Posted by PK on December 23, 2001 at 15:47:05:
The scent of roasting woman pervaded everything.
When Janice was done, she was lifted down onto a table to be carved. The whole party
assembled, ready to eat. Julie and Marcia had laid out the salads and garnishes, the baked
potatoes filled bowls next to platters of butter.
"You want to say grace?" Fred asked Tom. He nodded and stood up.
"This is when we give thanks for our freedom and God's bounty," he said. "Personally, I don't
think God needs the applause. I thank Janice for all the years she gave me and our children.
I thank her for her body that she gave to us all. If anybody doesn't approve of this blessing
they can get the Hell out of here. Amen."
There was a moment of stunned silence and then Cory shouted 'Amen' and clapped. Nick
and Jill followed suit. After a beat, the other Partridge girls joined in, along with Amelia. She
had made her choice of allegiance. It could have gotten awkward, but Fred lifted a beer can
and said, "Okay! To Janice."
Kate and Marcia carved Janice up. Tom got her cunt on a plate in traditional fashion for
starters, in a bed of greens with a buttered potato on the side. Cory had a thigh steak and ribs
with sauce. Nobody went short, there was enough of her to give everyone the best meal
they'd had in a long time.
Eventually, the party wound down. The day was drawing to its close, it had been dusk for
some time and there were signs of winter's coming in the air despite the light and heat from
the embers of the fire. Somewhere along the way, Tom threw a jacket over Amelia's
shoulders. This would be the last outdoor feast until March. Guests departed with the usual
compliments.
Amelia didn't know whether to go or stay. She awaited Tom's pleasure anxiously as the rest
of her family left. Finally, he turned to her and touched the bow at the front of her bikini. Her
eyes widened as he looked a question. She nodded eagerly, trying not to to panic. This was
what she had wanted, but she was suddenly afraid.
He pulled the bow, baring her breasts, and she let him lead her inside.
The next morning, disaster struck, in a way they had all remotely feared but never really
expected. Nick woke up surrounded by warm limbs and a familar scent of girl. The room was
not swaying. Corinne was here in his bed. It was a feeling he could easily enjoy getting used
to, but he wondered how his father would react when he brought her down to breakfast. He
needn't have worried.
Breakfast was a cheerful enough affair at first. Janice's absence was felt, but not unbearable,
they'd been prepared for this for some time. Amelia was turning out heaps of blueberry
pancakes, doing her best to fill the role of house mother and a little self conscious about it.
Nick took his with thanks. He'd rather have had bacon and eggs with everything, but the
pancakes were pretty good and he didn't want to upset Amelia. Besides, she would have
enough to do today disposing of the remains of her predecessor. Most of the best cuts of
Janice had been eaten at the party, of course, but there was plenty of edible stuff left that
would have to be made into pies, cold cuts, sausages, soups, stocks and anything else that
could be preserved or chilled for future use. It would be bad home economics as well as
disrespectful to waste her. Cory's presence at the breakfast table got a wink and a raised
eyebrow from Marcy and Julie, and a courteous 'Good morning' from Tom. Then the
thunderbolt struck.
"Letter for you, Julie," said Jill as she came in. "Pancakes! Great!" She took a plateful and
started to stuff herself with them. Conversation was sparse, Janice hadn't liked people to talk
with their mouths full.
A strangled gasp from Julie's direction got everybody's attention. Julie was ashen faced. She
held a sheet of thick white paper in a trembling hand.
"What is it, sweetheart?" asked her father. He had a horrible suspicion of what it might be.
"I've - I've been culled," she whispered. Amelia froze. Jill gasped.
"Oh, Julie," said Marcia sadly. It didn't seem possible. Julie was the golden girl, the one with
no problems. Pretty, popular and easy going - Jill might have added vain and complacent on
her bad days - she sailed through life untouched. Nobody doubted that she'd get a husband
despite the scarcity of men, unless something happened. Something like this.
"It's not fair," she croaked miserably. Her throat felt thick and her eyes were filling with tears.
"I'm only sixteen. Why me?"
Tom hardly knew what to say. It didn't seem fair to him, either. To lose another daughter the
day after his beloved Janice seemed too much, even if Amelia was proving quite a pleasant
replacement. Not fair either to Julie, who was so young, so promising. It would do no good to
say so, of course, only encourage her to indulge her self pity and make herself worse. The
cull struck at random, it was futile to complain, it could have been anyone. He suddenly
wished Janice was still here, Amelia wasn't ready to handle this. He sighed. "I'm very sorry,
sweetheart. When's the deadline? I suppose we'll have to make preparations." Another party
would certainly do the Partridge's social standing no harm. He could have done without this,
but you had to look on the positive side.
"We can do you on Dad's Jessica," offered Marcia consolingly. "At least you'll go in style. I'd
do it that way if I were you."
Nick winced. He exchanged a helpless look with Cory. He expected a bitter, scornful reply
about how it was easy for her to talk. It was not forthcoming.
"You don't get it," Julie sobbed. "This isn't just a notice of whatsit. You know, telling me when
I've gotta go. It's a meat quota rec.. rec..thingummy. She shook her head to clear her vision
and sniffed. "I'm pies, guys." It was a brave attempt at humour through tears.
