Liv walked away from the reception desk and down the hall toward Suite 1056 - per her instructions - while absent-mindedly rubbing her arm just below the shoulder where she'd received the injection a moment earlier. Her raven black hair flowed unrestrained, tucked behind her fair, white ears, and slightly lifted by her gait.
Not long ago, she wouldn't have expected to be doing this. Back when cannibalism was first legalised nation-wide, about a decade ago, it was all the rage for young people to go off to the butcher. Any occasion worth celebrating would have a feast, courtesy of a friend or family member, or sometimes just a person who'd done it for the experience. Now, though, with most of the willing population gone, and meat demand supplied by prisons, there weren't a lot of people doing it any more.
Liv had made up her mind about a month ago. Her boyfriend's birthday would be tomorrow, and having been stuck in constant unemployment for the last 8 months left her at a loss for the funds to buy something she considered suitably extravagant. Then she'd seen an internet post detailing someone's DIY roasting of their teenage daughter. The recipe and final product had looked delicious, and seeing it convinced her of her course of action. However, she wasn't going to be able to cook herself, and her boyfriend was far from competent in the kitchen, so she'd called the meat processing plant just out of town to ask if they'd do a custom order for cheap if the meat was supplied. They'd graciously complied.
And now, here she was, walking to the hall to - the nice older lady at the front desk told her - be gutted, before heading out to the kitchen. The injection she'd been given acted as a pain-killer and inhibited her body's natural tendency to repair wounds in order to ensure she'd remain alive and fresh for as long as possible. Already, she could feel a pleasntly light sensation creeping up from her extremities.
Reaching the end of the long front hallway, Liv looked to her right to see the room she was looking for; a painted steel door with a thin, frosted-over window like all the rest. Straight ahead of her in the hall were the large, stainless-steel double doors that lead, industrial kitchen - she could hear the muffled whirring of dozens of machines, the bustle of factory workers, and the hiss of steam from just beyond. Not to long from now, she'd be in there, to be handled and fire-roasted. Just a big piece of meat.
She turned to the door with the little numbers "1056", her blue eyes wide as a thrill of anticipation and fear made her heart speed up a bit in her chest. Timidly, she decided to knock, rather than barge in.
"Door's not locked," came the reply from the other side.
Okay then, Liv thought, steeling herself, and walked in. The room was fairly large, like an office space, it was well- but warmly-lit, had a high, drop-tile ceiling, and an epoxied tile floor, except for one area - in the center of the room on the side opposite the door - that formed a shallow (maybe 6"), stainless steel basin, about 6 feet accross and square, under a truss that was vaguely "X" shaped. Being the only piece of industrial-looking equipment in the room, Liv figured she knew what that was for. At the edge of the basin was a long steel table with a few tools on it, and, beyond that, in the far corner of the room, opposite a few filing cabinets, was a large, cluttered desk with a friendly-looking man peering over the top of a pair of computer monitors.
"Hello, hello," he spoke, standing up and starting to walk around his desk, "I don't believe I've seen you before, you can call me Mark.
"What have you got for me?" he asked as he reached her after making the short trek accross the room, and held out his hand to shake - or maybe to take some paperwork from her - he seemed friendly, but a little awkward. Maybe late thirties, with dark brown hair; slightly balding, and a with a soft face. Not exactly the sort of person Liv had imagined as a butcher of human beings. In fact, he seemed like a regular guy.
She shook his hand, assuming the former, and introduced herself, "Hi, I'm Liv. I... I'm here to be gutted..?" she added hesitantly.
For a moment Mark's face flashed from confusion to surprise, then he smiled again. "Well, nice to meet you Liv. I thought for sure you were bringing this month's throughput audit paperwork - the blasted monotony that is. This is certainly a nice surprise. I don't see many consensuals these days, and they're usually just vital-organ donors that don't want the rest of the meat to got to waste."
"I just thought I'd make a good birthday present for my boyfriend... I... didn't have much cash to spare," Liv replied, finding herself a bit shy in the face of the butcher's joviality.
"Well, I can assure you you'll be right on that count," he told her, eyeing her up and down, "and it'll be a nice change of pace for me. The others who come through here these days are usually unconsolable. It takes a lot out of you, dealing with their wailing and fighting. It's like butchering wild animals all day. We often have to just kill them here just to get them to the kitchen."
"But don't worry, I used to do a lot of consensuals, and they never found the processing objectionable. Some even enjoyed it."
"I'm glad to hear that," Liv replied, "I'm not really sure what to expect, and I'm a little nervous."
