced boy nodded weakly, not trusting his voice. This was the last thing he had expected when Kevin put his key in the door moments earlier! “If you went to a restaurant with your family and ordered a woman, would you be satisfied if this arrived?” She indicated her own body with a sweep of her hand. James nodded again but with a little more enthusiasm this time. “See?” the nude girl turned back to her dad, “You’ve got a perfectly good woman right her happy to be your model and you’d be very silly indeed not to use her!”

“Are you really sure, sweetheart?” her dad took her hands and held them gently as he looked up into her expectant face with her big, dark blue eyes. “I would never sell you for meat or ask you to volunteer but you do look delicious and I cannot deny it would solve a lot of my problems if you really didn’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I minded,” she assured him, “I’m no tease!” James couldn’t help feeling that this was not entirely true but he kept his mouth shut. “If using me for a demo means that you can sell your machine and make lots of money for you and the boys then I’m more than happy to help!”

“Oh sweetheart.” Frank smiled a little sadly and shook his head. “I love you so much!”


DOUBLE TROUBLE

“What are we going to do?” Chris asked, desperately checking his watch. “If we don’t get started pretty much now, we’re not going to be done with the photos and prep in time for the broadcast!” He pulled out his phone and checked again but there were no messages or missed calls. He cursed himself for not having noted down the number before he left the office.

“What do we do if they don’t show?” his assistant Mandy asked.

“We’ll have to cancel the broadcast.” Chris sighed, “But that would mean pushing back the launch and advertising campaign at least another month. You can I will be out on our arses for sure!” He knew that their employers already had millions invested in the campaign for their new product and would certainly not welcome a delay which would cost them thousands. Running his fingers frustratedly though his hair and scanning the room for any sign of the group he was expecting, Chris’s eyes settled on something that could just be the miracle he needed.

“Ma’am? Excuse me? Ma’am?” he ran after the young mum who had just passed the performance area, pointing things out to her daughters. Chris caught up with the tall woman with the highlighted brown hair and patted her gently on the shoulder. She stopped and turned around, greeting him with a smile.

“Oh, sorry,” she smiled, “I didn’t realise you were calling me.”

“That’s okay,” Chris replied, relieved at how nice the woman seemed. Hopefully that would make the conversation he was about to have a little easier. He looked down and saw the woman’s lovely daughters smiling up at him. It was they who had caught his eye in the first place in fact and could provide the solution to his problem.

They were clearly twins, around 10 or 11 years old, incredibly pretty with twinkly brown eyes and light olive skin, a mass of curly, chestnut hair tumbling around their shoulders and down their backs. Both were dressed in tight denim jeans and white crop tops that left very little to the imagination and showed off their toned stomachs.

“Hi girls!” He flashed them the most charming smile he could muster then returned his attention to the woman. “Are these your daughters?” he asked, “They’re gorgeous!”

“Thank you!” the proud mother beamed, “Yes they are! This is Georgia and Kelly. Say hello, girls!” The girls smiled a little shyly and did as they were told.

“A pleasure!” Chris grinned at them then held out his hand to the woman. “I’m Christ Summerton, with Hartwell Location Catering. We’re filming a commrcial here today and launching our new ad campaign.”

“Ooh how exciting!” the mum grinned, shaking the handsome blonde man’s hand. “We’re here to find a fun way to cook these two, aren’t we girls?” she smiled proudly down at her stunning twin daughters. “They’ve been asking for years and even took up gymnastics to get their bodies in the best condition. I thought it was one of those phases at first, you know how kids can be!” Chris nodded, unable to believe his luck. It seemed the pitch he was about to make was going to be far easier than he had anticipated! “But they’re still insisting they want to be meat!” She chuckled. “They turn 11 at the weekend and I promised I’d cook them as their birthday present so we’re here looking for ideas!”

“Well is that so?” Chris knelt down to address the girls who both nodded enthusiastically. “Well, ladies, I may have some good news for all of us! You know how I said I was here filming an commercial?” the lady nodded, “Well we had a pair of twins cast to star in it. The plan was to take photos for magazine and billboard ads then cook them live on air. The live broadcast is going out in all regions and will then be repeated at least five times every day for the next six months.”

“Sounds exciting!” grinned the twins’ pretty mum.

“Yeah, it’s something quite special!” Chris agreed. “But here’s the thing. The girls we’ve cast haven’t shown up. I’m not sure if they’re stuck in traffic or changed their minds or what but we’ve not had any contact with their mum and have to assume they’re not coming. As you can imagine, if we’re going to get our photos before the live broadcast, as the stars would hardly be in a state to pose for them afterwards, we’re on a really tight schedule and really, if we don’t get started within the next ten minutes, we’re not going to make it!” The young woman’s face fell, pitying his predicament. Chris was about to ask the all-important question when he noticed the girls exchange a meaningful glance.

“We’ll do it!” Georgia grinned. “We’d love to be in your advert!”

“You sure?” Chris knelt down again, “You know you’d cooked for real, right?”

“Of course!” Kelly exclaimed enthusiastically. “It’s why we came here today after all! And if we get cooked on telly then we’ll be famous!”

“Oh you will!” Chris assured her, “A week from now, everyone will know your faces! So,” he stood up and addressed their mother again, “what do you think?”

“If the girls are keen then it’s fine by me!” she grinned. “After all, saves me the trouble of working out how to cook them at home! Can I at least come watch?”

“Of course!” Chris felt the relief wash over him. “You’ll get £6000 for the photographs and another £8000 performance fee for the commercial. On top of that, we’ll pay premium rate for their meat.”

“Wow, that’s amazing!” the delighted woman exclaimed.

“Worth every penny, I assure you!” grinned Chris, “Now let’s go get the paperwork sorted and we can make a start! Follow me, ladies!”

 No.17042

ooh, off to an engaging start!

 No.17043

I like where you are going with this. Thank you.

 No.17046

A third sub-plot to have some fun with! I must admit I'm finding this more fun to write as it means I can get several stories out of my system at the same time! lol

COMMUNITY SERVICE

“Okay girls, line up next to the bus, please!” the stocky, grey-haired lady with the clipboard called out to the twenty tweens and young teens who were milling around in the car-park, either chatting or checking their phones for any final messages. The girls lined up and the woman walked along the line making a head-count, checking off names and confirming the presence of parental permission slips hanging from her clipboard.

The group were Girl Guides who, in line with the ethos of their organisation, had agreed to take part in a scheme to raise money for the Third World by selling their bodies to be served in the food court of the Girl-Meat Expo. They would not be the only ones, of course. Twenty girls aged 12-15 might provide a fair amount of meat but nowhere near enough for all who would attend, but the vendors who purchased them had got on board with their cause, agreeing to pay slightly above going rate for their meat knowing that they would still make a profit while doing their bit for charity.

Satisfied that all were present and correct, the Guide Captain let the chattering rabble into the venue building and approached the reception desk.

“Second Sawneyton Guides.” She informed the receptionist in the buisness-like, almost brusque way middle-aged women in roles such as hers always seemed to talk. The young woman at reception greeted her with a friendly, customer-service smile and checked her computer.

“Ah yes.” she smiled, reading the information from the screen, “I see you have made arrangements with five of our food-court vendors? If the girls could go down to the changing room in Corridor B and get showered then line up in the corridor, I’ll let the vendors know that they can come and select their girls.”

“Thank you.” the Guide Captain smiled then turned to the waiting girls. “Right, changing room on Corridor B which is down that way.” She pointed, referring to the sign. “Make sure you remove all jewellery and piercings. You should each have a carrier bag with your name on it?” The girls all nodded. “Put your clothes, phones and any other personal property in those. I shall collect them when you come out and make sure they are returned to your parents. Once you’ve showered, you’re to line up against the wall in the corridor. Remember there will be lots of people coming and going today and many of them will be very busy with important jobs to do so try not to cause an obstruction. Any questions?” Typically teenage non-committal murmuring confirmed that there were not. “Very well then.” Captain clapped her hands to chivvy them along, “Off you go!”

