Posted by jackh on October 29, 2006 at 05:19:31:
Melissa blinked awake. She was cold and it was dark. They had loosened her ties just enough to allow her to rise on her elbows, which she did. She made out the cart beside her and on it the still form of Bambi. She was nude, she realized, which accounted for her shivers. The simple fact that they hadn't bothered to give her a sheet reminded her as much as the binds that she was barely a person. She was livestock now like the others, unless Bob Burns found a substitute.
"Oh, yes. Well, let's keep our fingers crossed about that," Lorraine had said, soothing Melissa's brow as the meat girl was fluttering off to sleep.
Melissa sighed, falling back on the cart. Whatever they had given her to make her sleep hadn't worn off. Woozily, the images returned - the hanging meat girls, the remains of a butchered redhead swaying its limbless torso from a meathook by the chopping block, Henri applying his cleaver, Felix skinning the Texas blonde, Lorraine's and David's giddy faces. She moaned into the soundless space of the kitchen and tried to collect herself.
She remembered that they had started the stew in two huge vats. The burners must have been turned off for the night for she couldn't hear the stew cooking, but she could smell it and, mmmmm, it was going to be good. God, why was she hungry? Where had the fear gone? Oh, there it was! Slumbering, like she had been. She heard something not far from her, then a voice.
"Are you awake?"
"What? Yes. Who is that?'
A figure appeared by the cart. I'm the guard here tonight. They made me be the guard."
"Oh."
"I....Im going to get you out of here, you and the other two. I'm going to rescue you. Shhhhhh, just do what I say."
His name was Jeremy, he said. He was twenty years old, the son of a couple from one of the clubs. He'd attended a few roasts and thought them exciting, until now. Melissa and the other girls were beautiful. They deserved to be saved and he was inspired to save them.
"You want to atone and save your soul," Melissa whispered. She understood perfectly. Her heart went out to the young man for his bravery and goodness as much as it pounded in hopeful relief for her own worldly salvation.
"Yeah," said Jeremy.
He untied Melissa and together they woke up Bambi and the lap dancer.
"We need some fucking clothes," Bambi whispered when the girls huddled with Jeremy to hear the plan.
It was three o'clock, Jeremy told them, and the hall was empty. Everyone had gone to the rooms on the floor below. They would take the elevator to one floor below that where Jeremy had stashed clothes for them behind the vending machines.
"I couldn't get any shoes, but I found these," he said.
The girls felt the footwear in the darkness.
"Knee boots!," said Bambi. Her throat hurt.
"I found a bunch of them in the utility closet out there. Don't know what they were doing there but what the hell."
"Yeah, what the hell," muttered Bambi, pulling on the boots. Melissa and the lap dancer put theirs on. Surprisingly, the boots weren't a bad fit.
Jeremy pushed open the door and the foursome tiptoed into the blackness of the hall. Melissa felt the vast space around her. She tingled all over.
"I can't believe this!," she whispered.
"I know it," whispered the lap dancer.
"Be quiet," said Jeremy.
Melissa listened nervously to the boots, wishing they didn't squeak so much. She was in the midst of adjusting her step when the lights came on. A heart-stopping roar erupted. It riveted the girls. Their jaws fell as they took in the homemade grandstand, its rows filled with hooting, cheering, laughing people.
"Its a fucking trick!," came Bambi's horse cry.
Melissa swayed on her feet, trying to take in the new nightmare she had entered. Her fears were not allayed when she observed across from the grandstand, near the entrance doors to the hall, a snow fence tied to stanchions that formed a kind of pen and within it, unmistakably, stood a gallows.
The doors opened then and dogs raced in, yipping and yapping and making a bee-line for the meat girls.
Melissa stood as if rooted to the floor in her black boots until the dogs were almost upon her. Then she yelped and bolted for the kitchen. She hadn't gone more than a few yards when two dogs cut her off. She swerved and ran toward the still open doors of the hall. Was it possible she could get through and...escape?
Bambi and the lap dancer had the same desperate thought. The meat girls sprinted together, but the dogs got ahead of them and turned them back. The girls scattered, as if for their lives, a squealing trio of flapping arms and bobbing tits while the dogs nipped at the booted legs and the audience howled in delight.
The place the girls least wished to go was the pen with its fearsome scaffold, yet it was obvious that this was where the dogs were herding them, and the gap was narrowing. Near the end, Melissa scooted around the snow fence only to come face to snarling jaws with one of her pursuers. She tried to stop but her boots slid on the polished floor and she fell.
"Oh God!," she gasped. She flailed her legs at the beast as it snapped at her, finally biting into one of her boots. She kicked back and the dog toppled, giving her a moment to scramble to her feet. She was surrounded. Her frantic gaze caught sight of Bambi and the lap dancer. They were inside the pen, driven there it appeared by dogs that stood guard at the entrance. The girls crouched together, peering through the fence slats at Melissa, who realized the game was over.
"All right, all right," she whimpered.
Tears streaked her cheeks as she trotted beside her escorts around the fence, pleasing the crowd with her bouncing boobs and wiggling ass, and entered the pen.