"Oh, don't worry, dear. I'd probably be pretty nervous too, in your position - it's not every day you get your guts cut out and cooked for food - but there's no need to be. Your pain response has been almost entirely suppressed, and I'll talk you through every step of the way.You can even help me if you want to. Would you like that?"
"Yeah, I would," she said. Her heart fluttered. She was excited, and more out of interest than fear. "How does this work?"
"It's pretty simple, really. I'll cut you open from your asshole to just below your sternum, and carefully remove all the parts you don't need in order to live for the next few hours, then we'll get you cleaned out and send you down to the kitchens. Sound good?"
"I guess so. I did sign up for this, after all."
"If you're not comfortable with it, I can just cut your head off and do the rest while you're dead."
"No way! I'm not spending all this money just to miss out on the experience of it!"
"Haha! That's a good attitude to have," Mark said, "Shall we begin then?"
"Well, no time like the present. It's not like I have other plans."
"Okay, first I'm gonna need you to strip down. At least out of your jeans and panties. It'd be hard to slice you open with them on."
"Oh, right... okay," Liv was not someone who was accustomed to being naked around other people. She'd only had sexual relationships a couple of times, and didn't go into them lightly. As such, she had only ever stripped for those guys and a few doctors through the years. Mark in his business clothes and this clean, bright office didn't make things less awkward.
Mark chuckled, "I can turn my back whie you get undressed if you like, but I'm going to have to see your pussy - and a lot more - when I do this."
Liv nodded and gave him a dry smirk. She unbuttoned her jeans, and, slipping her thumbs into the lining of her panties, pulled them down together, then stepped out. Her perfect little pale pussy was glistening with moisture of excitement; no surprise given the immediate future she was contemplating.
"You can put your pants on the table, you might still want to use them after you're gutted. The wait for the kitchens can take a while, and the waistband will help you stand up better when your abs are in two parts. Plus, having a 2 foot hole in you gets cold pretty fast, I'm told."
"So I'll just be able to walk out of here and go about business as usual until I get called to the kitchens?"
"Pretty much. You should stay in the building, but you won't be missing anything that will debilitate you. Most girls will just sit in the lobby and read magazines, although when we used to get pary groups, they'd like to experiment with each others' new bodies."
"That sounds fun. Too bad I won't get to do that," Liv said, absentmindedly fingering herself with the hand she had been using to instictually cover her privates, already forgetting her current state of exposure. "Now what?"
"Hop right up on the rack. I'll get these out of your way," he said, pushing the arm restraint bars up and out of the way, "I don't think you'll be fighting with me."
Mark reached out his hand, as though to help her into a car. She took it and stepped onto one of the small foot-platforms, then twisted around and put her other foot on the other. He snapped the restraints in place around her ankles, then adjusted her so that her legs were open a little wider, almost 90 degrees.
"Okay, then. First I'll start by cutting out your asshole so I can tie up your colon and things stay nice and tidy." Mark picked up a hand drill with what looked like a tall, very fine-toothed hole-saw attachment on the end from the table. He flipped a switch on the side, and immediately the drillbit started to emenate heat, slowly starting to glow a faint orange.
"These tools all get hot enough to cauerize the wounds. That way you won't bleed out."
"That's comforting," Liv stated dryly, "Not that I plan on living long after this."
"You'll taste better if you're still alive when you start to cook. Hell, with that injection they give you, you could live for a day or two, even with your whole body cleaned out. Back when this was popular, some of 'them would go home to get cooked by their friends."
Liv chuckled at that, "My boyfriend can barely handle toast, I'm not sure I'd want to know what would happen if I had him cook me."
The drillbit was now a uniform soft red. "Alright, Liv, this is ready to go, grab your cheeks and spread 'em for me," Mark said as he took up a position behind her.
She complied, and heard a quiet electric whirring start up. Moments later the most peculiar feeling hit her from where her asshole should have been, now oddly out-of-place. It was warm, but it came with a tugging sensation, then progressed inward until she could feel a pressure in the base of her body.
The whirring stopped and she felt a pull and then a release as the hot metal exited her body. What followed resembled the sensation of pooping to her floor-muscles, but was far stranger to the region that was now distinctly clear as her intestines.
"Here we go," Mark said, "I'll come around front so you can see what I'm doing."
Liv looked on in fascination as the butcher walked around her, then reached between her legs and pulled forth a couple of feet of pale red lower intestine. At the end of it was her anal sphincter, which Mark promptly cut off. He held it out for her to take.