The girls obediently trooped down the corridor in quite a range of moods. While all had agreed to the arrangement, some were excited to become meat, some were nervous about what the experience itself would entail and others were downright unhappy, knowing that they were doing the right thing for the world in general but annoyed that they had to die in order to do it and wondering why their lives were apparently worth less than those of the “starving” in the Third World.

“Why don’t they just eat each other if they’re so fucking hungry?” one of the older girls had been heard to remark while dismounting the coach. Most, however, were either keen or at least quite content with the idea.

The changing room was much like a typical PE changing room in a school with wooden benches, no private cubicles and a large, communal shower. Knowing that modesty was a luxury they had forfeited when they signed on to be meat, the girls stripped off without complaint and soon all were as naked as the day that they were born. Unable to help being curious about each others’ bodies, they all checked each other out, some subtly and some not so subtly.

Although there was no more than three years between the oldest and youngest of them, the naked bodies on display in the room ran the full spectrum from little girls barely into puberty, the merest hint of budding on their otherwise flat chests to young women who could easily have passed from 18 or 19 and everything in between. The one thing all the girls had in common, however, was their hairless bodies, all having shaved that morning as instructed.

Having stripped and carelessly bundled their clothes and possessions into their labelled carrier bags, far less carefully than the parents who bought the clothes and expensive electronics might have hoped, the girls bundled into the shower. Luckily, it was not the type where the user had to keep their elbow on a push-button to keep the water running, instead they worked by sensor, detecting automatically when someone was stood beneath them and keeping the water running for as long as they remained. Shower gel was in dispensers on the wall and all the girls, regardless of whether they would normally describe themselves as into boys or girls or both, or in the case of some of the younger members of the group, largely indifferent on the whole matter, had a great deal of fun soaping up each others’ lithe bodies, ensuring that every accessible inch would be spotlessly clean for when they were picked by the vendors. After all, the consensus seemed to be, they had at most two hours left to live, why not enjoy the time that was left to them?

Once all were clean and rinse off, the issue of getting dry was raised. They had not been given towels – were they supposed to drip-dry in the corridor? One of the girls, more confident in her nudity than some of the others, agreed to go and ask at reception but, as she stepped out of the shower area, she was met with a blast of hot air blown powerfully down from above, a little like entering a department store in the winter. Although her hair remained a little damp, her luscious teenage body was dry in seconds and, realising the system, the girls lined up and took in in turns to step through the hot hair back into the changing room. As soon as the last girl had passed through, they picked up their bags and, all feeling a little apprehensive about having to stand naked in a public corridor while people assessed and selected their bodies, made their way out into the corridor to wait for the vendors they had contracted themselves with.

 No.17060

THE SET-UP

“Are you sure this is this all the pieces?” Nastasha asked, frowning down at the selection of metal objects at her feet. In order to fit it into the car, it had been necessary for her father to almost completely dismantle his machine. Having been shown to their exhibition area in the great hall, the team of three had carried all the parts in from the car and now faced the task of reassembling the somewhat macabre device.

The package Frank had purchased, the cheapest one available, had included two passes and he had intended to bring Natasha as his assistant but now that she was his meat-model she was classed as equipment rather than a guest and therefore did not need a pass. Frank had decided to give the extra ticket to his 13yo son Kevin. It was still Natasha that he trusted most with the set-up but at least Kevin would be able to help him with tidying up afterwards. If, that was, Frank thought to himself with a chuckle, he could roll his tongue back into his head for long enough! Although it was still early in the day and Natasha remained dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, lots of the other meat girls were already walking around stark naked. There were some little girls, of course, but also lots of older teenagers and young women. Kevin had never seen so many bare breasts, butts and everything else that weren’t on a computer screen and was having the absolute time of his life!

“Yes, this is definitely all of it!” Frank crouched down next to his daughter to inspect the laid-out pieces. “I’ve sketched out some instructions,” he pulled out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket, Natasha glanced at it and couldn’t help a little giggle – her father’s talents definitely lay in practical engineering rather than fine art! “And I’ve stuck coloured stickers on the bits that connect to hopefully make it easier!”

“Do you need me for this bit?” Kevin asked, looking around distractedly. “Or can I go check out the rest of the place?”

“No, you go explore.” Frank smiled. At this stage in proceedings and as distracted as he was, Kevin was far more likely to be in the way than to be able to offer any actual help. Plus it would allow him to have a last little bit of Daddy-daughter time with Natasha. “The demonstration’s in three hours, just make sure you’re back in time for it. Natasha can help me until then. Oh and make sure you’ve got your phone so I can get hold of you if I need you!” Kevin needed no further instruction and was off like a bullet out of a gun, pulling out his phone and holding it aloft as he ran to assure his dad that he had it with him.

Over the next forty minutes or so, Natasha and her father worked on reassembling the machine that was hopefully going to set their family up for the foreseeable future. It should have felt strange, Natasha mused, building the method of her own execution, knowing that the sharp blades she was sitting were going to be slicing into her own soft flesh in a little over two hours but it just felt like a perfectly normal morning helping Daddy with his work as she had done so many times before. Finally, all the pieces were in place, all the nuts and bolts tightened and mechanisms primed. The pair stood back to proudly admire their handy-work.

Their alotted was a standard Innovator’s booth with the standard set of amenities – Several plug sockets in the floor, a steel-topped table, a lined bin for unwanted offal and a portable, open-fronted shower cubical, presumably for the meat-model, in the corner. Towards the front was a lectern with a mic hooked up to two speakers on either side and a smaller table for publicity material. A curtain also hung across the front so that those inside could prevent the general public getting a look at their invention until it was all set up, protecting their patents and trade secrets.

“I’m feeling a little over-dressed for my job!” Natasha teased. “I should probably get ready!”

“Okay,” her Dad smiled, laying out his brochures and business cards on the small table. “I’ll keep the curtain closed until you’re ready.”

“Nah, open it now!” the normally-modest girl giggled. “I feel like giving a bit of a show!”

 No.17061

FIRST TASTE OF FAME

“Right, girls,” Chris grinned, “let me show you what we’re going to be doing.” He led them across the stage area to the back where what looked like a flat, metal wall was stood, mounted on tracks. “This is what we’re advertising today.” He led the girls around to the back of it and enjoyed the way their eyes bulged in surprise and excitement. The broad grins on their little olive-coloured faces assured him that their gasps were of delight rather than horror. The “wall” was actually a large bank of electric heating elements in front of which was mounted a device with two spits, gyroscopically mounted so they would turn not only in place, exposing all sides of the meat to the heat, but also around each other, the upper and lower girl switching places every half-minute or so as they cooked.

“What do you think?” He asked, “Pretty cool, huh? It’s designed for cooking two girls at once and the theme of the adverts is going to be that if you have two girls that want to be cooked, there’s no longer any need to fight over which one gets picked or goes first. The photos are mostly going to be you two fighting over a single spit then realising you can both have one but we’ll do lots of variations. The photographer we’ve hired is one of the best commercial photographers in the business and she’s sure to have plenty of ideas too. For the actual advert on TV, we’re going to have one of you already spitted and starting to cook while the other is watching and pouting that your sister got picked over you. We’ll then pull back to show that it’s a rotisserie made for two and that you can both be cooked at the same time. We’ll then get the second one of you spitted too and show how the machine works. Obviously we only get one take and the first broadcast is going out live so we’ll have to practice as best we can in the few minutes before. Everyone okay with this so far?” Georgina put up her hand. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Is someone going to eat us when we’re done?” she asked, sounding a little concerned, “I’d hate for our meat to go to waste!”