"Requisition?" Now Tom paled. Julie's body was Government property. She would be sold on
the open market, whole or in parts as supply and demand dictated. "Oh God, Julie, I am SO
sorry." Less devout than Janice, or less adept at faking it, he couldn't think of a single good
thing to say about this. His poor, sweet Julie, to be carted off to a processing plant!
"They won't chop you up, surely?" said Amelia, doing her best. "You're too pretty. You'll be a
whole roaster, at least."
"She's right," Jill agreed. It was the best she could offer.
Nick felt miserable. He remembered his joke about sausages a few weeks ago. It didn't seem
funny any more. "When is it, sis?" he asked gently.
"I've got till December 25th," she said. "Nice, huh? I can stay for Christmas eve, open my
presents then it's, sorry, gotta rush..."
"Somebody will be getting a heck of a Christmas dinner." said Cory. She looked thoughtful.
"Couldn't you buy me, Daddy? For Christmas?" Julie's expression was pitiful, her hurt little
girl look. Tom shook his head sadly. It was out of the question, even to save his daughter
from the slaughterhouse. Only the very rich could afford a whole girl for one dinner,
Christmas or not. Worse yet, Julie's looks were against them. She would cost a fortune and
they all knew it, a fortune Tom didn't have even if he wanted to.
"I'm truly sorry, honey, but..." he started to say.
Julie stopped him. "No, I'm sorry. It's a dumb idea, I was just being selfish. I guess I'd better
get used to it." She couldn't bankrupt the whole family for her hurt feelings, and she would
have to die anyway. She still looked miserable, but she was bearing up as well as she could.
Tom thought Janice would have been proud.
"Maybe I've got an idea," said Cory. Everybody looked at her, she looked at Julie. "You'd still
have to get cooked, of course, no helping that."
Julie nodded, she'd accepted that, now she looked desperately hopeful.
"How about a neighborhood party? A bonfire party. We could roast Julie for everybody."
"But how...?" from Marcia
"She's not ours to give any more," said Tom. "We'll be in serious trouble if we do that."
"Buy her back as a syndicate. We all put in. Get everybody involved. Nick, how many kids on
this area are on the school football team?"
"What? I don't know, a few I guess." Nick wasn't a big football fan.
"And their fathers support the team, right? Who's their favourite cheerleader?"
"Yeah," Nick mused, seeing where she was going, "but community roasts are usually
volunteers. Who's going to want to pay instead?"
"How many of them would like to eat Julie, and how badly?" Cory countered.
"We can't sell it like that," said Jill, "It's untraditional."
"We don't, on the surface," Cory explained. "We could get a campaign going. Local girls for
local people or something. But we feed the jocks the idea, how would you like to eat a
cheerleader for Christmas dinner? Julie's really popular, right?"
"And we say things like, keep Julie home, don't let them take her away on this of all days, we
make a cause of it." Jill was getting into the idea. Cory nodded approvingly.
"Can you roast somebody on a bonfire?" Marcia wondered practically. "It won't be easy
keeping the heat even. And it'll be cold."
"People can dress up warm," Nick suggested. "We'll keep Julie under a coat until it's time to
put her on. She won't be cold for long. You could do it couldn't you, sis, just for a few
minutes?" Julie nodded vigorously. She was starting to cheer up a bit. "Or we could do it
indoors. Somebody must have enough space. We'll think of something."
"There's never been a Christmas roaster party before," Tom cautioned. "And we may not be
able to get Julie anyway." He didn't want to get her hopes up.
"Somebody we know must know somebody at the meat plant," said Cory. "I think we can do it
if we start now." She did not say, to hell with tradition but she wasn't going to let precedent
stop her. It was part of her charm, Nick had always thought .
And if we don't, will it be worse for Julie, or better knowing we tried, wondered Tom.
"You'll be the centre of attention, Jules," said Jill encouragingly. "You'll love it. All those
horny guys just dying to eat you." She could see Julie picturing it. Tom threw her a half
hearted reproving look which she ignored.
"Will there be enough of me to go round?" Julie wondered, but she looked more cheerful
already.
"Only people who buy into it get admitted," said Cory. "We should be able to get the right
numbers. And there'll be other stuff to eat, we can all bring things."
"If we get a lot of people, it just means there won't be any leftovers," Jill agreed. "They'll
gobble you all up, sis." She grinned.
"Who gets your you-know-what?" Marcia wanted to know. "You don't have a steady."
Julie looked at her father, who shook his head. "I'd love to, hon, but it wouldn't be fair."
"We can have a draw for it," Amelia put in and Cory agreed. "Everyone gets a number."
"For that, we could SELL tickets," said Jill enthusiastically. "We'll clean up!" Julie looked
pleased at that. She wanted to see how many people would buy them. The idea had taken
her fancy.
"Please, Daddy, can we?" This time there was real hope in Julie's appeal. Cory looked to
Tom, it was really up to him. He frowned for a moment, then nodded.
"Right, we'll try it," he said firmly. "But don't get your hopes up, sweetheart, it might not work."