"Here's your asshole, in case you ever wondered what it looked like fro the other side... and incase you want to 'kiss your ass goodbye'"
Liv took hold of it, turning it over in her hands as Mark stretched and tied the end of her colon like the lip of a balloon - or maybe a sausage was a more appropriate analogy. The sphincter was loose, but still had an intriguing elasticity to it. She worked her thumb in and out of it a few times, wondering at the fact that this had been part of her a few seconds ago. When she was done, she lifted it to her lips, smirking slightly, then held it out and dropped it onto the closed trapdoor below. At the same time, Mark finished his work on her intestines and dropped them as well. She felt several more feet slip out the large hole between her legs. It was surprisingly arousing.
At that moment, the door to the room opened. Mark started to stand up, and Liv's hands instctively dropped to cover her vagina, forgetting what she was in the middle of. Two women walked in, one rather large - both in girth and stature - and wearing a police uniform. The other was a girl who couldn't have been much over twenty. She was thin and had long, ragged dark-blonde har that was pulled into a rough pony-tail, but still managed to fall in her face. She was clearly distressed, with tears still wet on her face.
"This one's in for her fourth count of robbery, the stupid bitch," the cop spoke, reaching for her briefcase to extract some papers, "I'll leave her processing up to you, but I don't think she's worth much other than parts. Eating too much of her might endanger somebody's intelligence."
While Mark and the policewoman conversed, Liv's hands, still over her crotch, moved back in to her pussy. She massaged it, gently at first, then went all in, reveling in the novelty of the situation, and knowing that this would probably be the last time she ever got to masturbate. As she went, she brought one hand back to where her anus had been a few moments ago. She ran it up and down the soft, somewhat slimy, but silky tube of her intestine that now exended down to a small pile on the floor, enjoying the feeling that her body insisted should have been in her bosom, then moved her fingers up into the freshly cauterised hole. Mark had expertly maneuvered the drill to just bypass her vaginal canal, whose wall was now exposed. She rubbed its outside with one hand as the fingers on her other carressed its inside. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before. After what could have been seconds or hours, she came violently. Now a bit more aware of her surroundings again, she looked up, removing her hands from herself - she felt a several more inches of intestine slide out as she did - and saw Mark thanking the police woman - Margaret, apparently - and taking the cuffed girl over to one of several spots on the wall beside the door with built-in manacles that Liv hadn't noticed when she came in.
"Now, Miranda," he told the girl, "I can tell you from this point on, you're pretty much dead. You can suck it up and handle what comes next, maybe even enjoy it like Liv over" Mark gestured to her, "or you can keep blubbering and wailing like a baby, and I'll see to it that the process is far lesss enjoyable."
Her only response was a pitiful wail followed by sobbing as her legs gave out from under her, leaving her effectively hanging from the manacles on her wrists.
"Fine with me," Mark replied, and took the fileting knife that had been heating in his hand and stabbed the center of her throat. Immediately the sound from her changed into a hissing gurgle as he vocal cords were rendered useless. He then forced her jaw down and swiftly removed her tongue, tossing it over toward he basin over which Liv was suspended.
Liv felt a little bad for the girl - she was just a stupid kid, after all - but it wasn't like she hadn't had a chance to turn herself around, and without people like her there'd be no convenient way for others to get human meat.
Mark walked back over to her. As he reached the basin, he used his foot to consolidate Miranda's tongue and Liv's anus with the pile of her intestines, all neatly wrapped up under her.
"Sorry about that inturreption and... unpleasantness. You can see what our usual fare here is like," he said.
"It's okay, I took a momen to enjoy the delay," she replied, grinning.
Mark laughed, "So I see," he said, running his thumb over her moistened pussy. He sucked the residue off his finger.
"Okay, ready for the fun part?"
"Yes sir! Get that knife all up in me," Liv answered, her enthusiasim actually surprising her a little. She'd been nervous not so long ago hadn't she?
"Here we go then. I'll be going slow so that I don't mess up any of your organs. You won't be needing them, but they're valuable on their own."
Mark got back down behind her again, and inserted the fileting knife into the hole in her ass. He spent a moment angling it and finding the correct depth, then began gently sawing forward.
"I'm going to split your vagina now. I'm told this part can be love-it-or-hate-it. After that I'm going to cut through your urethra and then free up your meat away from the front of your pelvis. I'll try to leave your clit intact, though."