“Oh don’t worry about that!” Chris grinned reassuringly, “Once you’re delicious little bodies are cooked we’ll bring them to the front and serve them to the public like they’re at a cookout in the park. We’ve got about five hundred burger buns out back and thirty bottles of ketchup. Hope that’s okay?” Both girls grinned very broadly again and nodded, thrilled that not only would their cooking be broadcast to millions to also that hundreds of people would get to sample their meat! He led them to a back corner where a brightly-lit photo area had been set up with a large, white screen that they’d be able to add various different backgrounds or text onto. The entire area was visible to the public and already some curious onlookers had started to gather.

The girls and their mum were shown the cameras, how they were linked to the lights and the way the photographer would be able to capture the same image from a number of different angles with a single press on a remote control. Mandy, Chris’s assistant, came over carrying a brightly coloured pile.

“Here,” she smiled, handing two pieces to each girl, “pop these on and we can get started with the photographs.”

“Oh…” Kelly sounded sad as she unfolded a neon orange pair of shorts and a matching crop top with the company’s logo on it. It was very like the outfits they had worn in their gym and dance classes.

“What’s the matter?” Chris asked, concerned, seeing that both girls were looking rather unhappy.

“They’re cute outfits,” Kelly made a bit of a face, “just I thought we were going to be nude?”

“Oh is that what’s bothering you?” Chris laughed. “Don’t worry about that! You’re certainly going to get to show off those tight little bodies of yours in some of the photos but would you believe there’s some magazines that say you have to actually be cooked or cooking before they’ll print photos of you naked? You have to be covered up for any where you’re not. You’re going to be in your full birthday suits for the billboard ads ‘though, don’t you worry about that!” This seemed to satisfy the girls and they both grinned before dropping the new outfits on the floor and starting to strip out of the clothes they had arrived in, taking some time between removing their underwear and picking up the new new outfits to stretch and pose a little for those watching. Some onlookers in the audience wolf-whistled and the girls waved and blew them kisses.

Laughing, the twins’ mum gathered up the discarded clothes.

“You don’t happen to have a bag or something I can put these in, do you?” She asked Mandy, “I didn’t expect the girls not to be wearing them home!”

“No problem.” Mandy smiled. “I’ll go find you something.

There was an audible groan of comically-exaggerated disappointment as the twins unhurriedly pulled on the bright orange dance suits. They shrugged dramatically at the audience and put on “What can you do?” faces which raised a laugh. These girls, Chris was delighted to see, were natural performers and would be just as good as the professionals they had replaced, not to mention equally delicious when cooked – their toned little bodies really were a treat to behold!

“Great!” Chris clapped his hands together as the photographer arrived, sipping the coffee she had nipped off to fetch before the shoot and Mandy returned with a bag for the twins’ street clothes which their mum accepted gratefully. “Looks like everyone’s ready! Let’s get started!”

 No.17064

KITCHEN DUTIES

The twenty naked Girl Guides fidgeted as they waited, lined up against the wall in the corridor, for the food-court vendors to come and make their choices. They had all easily made their peace with the idea that they were going to be cooked and eaten before the end of the day but standing naked in a corridor was just humiliating. What seemed to make it worse was that those passing by were barely giving them a second glance. Captain had been right, other than those coming specially to see them, those walking briskly up and down the corridor were busy people with work to do for whom they were nothing but a potential nuisance. Some of the girls who thought highly of their looks and figures had been looking forward to appreciative looks and comments from the men passing by and to stand there with everything on show yet nobody paying them the blindest bit of attention was starting to feel incredibly frustrating. After what felt like an age, the first vendor arrived. It was Stavros from the “Taste of Greece” kebab and grill stand.

“Hi!” he grinned at Captain and identified himself. “I paid for three girls. Are they assigned or do I get to pick?”

“Feel free to make your own selection,” Captain found his name on the list and returned his smile in a business-like fashion. “First come, first served. Girls!” She called out to the fidgeting and chattering nymphs, “Backs to the wall and let this gentlemen get a good look at your meat so he can make his choices.”

The middle-aged, shaven-headed Greek man walked along the line, inspecting the nubile young bodies as dispassionately as if he had been inspecting pic carcasses in a market. Sometimes he would stop for a closer look at one of the girls and occasionally ask them to turn around so that he could check out their rump meat. Having reached the end of the line, he started back but this time selecting girls as he passed.

“I’ll take you.” He tapped Sandra, a young-looking 14 year old with cute little tits no bigger than plumbs and wavy, dark brown hair down to her backside, on the shoulder. “You.” He selected Adrianna, one of the oldest in the group with blonde hair, classically pretty features and a perfectly round ass that looked huge contrasted with her trim figure. She stepped forward proudly, the smile at the corner of her mouth almost smug. She had been sure that she would be among the first selected. “And you.” Last to be picked was Julie who, although only 12 was as tall as Sandra and sported a similar figure, only slightly more meaty all over and a little less up top. Her shoulder-length light brown hair was in a loose ponytail which left some stray locks to frame her pretty, round face.

“Wonderful selection!” Captain congratulated him, “Girls, you should be very proud to be among the first to be picked. “May I ask how you’ll be preparing them?”

“These two will be kebabs!” He patted the younger two girls on the shoulders. “Delicious meaty bodies like theirs deserve to be shown off!” The girls blushed a little, feeling both nervous and excited at the prospect of being impaled and mounted on a rotating grill while strangers watched their nude bodies cooking. “And this one,” he slapped Adrianna fairly hard on her large, firm behind, “I slice some, I mince some, some I turn into steaks. I’ll certainly get some fine cuts from this part, huh?” he have her meaty rump a squeeze. The attractive blonde was shocked and very nearly cried out in protest. She had expected her body, for which she had received so many compliments in the past and which she personally believed to be among the hottest of the group, to be made the centre-piece by any vendor lucky enough to get her whereas now she was being told that she was simply going to be cut up like a cow in a slaughterhouse. This did not strike her as fair at all.

“Very fine selections.” Captain nodded her approval, noting down the chosen girls and to whom they had been sold on the list on her clipboard. “Now girls,” she cautioned them, “remember that Mr. Stavros owns your meat now and you must do all you can to cooperate with him with no complaints! Good luck!”

As the Greek led the three girls away, two more vendors turned up to make their selection and, less than twenty minutes later, all the charity girls had been allocated.

 No.17065

Oh this story is amazing! I can't wait for the continuation <3

 No.17068

SHOW-TIME

Frank glanced at his watch – fifteen minutes until his demonstration was due to begin. He looked over at his beloved daughter, so like her mum in many ways, stood naked and confident chatting with potential buyers and investors about the machine he had invented. She was handing out the brochures and pointing out the features on the machine itself, occasionally pointing to various parts of her own body to clarify what went where. Could he really do this? He asked himself. Sacrifice one of the three people he loved most in all the world for the sake of the other two? Then he remembered how readily she had volunteered, how annoyed she had seemed at his hesitation and how determined she was to help him see a return on the investment he had made into invention which had been at least five years in the making. He would carry out the demonstration as agreed, he told himself, and raise a glass in thanks and memory to his wonderful daughter for every sale that he made.

With five minutes to spare, Kevin returned, puffing and panting having run half way across the massive hall when he realised the time.

“Glad you made it back!” He ruffled his son’s hair. “Spot anything tasty?” His son’s blush told him everything he needed to know. Instructing the 13 year old boy to do some last-minute checks on the machine, to ensure that all the bolts were tight and the electrics all connected properly, he walked over to where Natasha was busily explaining the benefits of her father’s all-in-one machine over other commercially available devices.