"Well, wasn't that great!," boomed the voice of the moderator over the loud system. The audience quieted, expecting more. "What would a fair be without a few events like that one, right folks!? Let's have a hand for those dogs! Well, I don't have to tell you that the best part's still to come."
The windows at the end of the hall were now stripped of the black sheets that had draped them, letting sunlight in. Startled, Melissa looked at the clock above the grand stand. Almost six thirty. Jeremy had fooled them about everything. Good grief, she realized - it was...time.
Through the main doors of the hall, a portable counter rolled in, pushed by Jeremy and another boy. The counter had a sink and tools for a chef. Hoses trailed behind it. Two other boys followed wheeling a pair of steel drums on pushcarts and following them came two shirtless men in black tights and black hoods each accompanied by a nude young girl. The girls looked like teenage twins, slim and pretty, with perky tits. The girls grinned and waved at the crowd. In all, it seemed to Melissa like the approach of a frightful circus act.
"Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, we are about to begin our next demonstration," the moderator practically whispered, letting the mere inflection of his voice convey the excitement his announcement merited.
Many delegates had requested a hanging, he went on. Well, why not? Following that event there would be a stuffing demonstration of the hanged girl, then a nice breakfast buffet while the girls were back in the kitchen receiving their final preparations. By the time breakfast was over, all three would be in the ovens.
A drum roll sounded. One of the hooded men crossed to the cowering girls, picked up the lap dancer with one arm and brought her to the scaffold, mashing her tits against his chest as he carried her. He held the trembling girl while the other hood looped a rope around her neck. The grinning twins each took an end of the rope and stepped back from the lap dancer until both ends went taught. Then a noose went over the first rope and the girl was hoisted. Her legs kicked in the air. She arched a stream of pee. The twins pulled hard on their rope ends. The lap dancer's face turned a shade of purple as her eyes bugged and her tongue fell out.
Melissa fainted.
When she came to, Lorraine was smiling down at her.
"Where am I?"
"In the kitchen, of course. You're on the counter, honey. Felix will be here in a minute."
Tears welled. "That was awful what you did!"
"What, the dogs?"
"Yes! You said I was going to be special and that people would, I don't know, respect me, and then they did that to us, and that poor girl, oh my God."
"Oh, honey, it was just a little fun we were having. Don't worry. People do respect you. They think you're a wonderful girl. They can't wait to see you...at the reception. Oh, I think Felix is coming for you now."
Felix's white apron was spattered in red in contrast to his fresh pair of surgical gloves. Melissa felt a lift at his arrival. She couldn't imagine why she would see this man as a friend, but she did. Nor was she cross that he carried a knife. It was his job. When Felix laid the knife next to her on the counter she felt like smiling at him, but she wasn't molified yet, so she pouted and made a show of avoiding his eyes.
"She's a little upset about the dogs and whatever," Lorraine explained.
"Ahhhh. Henri stuffed that one, don't blame Felix," he said absently. He was sizing up Melissa's stomach.
"I won't blame you. But it was mean of them to let those dogs chase us, like we were sheep!" Melissa tried to make her feelings known without letting Felix think she blamed him.
"Well, dear, you are a little bit like a sheep. I mean, you are going to be cooked, you know," Lorraine said, deciding that it was time to put away any lingering hope of a different outcome.
Melissa didn't want to talk to Lorraine or listen to her either. She looked up at Felix, wondering if he might be interested in pleasuring himself again with her Miss America tits.
"I was supposed to be just a role-play person," she said, sweetly. She wiggled just enough to sway the tits in question.
"You give her the shot?"
"I did, a few minutes ago. She was out like a light, " Lorraine said.
"Oh, that's why I feel like this!," Melissa giggled. She didn't know what was in the shot but she had seen its effects on young women in her position. "See, I'm not a hysterical meat girl," she laughed.
"Nope. Your'e a great girl. I heard about your role-play. Checked it out after you told me. Glad you realize you're not a role-play any more. Going to be a roast for sure. Going to put you in that first oven over there."
Melissa turned her head to see. Men were at the oven, doing something with the door. She realized they were replacing it with a new door that had a bigger window than the doors on the other ovens. Across from one of the ovens, Melissa saw the lap dancer lying face up on a cart. Stuffing blimped the girl's stomach. Her hair was gone and she was covered in a baste that gave her smooth flesh an oven ready shine. Except for the welts on her neck, Melissa had never seen the pretty thing look yummier.
"For the TV, you know," Felix said. The door had just arrived. It should be ready for its inaugural entrant when she was ready and that would be soon, had to be very soon if the center roast was going to make it to the banquet table on time.
"Where's Bambi?"
"Henri's dressing her up in the back kitchen," Felix murmured, declining to mention that the bossman and new girlfriend were there, enjoying the show and each other. He ran a hand along Melissa's outer thigh and up her side. Melissa sighed, unaware as ever that Felix's interest in her was as a chef and nothing else. Though she liked Henri, Melissa felt that if she had to be dressed up, she wanted Felix to do it. Perhaps there would be other things he would do with her. She sighed again. Why wouldn't he look at her breasts and see how her nipples were standing up so sweetly for him.