"Okay, I'm ready." Liv took in a breath as the knife came through the lower wall of her vaginal canal, then slid up, starting to fuck her as it began cutting into the top wall. The process was definiely "love it" for her. She came again quickly as the vaginal wall split and the knife began sliding further up, slicing the flesh dividing her vagina and urethra.
"I see you're enjoying this," Mark chuckled.
"Yes," Liv gasped, "More."
"Ask and you shall recieve." He dragged the knife up at an angle, just singing her clit, and she felt her bladder let go completely.
"Whoa," she said as the feeling took her by surprise. She started to instinctively reach down to stop the flow, but caught herself, flicking her hands dry.
"Doesn't the pee contaminate the meat?" she asked as her bladder continued to drain, still restricted by her now very short urethra.
"Nah. If you're healthy enough to eat then your piss is very clean. And we spray down everything anyway."
The flow of pee tricked to an end, and the puddle drained through a screen in the trapdoor. Now Mark took the knife and stabbed it in deep, a couple inches above her clit and the end of the gash he'd already made. Liv felt it hit the front of her pelivs and rotate around it, back and forth. Then he pulled it out, and performed a similar maneuver on the front, before setting the knife down, and using his hands to separate the meat from side to side, far enough that she could see bone and feel the musclular connections tearing. With most of the nerves in her vagina and labia still firing, she could feel his rough grip tearing her most intimate area apart.
"That there is your pubic symphysis. It's the joint that would expand if you were going to have a baby."
"No need for that anymore then." Liv gripped it and played for a bit, pulling and pushing on it. It didn't feel like much, but she got the novel feeling of torque being applied through her whole crotch to her spine.
"Nope, but I'm not going to separate it so you have an easier time standing when we're done."
He took her shirt, and lifted it to tuck into her bra between her breasts, then gripped the knife again and began pulling it up from the now wide-open gash, a bit faster now, the knife only in her a couple of inches as he brought it up through her pubic mound toward her navel. Liv reached her hands under her ass cheeks and slipped her fingers into the gash between her legs as he worked. Her skin and muscle was split from the end of her tailbone, all the way up her front. She could feel her own viscera inside the gash.
"Here," Mark said as he reached a point just below her sternum and removed the knife. "Look," he said, taking hold of one of the now loose flaps of muscle, fat, and skin that had been her belly. As he did, Liv felt her innards slip forward and down, and could now see their smooth, red and pink shapes bulging out the slit that ran up her body. Mark twisted the lining in his hand, so she could see its profile, "here you've got an almost perfect ratio of fat and muscle. That's what you look for in a roast, since the fat provides the moisture and taste. Too little, and you'll be dry and tough, too much, and it'd be hard to cook you right without burning."
"That's great," Liv remarked, "I'm glad I'll be getting my money's worth. What's next?"
"First I need to cut and tie your esophagus so we don't get spillage from that end, then I can cut out most of your organs at once."
"Okay, go ahead."
"As you wish." Mark took what looked like a zip-tie from the table and reached into her body. She felt his hands below her heart, then a feeling like mild heartburn. He grabbed the knife again and reached it into her. The burn was replaced with the same dull sort of ache as the rest of her felt, and Liv felt her organs shift again. Now Mark took the knife and started scraping the sides of her abdominal cavity, like ceaning a pumpkin. She felt it going up and down inside her, first on her left, then her right, then he reached further in and around the cluster of organs in her bosom and she felt the knife scraping along her back and running along the muscles surrounding her spine. For the dozenth time today, it was like nothing she'd ever felt before. As he went, she felt her insides coming loose and saw, first her stomach and liver, then a wad of other organs fall out and down from her belly. As the last glob fell down, she felt a tug on deepest portion of her vagina. Pulling her belly apart to see better, she could see her empy abdominal cavity. Her vaginal canal had flipped out and partialy inside-out and now hung from between her wide-apart pussy lips, suspending her internal sex organs and several others by structural muscle. Mark promptly cut it off at the end of the incision from earlier, allowing it to fall to the floor and rendering Liv's front entirely split.
"I've always wanted to try a raw overy. Can you give me one of mine?" she asked, eager to take in this once in a liftetime - once in her lifetime, at least - opportunity.
"I'm not really supposed to let you, but since you're willing meat, I don't think they'll mind." He knelt down and pulled her former reproductive system out from the pile of viscera on the floor. It was hard for Liv to believe that the red blob of guts had been part of her jus moments ago - and she was still alive! Feeling empty, but still fit.
Mark sliced one of the ovaries out of its connective tissues and off of its fallopian tube. He took it and handed it to her. "Bon apetit."