“It’s time, sweetheart.” He put a gentle hand on her shoulder and promised himself that he would not let her see how sad he was about what was about to happen. “I’m so proud of you. Thank you again.”

“The only thanks I need is that your machine becomes a big hit, Daddy!” she grinned up at him. “Oh and it would be nice to know that you two are at least going to try my meat when I’m cooked?”

“Oh don’t worry!” he assured her. “I wouldn’t pass up the chance to sample the most delicious piggy in the room!” He gave her a wink and she giggled before looking serious for a moment and taking a deep breath. “Having second thoughts, sweetheart?” Frank asked with concern, “Because I’m sure I can talk to someone and…”

“No, no!” she cut him off. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life! Just kinda bracing myself, you know?” A thought seemed to cross her mind. She looked up at him with big, wide eyes and for a moment it felt as if she was the little four year old again who had just lost her mother and he wanted nothing more than to pick her up, cuddle her and tell her that everything would be okay. “Is it going to hurt a lot, Daddy?” she asked quietly.

“No,” he promised her, “not if everything works as it should. You may be a little uncomfortable when you’re mounted on the machine but it’s important that you’re kept still. Pretty much the first thing it does is kill you and it does that so quickly you’ll have just the briefest moment of pain then it will all be over.”

“Okay, Daddy. Thank you.” She smiled, grateful for his reassurance. “Let’s do this!”

“Just quick, before we do!” Kevin cut in. Father and daughter both turned to look at him. “Do you need her head once it comes off? For the demo I mean?”

“What do you mean?” Frank asked.

“Like, after the machine cuts her head off, are you going to do anything with it? Does it get cooked or used in some other way?”

“No,” Frank admitted, “but honestly I hadn’t given it that much thought! What do you ask?”

“It’s just that there’s this guy with a stall at the end, near the toilets,” Kevin explained, “and he makes trophies out of girls’ heads. You know, mounts them on wood so you can put them up on the wall? I thought that might be cool to do with yours, Nat?” He grinned at his sister.

“What do you think, honey?” Frank turned to his daughter, “Fancy being a trophy?”

“You know,” she grinned, “I actually do like the sound of that! You can hang me in your workshop so I can keep an eye on you and you’ll always have a memento of how I helped you out today!”

“Then it’s a deal!” Frank grinned, secretly hoping that the process would not be too expensive or that he would at least make enough quick sales that day to cover the cost. “Just make sure you catch her head and don’t let it fall on the floor.” he cautioned Kevin. The instruction sounded far too abrupt the second it was out of his mouth but neither of the children seemed bothered – they were just keen to get on with the demonstration.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen,” Frank spoke into the microphone on the lectern and the chattering crowd who had gathered quietened down to listen to him, “to the launch of ABI – the Automated Beheading and Impalement device.” There was a polite round of applause. Natasha posed next to the machine, grinning and pointing at it dramatically as if she were revealing a prize on a game show. Frank had to suppress a little chuckle – this was a whole different side to his tom-boy daughter than he had ever seen before.

“As you will see, the machine is set up to begin a new cycle. Reset time between removing one fully cooked body and mounting the next takes a maximum of fifteen minutes with no experience. A skilled and practised operator would be able to complete the process in less that ten. Unwanted offal is contained and incinerated,” he continued, “and, with the exception of initial mounting and eventual serving, along with one quick adjustment prior to activation of the cooking element, the entire process is automated allowing you and your staff to get on with other essential kitchen tasks.” Natasha was crouched down now, pointing to the folding offal trough beneath where her body would be mounted very shortly.

“One the machine is switched on and the blade is locked into place, it will begin to heat up.” As she had practised at home in the workshop, Natasha pulled the spring-loaded blade, long, straight and razor-sharp along one edge like a ninja sword, pulled it an almost full revolution, feeling the strain of the spring, and felt it click into place on the other side of its original sheath. She then fixed the perspex guard in place so that the swishing blade could not do any accidental damage to anybody near by. “Once the subject is mounted,” Frank explained, “the heated blade can be released from a safe distance by remote control. Now,” he turned slightly to look at his children and the machine, “I will ask my model and lovely daughter, Natasha, to mount the ABI and my son Kevin to fix her in place. Good luck, sweetheart!” Natasha blew him a kiss and mounted the two steps at the far end of the machine.

The previous day, before dismantling the machine for transport, she and Frank had run through the process many times so that she would know what to do. In front of her were two small platforms for kneeling on. She did so and titled her body forwards so that her neck and wrists rested in the bottom half of the pillory-type mount at the front. Kevin then lowered the top half and latched it into place. Natasha had opted to wear her long, dark hair loose so he brushed it carefully with his fingers over to one side, leaving her pale neck exposed and her beautiful hair away from the path of the cruel blade. Natasha continued to smile at the audience was wave her hands as if she were a magician’s assistant taking part on the famous “saw the woman in half” trick. Kevin swung the back end into place, folding the steps underneath, and lifted first one foot, then the other, locking them into place. Natasha was now suspended in the middle of the device and could feel gravity pulling on her impressive young breasts. The final act of prep required, Kevin positioned the spit in its mechanical mount, ensuring that the tip was lined up with his sister’s vagina (which appeared, incidently, to be rather wet and eagerly awaiting the spit). His work completed, the young teen stepped back and gave a little bow which was rewarded with another polite round of applause. He then went around to the front of the machine, ready to catch his sister’s head when it fell.

At a signal from Kevin that all was well, Frank held up the remote. “I think a big round of applause for Natasha is in order, don’t you folks?” The assembled audience obediently clapped and cheered and, unable to move in the restraints and bracing herself for what was about to come, Natasha couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride. “Okay folks, let’s count down from five, shall we?” He held the remote aloft and began the countdown. Many others, including Kevin, joined in.”

“FIVE!”

“FOUR!”

“THREE!”

“TWO!”

“ONE!”

There was an excited cheer and the heated metal blade swished from its mount. Natasha heard only a metallic click as the blade was released. Then came the split-second of searing pain as the blade passed through her wrists and neck like butter. Her hands fell to the floor but her head was caught carefully, almost lovingly, by her little brother. He quickly turned it around so that she could look up at him in the final seconds before she lost consciousness.

“Well done, Nat!” He grinned at her. “You weren’t such a bad sister either!” If she could have giggled, she would have. Kevin held up her head above his own triumphantly to renewed cheers from the crowed and the last thing Natasha saw was her Daddy’s proud face and the group of people all cheering. Cheering for her.

Kevin set his sister’s head carefully on the steel-topped table as the demonstration continued.

“As you will notice,” Frank pointed out, “the heated blade has cauterized the wound on impact and there is none of the messy blood-splatter usually associated with beheading. A small, circular saw sprung from its mount and ran along the length of Natasha’s soft belly. It must also have been heated as it left the edges of the wound relatively bloodless and a slight aroma of seared meat could already be smelled. As the headless teen’s guts began to spill out, the saw moved higher inside her, severing them from her body and allowing them to fall. Triggered by the weight, the metal plate beneath her carcass folded in on itself, trapping the waste and tipping over to one side, leaving the cooking element, comprised of five metal bars which ran the length of Natasha’s body exposed.

“Watch now,” Frank continued, “as the rotating spit makes it was through the body.” The spit moved forward slowly as if it were drilling into her. “While most spitting devices require a secondary mount and stabilizing skewer, the ABI’s is perfectly counterbalanced to be supported from a single mount and uses internal spikes to stabilize the body.” Although the action was internal, the audience could hear the sound of sprung metal being released as the spikes shot out to pin Natasha’s meat to the spit from the inside. “When the meat is ready for serving,” Frank assured them, “the spikes can be withdrawn at the touch of a button. The keen-eyed among you may have noticed a set of spikes at either end? These are for keeping the arms and legs in place during cooking.”