Felix turned, lowering his arm. Melissa thought the chef was opening his fly. Her nipples twinged. But Felix put the knife in her, not his cock. It started at her navel and sliced cleanly to her ribs. Melissa gasped without breath to scream and when she did scream, or started to, Lorraine was ready with a new gag, one made of fruit.
"It'll only hurt for a little while, dear," Lorraine said, thinking Melissa looked immeasurably cute with the pared Granny Smith stretching her anguished
mouth.
The former role-play girl strained at her ties. Her appled head twisted on the cart. Felix ignored his roast's distress. He finished opening her up and went to work or the insides. One of the kitchen boys came over with a pail. The boy held it up to receive the contents of Melissa's tummy that Felix hauled out after snipping here and snipping there to loosen things up.
Lorraine pushed up Melissa's head, allowing the meat girl to watch her stomach being emptied.
"No, do her hair," Felix barked.
"Yes, sorry," Lorraine muttered. Why did chefs have to be all business and no fun?
It had happened too fast. Jarred from her tranquilized state, Melissa worked her mouth against the apple, trying desperately to dislodge it so that she could plead with them to put her parts back. It could be done, she thought, if Felix hadn't taken out too much. Of course she had no idea what too much was. She felt the razor on her eyebrows and the tweezers in her nostrils, making it all but impossible for her to breathe. She pulled her ankles and wrists against the binds and all the while, Felix hummed a tune and sewed her up without regard to the small movements of her protest, and Lorraine finished with the shaving and the clipping, and when they were through and Melissa still struggled to get free, the kitchen boys lifted her up and carried her to a roasting pan.
The pan was a tray with rounded edges. The boys put Melissa on her back so that her legs overlapped onto the counter. Felix came to oversee the basting. When it was done and Melissa glistened from head to toe, the boys bent her legs back and tied the bound ankles to her bound wrists. She fit nicely now.
And she had given up.
A few feet away, in a sports jacket and slacks, the moderator spoke into a microphone before a man holding a television camera. He was speaking to a crammed grandstand that saw him on a screen on the other side of the hall.
Melissa watched him, thinking he had a funny mouth. The mouth went up and down talking about her. She felt a prick in her shoulder. It was Felix giving her another shot. She wondered vaguely what it was for and went back to listening to the moderator. In the hubbub of the kitchen, it was hard to make out everything he was saying. Two ovens down, the door opened. Melissa felt a surge of heat. Four boys lifted a covered stainless steel bin and eased it inside.
"And there goes number three, ladies and gentlemen, your first one in. Any second now, number two, the pink, will go and then, yes, the moment we've all been waiting for..."
Bambi's oven was pre-heated like the lap dancer's. The bimbo's covered bin rested on the counter not far from Melissa who half expected to hear a horse throated obscenity from that silent chamber. None came. The boys gathered round. Up the bin went like a funeral bier. It crossed the short space from the counter to the red glowing mother cave, held open by a kitchen boy who pushed the door back as the bin slid home. Around the oven the warmth of the kitchen became bearable again.
Melissa gazed up at a crew of young men surrounding her in her pan. They had come for her, she knew. Lorraine appeared, smiling and bright eyed. Horatio Finley stepped between a pair of kitchen boys for a look at the featured meat girl. A middle aged women done up as a blonde tart wedged in with him. They surveyed Melissa without comment and drifted away.
Lorraine patted the stuffed tummy.
"You were always the one, honey. I bet you know that, but in case you didn't."
She waved and stepped back.
Melissa held her breath as they lifted her. The kitchen grew quiet except for the voice of the moderator and, in the background, the simmering stews. Melissa felt oddly calm and a bit curious. They had aroused her with the basting. The boys allowed themselves a good time with her and even Felix, she thought almost happily, had given her breasts special attention. What would the oven do?
"Here she goes, folks! As I said before, our champion's oven is unheated. You'll see it all! She'll heat up and cook on this open pan until she browns and her stomach swells from the stuffing that's cooking in her. Might take an hour for all that and then the show will have to pause, you know, while she roasts in her covered bin and that'll take quite a while, maybe seven hours and then we'll have a really special finale for everyone when she gets the final browning. There'll be an announcement for that so you'll have plenty of time to get back here."
As she moved toward the oven, Melissa caught sight of a television monitor. The image was of her. Then it flashed to the grandstand, bringing the spectators into the drama. Some waved at the camera. She saw David. He had his arm around a pretty young woman and she had her arm around him and her hand on David's fly, perhaps a close-up just for her. The scene switched back and she saw the open oven and her bearers carrying her toward it. Then the monitor was out of view and then everything was out of view except black walls and dark coils and her window. She was inside.
Melissa peeked out. The television camera was there. She wondered if she looked appealing with her mouth stuffed. She had seen for herself that she looked okay with her tummy stuffed. Felix had done a good job. Mmmmm, what a nice shot they had given her! She felt cozy and loved. The oven hummed. The coils began to brighten. A warm glow enveloped her. The agony was long seconds away.
Melissa sighed against her apple and closed her eyes.
End