Liv took it in her hand as Mark watched. She turned it over and felt it; it was larger than she'd expeced, and surprisingly firm. She put it in her mouth and sucked on it, turning it over on her tongue and savouring the salty, metallic taste of blood. She positioned it between her teeth, feeling i deform under them, almost like rubber, before biting down, crushing it almost in two. The taste was surprisingly sweet, and the texture reminded her of an uncooked mushroom. Rather than chewing it up, Liv decided t swallow what remained whole. It entered her throat, and she felt it descent into her, but seconds later, she felt it bounce off the inside of her right pussy lips, before looking down to see it land back in the blob of guts from which it came, now looking like a grape that had been gripped between pliers, two ovoid halves barely held together by a few strands of tissue.
"Alright then, that's everything out. Now just to dump it," he said, pressing the release on the trapdoor. Liv watched, mouth agape in amazement and a twinge of self-aware horror as everything she needed to continue living for anything more than a few hours of borrowed time fell and slid away to the kitchens.
"Whoa ... Yeah, I'm good," she answered after a short pause.
"Okay, I'm going to use a torch to make sure you don't have any continued bleeding inside, then I'll spray you out with some cleaner and you'll be good to go."
"Right. Let's do this."
"That's the spirit," Mark said, brandishing a small propane torch. He left the trapdoor below open and leaned on the frame to which Liv was strapped.
"Hold your belly open again?"
Liv complied and he put the torch inside, then began methodically moving it up and down her abdominal walls, applying just enough heat to sear their surface without cooking any meat. Thanks to the drug, Liv felt this like a large, warm paintbrush moving up and down, slightly shifting some of the aching that had resulted from the knife's use. It was actually quite a nice feeling.
Before too long, Mark finished his work, exinguished the torch, and stepped back. He opened the table's cabinets and pulled a length of hose out.
"Keep yourself spread," he said, then unleashed a cool spray into her. Liv laughed as she felt that cold tickle like she had just jumped into cold water, but it permeated far deeper than that. Mark angled the spray up into her diaphragm, and she briefly lost her breath, regaining it shortly. When he sprayed down the outside of her slit, she was surprised to still fell arousal when the water hit her halved vulva.
Mark finished his spraying with cleaning the basin, then shut the trapdoor.
"Here, you can dry yourself with this," he said, producing a bath-towel from the cabinet.
Liv took it, then, with a larger than expected amount of difficulty - due, she realised, to the new lack of rigidity in her abs - lifted her body from the frame she'd been resting on. She dried herself as usual, before reaching the towel inside and gingerly sopping up the water from her interior. She pulled the towel out between her legs and handed it back to Mark, who was undoing the straps on her ankles.
He finished unstrapping her, and she stepped carefully off the rack. Now holding herself up on her own for the first time since she had anything inside her, the new lack of weight was immediately apparent.
"I feel like I'm floating. I'm so light."
"Because you are! It's what happens when you're hollow. If you weigh much more than 70 pounds now, I'd be very surprised. Just be careful, you'll have some trouble balancing. I'd hate for you to bruise the meat."
He was right on that count. As well as the fact that she wasn't used to needing to exert so little force, her weakened abs made certain corrections harder than they should be, and her legs didn't want to come together very well. She stumbled a bit as she walked a few steps to lean on the table.
"Putting your jeans back on will help you, since the seams will hold you together a little more."
Liv picked up her clothes that were still folded neatly on the table. Out of habit, she stepped into her panties first. When she pulled them up, however, the futility of the action became apparent as their crotch pulled straight into the hole between her legs.
"Oh. Huh. Whatever," she thought, leaving them with their waist around where her belly button was sliced in half, the crotch section wrapped around her pubic joint and exiting her at the tailbone.
Next, Liv pulled on her jeans. As she buttoned them up, she took a momentary intrest in the fact that she cold put her arm into her belly and reach the inside of the fabric between her legs. She pulled her arm back out, running the left part of her flesh between her fingers as she did - it still gave her a pulse of pleasure as she passed her labia and briefly fingered her very exposed clit. Finally she reached up and untangled her shirt from her bra, letting it drop to cover any evidence that she was little more than a walking pocket, split almost in half.
Mark walked over to his computer and hi a button to activate a little Zebra printer beside it. It spat out a slip of paper, which he handed to Liv.
"The kitchen's been notified you're ready to go, they'll call your number when they get to you. There's a waiting room in the lobby... unless you want to help me out with this one..," he gestured to the girl hanging from the wall.