There was now little left to do but for Kevin to remove the mounts at either end and force Natasha’s ankles and wrists onto the spikes. Frank explained that, as an additional safety feature, the cooking element would not activate until 60 seconds after the second mount had been removed – more than enough time for any chef or kitchen hand to secure the limbs and retreat to a safe distance.

“So, there you have it!” Frank beamed proudly at the audience as the metal bars began to glow red hot and the spit began to turn Natasha’s delicious body over the heat. “The Automated Beheading and Impalement device – the ABI! If you’d like to wait around approximately thirty minutes we will be delighted to share some of my daughter’s delicious meat with you but, for now, does anybody have any questions?”

 No.17075

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION!

The photo-shoot was complete and the twins stood naked and giggling in front of the sizeable crowd that had gathered to watch. Most of the shots had consisted of them either posing with or appearing to fight over a prop spit. With minor variations, the sequence of photos had been run through three times – the first time with the girls dressed in the figure-hugging yet modest dance suits, a second time in thongs that covered just enough to get around decency laws in some of the territories where they wished to advertise and finally in the nude – what the girls had been most looking forward to from the start. Once all the posed pictures were taken, the photographer took some of the naked little girls simply goofing around with each other, or striking cheeky poses with their little round bottoms stuck out towards the camera. Even if the photos never made it into any of the official publicity they could still be shared on social media to help increase the reach of the campaign.

With twenty minutes to go before the live broadcast, Chris instructed for the photo session to be wrapped up while Mandy spoke to the techs who would be operating the double spit. The photos had been lots of fun to take and both girls were giddy with excitement at the idea of being cooked on live TV and eaten a short time later by the large crowd who were clearly looking forward to the show. Getting to show off their naked, toned little bodies was a bonus for them as well as to those watching.

“Now girls, we have a choice we need you to make.” Chris dropped to one knee so that he could talk to the twins face to face. “At the start of the commercial, we need one of you to be on the spit already and other other one watching. The one who’s watching will have a couple of lines while the one on the spit, of course, just has to look delicious. Who wants to do what?” The twins glanced at each other.

“Can we talk about it for a minute?” Kelly asked.

“Sure.” Smiled Chris, “Just don’t take too long as we’re on a fairly tight schedule.” He stepped away to give the girls some privacy as they began to frantically discuss the situation between themselves.

“I was hoping to go first!” Georgia pleaded.

“Yeah,” Kelly countered, “but you’re better at saying lines and that sort of thing. I bet I’d mess it up!”

“But you’d get to be spitted and cooked before me!”

“Yeah but you’d get to be spitted live on TV!” Kelly reminded her. This Geogia couldn’t deny the appeal of this.

“Fine!” She conceded. “You go on the spit first and I’ll do the lines!”

“Great!” Kelly grinned before calling to Chris, “We’ve decided!”

“Fantastic!” Chris clasped his hands together then gestured for one of the techs to come over. “So who is going on the spit?”

“That would be me!” Kelly raised her hand.

“Great!” Chris grinned, “Now I’m going to let you in on a little trade secret. Promise you won’t tell anybody?”

“We promise!” chorused the girls.

“Good!” Chris winked, “Because if you told anyone, I’d have to kill you!” The girls giggled. “The fact is, people love the idea and taste of cooked girls but uncooked girls are way prettier to look at, so what we’re going to do for this commercial is get you spitted but then cover you in a light brown sauce, perfectly edible and extra delicious of course, that will make you look like you’ve been cooking for longer and have gone a golden brown so,” he looked straight at Kelly, “although you’ll only have been on the spit a few minutes when the camera start rolling, it will look to the people watching as ‘though you’ve been cooking half an hour at least! Make sense?” Kelly nodded. “Great! Georgia, you go with Mandy and she’ll talk you through what you need to do and Kelly,” he reached out his hand for her to hold, “you come with me!”

Alex led Kelly to the double spit which had been rotated to face the audience and moved further forward down the rails so that it was about half way between the back wall and the camera, behind which the audience clamoured for a better look.

“What do I need to do?” Kelly asked.

“It’s a fairly standard spit, honestly.” Chris explained, signalling to the techs. “It’s the ratcheted mount that’s the innovative part.” One of the techs came forward with a small metal table with adjustable legs. He set it in front of Kelly then adjusted it until the surface was just below her waist. Another tech detached the top spit from the mount and approached with it. Kelly couldn’t help but gulp when she say it. It was bigger than she had imagined and very sharp. Suddenly the reality of the situation hit her. This was not just a fun naked photo-shoot any more after which she could shower off and go home, this was for real. She was about to get impaled right through her deliciously toned nearly-eleven year old body then cooked on live TV! Not only that but the footage of her naked self cooking would be repeated again and again for months. The thought made her shudder with a mixture of fear and excitement. While the tech greased up the spit, Mandy ran through with Georgia what was required of her.

“We hired a famous actress to play your mum in voice-over,” she explained, “so you’ll be reacting to a recording. That means you have to get the timing exactly right. Think you can manage?” Georgia agreed and Mandy showed her the script. It seemed simple enough and followed the basic outline Chris had explained. She saw her real mum watching from the edge of the crowd and gave her a wave. Her mum waved back and blew a kiss, mouthing “good luck!”. Mandy took out her phone and played the recording quietly to Georgia, giving her a chance to practice reading in her own lines. After a couple of run-throughs, she tried it without the script in her hand and three more attempts later, she was word and timing perfect.

The spit suitable greased, one of the techs instructed Kelly to lean over the table. As she did so, another tech took hold of her hands to hold her down. This was it, she told herself, no backing out now! The tech holding the spit lined the sharp point up with the exposed opening of her tight little vagina and began to push. At first it just felt strange and tickled a little but then the pain hit. As the spike continued its journey through her toned young body, she felt the pain begin to subside. Whether it was the excitement or her brain producing and overdose of naturally pain-numbing chemicals to protect her she could not be sure but, very soon, rather than being in pain she found herself feeling giddy, like she had after trying a glass of champagne at her cousin’s wedding six months earlier. The spit emerging from her mouth in front her her struck her more than anything as an amusing novelty rather than anything to be too concerned about.

Once she was fully spitted, the stabilizer was inserted between her firm round butt cheeks and her hands and feet secured with standard cuffs. Thus secured, she was fixed back onto the mount and another tech rushed forward to coat her body in the light brown glaze. The cold substance tickled as it was spread onto her slowly-rotated body and she found herself giggling around the spit. The heating elements, Chris had explained, would not be switched on until a few seconds before the camera started rolling so she would be very much alive to enjoy her first and only taste of TV stardom.

Geogia was now stood on the small table so that, with the right camera angles, it would look as if she was standing on a level with Kelly’s spitted form. She was no longer naked but dressed in a white summer dress which was ever so nearly see-through with nothing underneath, of course, and white slip-on shoes. The camera-men were making last minute checks and Chris was watching the digital countdown to going live when Mandy hurried over and drew his attention to a commotion that was happening by the side of the stage.

A tall, overly-made up woman was forcing her way through the crowd pushing two embarassed-looking blonde girls ahead of her. The girls were twins and dressed in identical salmon pink dresses with their long blonde hair in side-ponytails, the mirrored image of each other. Arriving at the front of the crowd, the mother pulled the dress up over the head of the first girl, leaving her naked aside from her little white shoes and was pulling fussily at the dress of the other when Chris arrived to see what was going on.

“Oh thank goodness!” she exclaimed, pushing the two now-naked girls forward. “I thought we’d never get here! Bye girls!” She pushed them towards Chris who automatically put a protective arm around the shoulders of each by stopped them going any further. “Good luck!”

“I’m sorry, Mrs Kyle,” he explained, “but you’re two late! We’ve had to recast the roles.”

“Nonsense!” the woman looked indignant. “My girls won the audition against all those other girls. All my friends and family are tuned in to watch them cooked on television!”

“And they would have been if you’d arrived an hour ago like you were supposed to,” Chris spoke firmly, his practised customer-service patience slipping a little, “but you were a no-show and we’re on a deadline so we had to go ahead and find other girls. We’re barely a minute from going to air!” He pointed up at the digital display out of view of the television cameras but clearly visible to anybody in the room. It showed 73 seconds until they went live.

“Then we’re just in time!” Mrs Kyle persisted, turning to leave. “Good luck, girls! I’ll be watching from over here.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs Kyle but no!” Chris was trying very hard not to raise his voice. He glanced down at the girls with an apologetic smile to show that he knew this situation was not their fault. “As you are well aware, the contract included photographs for a magazine and billboard campaign which we have already had to take with the alternative girls. One of them is already on the spit and we’re half a minute away from going l live!”

“Just pull the little tart off and get mine on!” the terrible stage-mum insisted. “You could have been ready by now if you didn’t insist on wasting my time with this nonsense! Use whatever bitches you want for your precious photos but my girls are going to be cooked live on TV right now! Got that?”

“Mrs Kyle,” Chris spoke very firmly indeed, “If you do not turn and walk away right now I will call security and have you removed.” She looked furious.

“What am I supposed to do with these two, then?” She pointed accusingly at the girls. “I have a memorial arranged for them tomorrow and all my friends are going to be there! I brought a new outfit! The local press are coming to cover it and I’ll look pretty stupid if they’re sat on the front row beside me!” This was too much for Chris. While it was no unknown for families to hold memorials for cooked girls, usually celebrating their lives and thanking them for their meat, they usually took place a dignified week or so afterwards. Clearly this woman was just using the situation for self-advancement and it left a very sour taste in his mouth.

“If you don’t want to take the girls with you, you can leave them with me and I will find a use for them but you will not be paid for their meat. You, on the other hand, are going to leave right now!”

“Do what you like with the little bitches!” the woman practically screamed, throwing their dresses down at their feet. Chris squeezed their shoulders supportively. “My decorators are already turning their bedroom into my new art studio and I don’t want them cluttering up the place! As for you,” she glared at Chris, “I hope your stupid little ad campaign fails and that your company goes bankrupt and you end up on the street!” With that, she turned on her heel and pushed her way back through the crowd who all gave her shocked and disgusted looks.

“I’m sorry girls,” Chris knelt down and handed them their dresses, “but I really can’t use you in my advert.”

“It’s okay,” the slightly shorter of the girls answered, “we understand! We’re been telling Mum to call ahead and see if you still wanted us but she refused!”

“I’m really sorry about the way she talked about you.” He sighed. “If you still want to cook, I can probably use you for a demonstration later on but right now I have to get on with the ad. Why don’t you go watched from over there and I’ll talk with you later?” They nodded and pulled their pink dresses on over their golden-tanned naked bodies and made their way behind the cameras to the edge of the audience. The countdown clock was reading 15 seconds. “Everybody ready?” Chris called out and received many nods and thumbs-up gestures in response. “Great!” The clocked ticked down its last few seconds. “Okay, and…. ACTION!” He followed the footage on a small monitor screen.

The scene opened with a shot of Georgia, in her almost-transparent white dress, watching her sister’s golden-brown body slowly rotating on what, with the tight camera angle, appeared to be a standard spit. She turned towards the camera, folded her arms and pouted.

“What’s the matter, honey?” the pre-recorded voice boomed from the speakers. “Aren’t you looking forward to your dinner? Your sister is going to be really delicious!”

“I’d be just as tasty as her!” Georgia delivered her scripted lines like a professional. “How come she gets to cook and I don’t?”

“You’ll get your turn one day,” the mother voice assured her, “but we can only cook one of you at a time after all!”

“OR CAN YOU?” a slick, “advertising” voice spoke and the monitor cut to a pre-recorded show-reel about the double spit.

“Wow!” The broadcast cut back to Georgia who was now beaming. “You mean we can both be cooked at the same time?”

“That’s what it sounds like!” The mother-voice replied laughingly. “I guess you’d better get ready!”

As she had practised over and over with Mandy, Georgia pulled the straps of her dress over her shoulders and let it fall to the ground, standing with her arms up held out by her side and her naked body exposed to the camera and the millions of viewers at home.

The advert cut to pre-record again and a team of techs ran onto stage. Georgia had been warned that her impalement would be extremely fast and potentially quite painful but she knew it was the price of her participation. She hopped down off the table and offered no resistance as the techs held her down a little roughly and forced the spit through her. Before she knew it, she was mounted on the double spit and turning not only on her own axis but around her sister in front of the red hot heating element. The footage cut back to the cooking girls and the voice-over reiterated the name of the device and where it could be purchased.

“And that’s a wrap!” Chris shouted. “Great work everyone!” The whole crew breathed a sigh of relief and Kelly and Georgia’s mum approached the device to get a better look at her cooking daughters. “Thank you so much, again!” Chris shook her hand, “Your girls really were super-stars and I have a feeling this campaign is going to be one of our most popular ever!”

“Hi!” he turned to see the originally cast set of twins stood smiling at him. “We’ve decided we definitely want to be cooked!” the taller one informed him. “Is that something you can arrange?”

“I’m sure we can do a second demonstration this afternoon,” Chris mused, “but for now, why don’t you take your dresses off and chat to the audience – I’m sure you’ll attract plenty of attention! Then in about half an hour’s time you can help us serve this meat!”

 No.17076

Aww!! This was one of my favorite bits you have written. The twins being such good little stars, and the two new munchkins embarrassed by their mother, love it <3

 No.17087

I feel I have tapped myself a little dry creatively so probably won't be posting anything new for a while after this. I hope you enjoy and I'll check back from time to time for comments. I'm sure this will not be the last story of this kind I write!

A GREEK TRAGEDY

“Here we are!” Stavros pointed proudly at his stand with his restaurant’s name and logo on a banner hanging the entire length of the front. All the booths in the food-court were obviously temporary pop-ups, there only for the duration of the Expo, and as such mostly followed a similar layout to each other. There were fifteen in all, the girls noticed, arranged in a large circle most with facilities for cooking at least one girl or woman in view of the diners. In the middle were typical cafeteria-style tables and chairs that patrons purchasing food from any of the fifteen vendors could use to eat their meals at. There were signs up all around warning that only food purchased in the food court could be consumed there and anyone caught with outside food would be asked to leave the area and risked being banned from the entire Expo.

The three naked girls stood nervously in front of the glass-fronted counter which was filled with freshly prepared salad, bottles of various sauces and cans of soft drink. Behind it was what was really holding the girls’ attention – a cooking range with two upright spits, arranged either side of a flat griddle surface for cooking chops and other cut meats. Behind each upright spit was a bank of metal bars, designed to heat up when a current was passed through them, that the two younger girls knew would soon be blasting their young bodies with searing heat as they slowly turned and cooked on the skewers. Adriana, however, knew that her destiny lay in the middle, as unidentifiable cuts on the griddle. She was still not happy about this and looked around enviously at the other vendors’ set-ups, imagining her body on a rotisserie or in one of the glass-fronted – anywhere that people might gather to admire her as she cooked.

“You youngsters wait here.” Stavros pointed to the area between the counter and the cooking station. “I get you cooking real soon. If anyone asks, tell them to come back in an hour for some of your delicious meat!” He put his hand on Julie’s belly and gave the soft meat a little jiggle. She smiled weakly at him. “Now let’s get you cut up, huh?” He slapped Adriana’s bottom again and pushed her towards the back of the booth, behind the cooking station. Not wanting to hear what was going on behind them, the younger girls leant on the salad counter and tried to make small-talk with the passers-by but, as it was still early in the morning, most were other vendors getting set up with little time to chat. A few, however, were exhibitors who had finished getting their own stands set up and were exploring the rest of the Expo before the public were let in and they were able to keep themselves occupied while the Greek restaurateur prepared their friend.

“Are you at least going to get my head mounted as a trophy or something?” Adriana sighed, trying to salvage a little of her dignity from the increasingly humiliating situation.

“What? No!” Stavros looked a little shocked then pinched her round cheek. She did not like the feeling of his rough fingers on her face. “Waste of good meat!”

“You’re going to harvest my face too?” She was quite shocked.

“Face, arm, belly… All the same when its been through the mincer!” He patted her cheek and the teen felt her heart sink. Despite how many boys and men she was sure would have sold their grandmothers for a chance to see her naked, the man who now owned her body say it as nothing more than meat for his diners.

“How come the other two get to cook whole and I have to be chopped up?” she pouted. If she could not demand to be prepared the way she would like to, she could at least demand an explanation. This definitely did not feel like what she had signed on for!

“Ha!” Stavros laughed. “The little ones, they have nice little bodies with meat all over,” he explained, “but you have big meaty ass!” He laughed again and mimed squeezing a large bottom. “Thighs too! Great for steaks and chops! Trust me,” he grinned at her in a way that most people would have found winning and friendly but the mortified girl was in no mood to be won over, “Is the best thing for a body like yours! Noting wasted. You will make many people happy and fill a great many bellies!” He patted his own to illustrate this last point.

“Fine.” Adriana sighed, defeated. “Just get on with it, I guess.”

“Good.” Stavros replied, not looking at her but unrolling and inspecting a pouch of butcher’s knives and associated tools. He pulled out a wickedly sharp-looking cleaver. “I guess I should take your head off first.” He looked up to see her reaction. “Make it quick?”

The blonde gulped. This whole situation was starting to feel a little too real. Somehow, in her imagination, she had pictured being cooked more like a modelling job – showing off her body while she cooked and then… and then what? Certainly she knew she wouldn’t be able to simply shower off and go home afterwards but the idea that she would actually be cut up and consumed seemed to have not registered with her somehow. She knew it as an academic fact, for sure, yet in some way she had never truly allowed herself to understand it until faced with this moment.

“What’s the alternative?” She asked, falteringly. Stavros couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for her. Despite his profession and tendency towards slightly creepy and mean-spirited banter, he was not a cruel man. The way he saw things, both of them stood there is the makeshift kitchen area had a job to do – his was to prepare meat to feed his customers and hers was to provide that meat. He bore her no animosity and would take no particular pleasure in killing her, although he would not lose a moment’s sleep over it either. He simply wanted them both to get on with their jobs as quickly and efficiently as possible so he could more on to prepping the kebabs.

“If we were in my proper restaurant,” he explained, “I would hang you by your feet and make a cut in your pretty neck and let the blood drain out then take down and part your carcass. Easier that way. Cleaner. Less mess.”

“So you think my neck is pretty, at least?” Adriana asked a little sulkily. Stavros suddenly realised why the meat-girl had been behaving so coldly. He had assumed she had felt pressured into volunteering and what he was picking up on was her reluctance but it occurred to him that something more might be at play.

“Of course!” He smiled at her and stroked her pretty round face with the back of his hand. “You are very pretty girl, very pretty indeed! Quite a heartbreaker!” His disarming grin was a little more effective this time. “But you have to know I was not looking for a pretty girl, I was looking for meat. See,” he continued, “when some guys pick their meat they pick the girl they want to fuck which usually means they get plenty here,” he held her admittedly modest but nicely-shaped breasts as if weighing them, “but not too much the other places where it counts!” He patted her belly and thighs. They forget picking up food is different from picking up pussy in a night club and cheat themselves out of good meat!” Adriana admitted to herself that his words made sense. “So yes, you are pretty girl for sure,” he assured her, “but I picked you for your meaty ass, not your pretty face!”

The pretty blonde teen visibly relaxed and even smiled a little.

“So we are all good?” Stavros asked, “No more sulking?”

“Nope!” Adriana grinned at him almost cheekily. “No more sulking, I promise! Better get my meaty ass ready for the customers, huh? What do you need me to do?”

“Lay on the table, on your back.” Stavros instructed. Adriana, actually starting to feel a little excited now about her imminent conversion from popular teen girl to so much butchered meat, hopped up and laid back as instructed. The Greek slid a wooden chopping board under her slender neck and placed one heavy hand on her shoulder, holding her down. “Ready?” He asked, raising the cleaver, “I count to three! One, two,” he brought the blade down across her slender throat, catching her off guard as he had intended so as to avoid the panic girls often felt at the last second. Adriana felt a burning sensation in her neck for just a second then the sensation of falling, only to be stopped with a sudden jerk as Stavros caught hold of her blonde hair, preventing her head from hitting the floor.

“There.” He set her severed head on the table and spoke as much to himself as to her. Nobody had yet come up with any definitive answer as to how long girls continued to be conscious after beheading. From his own experience he knew that it was at least a few seconds, ten or twenty for sure, but some girls had seemed to keep reacting for up to a minute. He assumed it must be a very individual thing. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Can’t have your face meat hitting the floor and getting all bashed up, can we? What a waste that would be!” The last thing Adriana saw as her vision faded to blackness was Stavros taking on one the longest, thinnest blades from the set and slitting open her toned belly.

When the butchering was complete and all the meat neatly parted out and stored away in the fridge, Stavros returned to the front of the booth where the two younger girls were still waiting. He noticed that a small group of mostly men and younger boys, but the occasional woman too and even a couple of other naked meat-girls had gathered. He was pleased to see that his future kebabs were chatting away happily to the assembled potential customers with plenty of smiles and laughter on both sides. Clearly these two were not going to be as reluctant as their butchered friend.

“Sorry, ladies!” He clapped his hands together, “Didn’t want you to think I had forgotten about you. You seem to have drawn quite a crowd hungry for your meat, huh?” He grinned broadly, first at them then at those who had gathered to talk to them. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he addressed the small crowd, “I’m afraid it will be at least twenty minutes before any of their meat is ready to be served.” He stood behind the girls who were leaning slightly forward over the counter, reached down and grabbed their perky round behinds, one with each hand. The girls giggled and blushed a little. “But I promise you is fun to watch the show if you would like to stay! So,” he patted the girls on the shoulder so they turned to face him, “Who is going first?”

“I will!” Sandra stepped forward eagerly, her small tits bouncing a little as she moved. “I’m the oldest so its only fair!” Both of the younger girls were far keened on the prospect of becoming meat than Adriana had been. In fact, Sandra had had to take herself off the private menu list at her local Sidney’s in order to volunteer for the charity drive and Julie’s parents had been on the verge of agreeing to barbecue her in their own garden over the Summer when they had received the letter and suggested she may prefer to donate her meat to a good cause. Both were still a little nervous about the experience itself, of course, but that did not stop them feeling immensely excited about being cooked and incredibly proud that so many people were already looking forward to enjoying their meat!

“Very good, if you have no objections?” He glanced at Julie who smiled and waved her hand to indicated that it was fine and she should go ahead. “Now,” Stavros stroked his chin, “we could do this on the floor but then these good people wouldn’t be able to see so well, plus it would be tougher on my old back!” He pantomimed rubbing the base of his spine and the audience laughed. Stavros was clearly as good a host and showman as he was a cook. He disappeared into the back for a moment and returned with a folding table and a small set of steps which he set up in the space between the cooking station and the salad counter. Taking Sandra by the hand, he led her up the steps and had her stand on the table where she waved and blew kisses the the cheering onlookers.

With a grunt of effort, Stavros lifted one of the vertical spits free from its mount. It consisted of a broad, flat tray and a long, sharp spit rising up a little over a meter. He slid the tray between Sandra’s feet so that the tip of the spike was directly beneath her.

“Now all you need to do is kneel down!” Stravros instructed, “Let gravity do the work!”

Biting her lower lip in excitement, Sandra positioned herself over the spit and began to squat a little then eased her pussy lips aside to guide the sharp top of the spit in.

“Ooh!” she squealed on first contact with the metal, “It’s cold!”

“Don’t worry,” Stavors winked at the audience, “you’ll be warmed up soon enough!” Everybody laughed, including the two girls.

Gradually, Sandra eased herself lower and lower until the spit was right up inside her, as deep as her chest. The spike pushing its way through her body hurt like hell but the cold metal sliding through her pussy, rubbing against her clit as it passed, gave her more intense pleasure than she had ever felt before and soon the pain was all but forgotten, serving only to make the pleasure that more exquisite!

“Good girl.” Stavros spoke encouragingly, “Now tilt your head back and just let yourself sink the rest of the way.” Sandra did as she was told and the audience cheered and applauded as the tip of the spit emerged out of her mouth and she sunk right down onto her knees. Stavros secured her hands behind her back with some metal cord and set the now-occupied spit back in place. To the delight of the crowd, the process was then repeated with Julie, who put on even more of a show as she worked her way down the spit, lifting herself back up a few inches at a time to experience the feeling of her first and only penetration again and again. Eventually, ‘though, she too was mounted and both girls began to turn in front of the electric heat.

Twenty minutes later, Stavros cut the first meat from the barely still-living girls, a slice from each as requested, and served the first kebab of the day to an eagerly-waiting customer.

EPILOGUE

The ABI demonstration was a huge success with so many pre-orders that Kronos Kitchen Supplies not only agreed to buy the patent and manufacturing rights from Frank for £2.8 million but also hired him as their chief R&D engineer – a job that he could do largely from home in his own workshop under the watchful and supportive eye of Natasha’s mounted head. With the money from the sale and his generous ongoing salary, Frank and his two boys we able to live very comfortably, all thanks to Natasha’s generosity.

The Kyle twins were not, in fact, cooked that day. Once their duties as nude hostesses were carried out and, having extracted a promise that they would eventually be cooked, they agreed to go home with Mandy where they lived happily for three months until, to their great delight, (not to mention that of the guests) they were barbecued and served at a party to celebrate the massive bonuses Chris and Mandy had received for the ad campaign – on the double spit of course! Their mum went ahead with the memorial and it was indeed featured in the local press but, after amateur phone footage of her behaviour at the Expo was released and went viral, she became an absolute laughing stock and did not dare show her face in public for months afterwards.

The money raised by the Guides was donated to a charity which, with the help of more girls like them, was able to utterly eliminate deaths from starvation in the developing world over the five years that followed. But that is another story!

 No.17092

If you've enjoyed my stories over the last couple of weeks, do you have a favourite? I know at least three hinted at sequels to come and I do plan to return to these at some point!

 No.17095

>>17092
I can't choose, all your stories are epic!

 No.17096

Why, thank you! :-D Always nice to hear people enjoyed them. I wish this site had some sort of upvoting system like Reddit so I could get a feel for how many people are enjoying them :)

 No.17107

try on this site https://pastebin.com/u/robblu
the guy posted your story on the first page (maybe have to scroll a little) on the right you have a views counter… and btw… great story… in true dolcett spirit… cheers

 No.17108

Oh awesome - thank you! Looks like he's shared al my stuff so far and they're getting a fair number of hits!

Also, glad you like my work!

 No.17128

I am liking your stuff more and more. Thanks for posting. Hope to see more.

 No.17185

You should publish your stories on dolcettish.com or forum.dolcettgirls.com too. Maybe they require a little bit older girls. Shift the ages.

 No.17187

Thank you for the compliment! I think it would take too extensive a re-write 'though as a girl of 16 would think and behave quite differently to a girl of 10 or 11. Mind you, I've often thought Splyf's Trine and Christina were originally written younger then aged up a little to an acceptable age for most forums - to me they read about 14 but he usually says they're 16 apart from early ones where every girl is suddenly 18 which was clearly an edit as he writes as if various characters ages contrast (first was a girl their own age, then one around 18. The next girl could have been no more than 18… etc)

 No.17195

Yes, that's a classic trick. Like on literotica.com : in the introduction the girl is ALWAYS 18 or over. Later in the story she come home from elementary school or she's a freshman in high school and it doesn't bother anyone. Including the admins. Maybe you don't have to rewrite your stories just don't mention the ages explicitly. I think they would be happy to welcome you.

 No.17198

I could always just say they're set in a parallel world where everybody is functionally immortal and nobody ages physically or emotionally beyond 50 but it takes them three times as long to get there as it does in our world! That makes the little twins in this story about 35! :-P

 No.17199

>>17198
Or just make them all elves. Then everything is fine. Elf-meat festival!

 No.17213

Onix, this one might be more your cup of tea?

 No.17222

>>17213
Yeah, I will definitely read this later.
Your stories kinda inspired me to write my own "parody" of your universe, even if I do not write anymore but do 3D instead. So it will be either just plain story or story with few illustrations. Maybe you will like it too, even if it will be quite horribly disgusting but should be funny and extremely unconventional ;)

Now it is even problematic to read because when I try to read what you write my fantasy drives it to another direction ;)

I will say something more when I will finish this story, but it looks fucking huge and may take some time :) how long did it take for you to write?

Something about characters age: >>17195
funny enough Dolcett women are actually 3 years old according to the original narrative but it does not bother anyone for some reason
I have the same problem, because I also like this childish behavior and adult characters doing such things are a bit strange.
but I think unfortunately all those manipulations with age will not work.

 No.17225

Hmm I don't quite remember - I think I wrote it over the course of two days but might have been three. A lot of it depends how much "down time" I get and whether I'm alone or not!

Yeah I remember reading "A Dolcett Future History" where it's explained that women age ten times faster than men but I always found that a little implausible, I prefer the "quarters" approach a lot of writers have gone for - seems to ring a little more true somehow.

Can't wait to see what you come up with - actually I was looking at some of the 3D renders on this site earlier and wishing someone would adapt my stories!

Have you found the rest of my work? I think I have, let me see, five threads now that are either single stories or grouped collections? You might have fun with "Jessica's Greatest Performance" - it's a nice simple, short story that would be easy enough to render for someone who knows what they're doing! :-)

 No.17246

Well, this story was not as good as Sidney's thread. This interleaved story format was a bit too distracting. It was a bit too hard to track everything. and I suspect that it was a bit hard for you to write it as well ;)

I read "Jessica's Greatest Performance" but I actually could only enjoy it the most reading second time for some reason.
rendering it in 3d may be possible but even if the story is very short, it may have a bit too many characters for the simple job. Maybe it could be done in the photo album format focusing on the Jessica only, using your text as commentary.
If you are interested to see it illustrated I can do it but in that case, we should meet on discord to discuss details because it is more fun to work that way than doing it alone.

 No.17253

Fair enough - the anthology format was to keep things fresh for me as a writer :) Have you found "Sacrificing Sophie" and "Beyond Sidney's"? :)

 No.17256

>>17253
Yes I found them but it will take some time to finish everything. :)



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