He looked at Cory again. "You'd better give me a hand, Corinne, if you don't mind.
Organising things isn't really my strong suit. You'll come to dinner tonight, won't you? We'll
need to discuss a few details."
"No problem." Cory smiled. "I'd love to."
"Oh, thank you Daddy. Thanks all of you." Julie wanted to hug everyone at once. "You too,
Corinne. That was really nice, helping us out like that." She felt a little guilty that she had
really wanted Nick to go for Sue, who was a friend of hers.
"Glad to be of service, ma'am," said Cory with mock formality. "Seriously, we need
everybody with us on this. Start talking it up today. Think of anybody we know who might be
useful, okay?"
As the girls cleared up after breakfast, Tom found a moment to talk to his son. "Nick, about
Corinne," he began.
"I'm going to marry her, Dad," said Nick resolutely. He awaited his father's response.
"I thought so. I know you think I don't notice these things but I saw what your mother did."
"I hope you approve," said Nick, secretly determined that he'd do it anyway.
Tom smiled. "I don't think it matters, does it? I could say you're a bit young to choose, but I
won't. I just wanted to say, good choice. Or maybe I should say, good luck!" He grinned.
Over the next week or two, the campaign to cook Julie in her home town gained a strange
lurching momentum. At one moment they were appealing to the conservatives on the issue
of locals eating local girls, the next they were touting the idea of a new and exciting
Christmas party with roast cheerleader as the star attraction. It caused some confusion at
times, but they weren't going to let a foolish consistency limit their options. Cory's drive and
Tom's stubborn patient work proved a winning combination, backed up by Nick's common
sense and the tireless practical support of the girls. They had the backing of the Johnsons -
they could hardly refuse after Tom's announcement of his engagement to Amelia - and the
Hopkins. Cory's father was well aware of the advantages of alliance with the Partridges.
Though not rich, they were an old and well respected family, and that young Nick fella
seemed to have a steady head on his shoulders. Besides, Cory wouldn't let him rest until he
agreed to help.
Once things really got moving, Julie did her part too, in her own style. She flirted
outrageously with the football team, dressed in as little as the season permitted. She dropped
little hints, never quite passing the bounds of public decency in law but pushing the envelope
of respectable behaviour as far as it would go. It was quite a piece of performance art. Before
long, it became unthinkable that they should miss the opportunity to eat her. Even if they'd
seen girls roast before, and they mostly had, Julie's body became the almost unattainable
ideal. She never revealed it all. Some lucky s.o.b. would get to taste her private parts. In the
locker room and the privacy of their nighttime fantasies that became the Holy Grail. The
urgency mounted as time passed. Whoever got her would be up there with the one who
made the touchdown, the achiever of the quest.
All these boys had fathers. Some of them knew people...
A few days into the operation, Jill had a close encounter of her own.
"Hear they finally toasted your old Mom," taunted Cherie. "Bet she was tough and stringy."
"No she wasn't," said Jill calmly. This was easy, the truth was on her side now. She
remembered her mother's last talk with her and did her best to live up to it. "Mom was great.
She was beautiful and brave and she tasted terrific. Everybody said so. You're just jealous
'cause we didn't invite you and your scummy family."
"Like we'd want to come," Cherie tried, but it wasn't convincing. "So you dragged in that weird
Hopkins girl. She's a freak, they're all losers, the whole bunch of 'em."
"No they're not. I like Cory. She's smart and pretty and nice and fun to be with, just like you're
not." Jill grinned nastily.
"Oh, sure. Hey, aren't they gonna cull that dumb sister of yours? The one thinks she's SOOO
pretty? Serves her right. Bout time they cut her down to size, like I always said. Bet they'
make her into dogmeat, bet they.."
Patience has its limits. Jill might have criticised Julie herself in the past but she was still her
sister and this was too much. Cherie never saw the punch coming. She woke up in the
infirmary with loosened teeth, a split lip and a mild concussion, though afterwards Jill insisted
she hadn't knocked her into the wall deliberately.
Jill got a bandage for her skinned knuckles and a month's suspension. She thought it was fair
value, and so it proved. The crack about dogmeat hadn't won Cherie any friends, not when
the cull might get anybody, and even her cronies were not impressed by the way she'd been
taken out in one shot. She never spoke to Jill again. Mom was right, Jill thought later. All
bullies are scared of something. Well, now she's sure as shit scared of me.
Two weeks on, enough support had been pledged for Tom to put a deposit down on Julie's
living body. It was a bit irregular, but the people at the meat plant, unsentimental though they
necessarily were, weren't entirely unsympathetic. Besides, they didn't want any trouble. Fred
Johnson was the sort of man who made it his business to know important people. John
Hopkins was a labour organiser. Without too much fuss, Julie was reserved, pending
payment.
Tom woke up in the night missing Janice, as he often had since her death. As usual, he
distracted himself by thinking about other things. Today, the family meeting on the Julie
project had finally decided to go with the indoor option. The 'family' now included Cory, of
course. An outdoor bonfire just wasn't feasible. The cooking would be too tricky on a really
big fire, as Marcia had always insisted, and a traditional barbecue wouldn't work outside in
December. Mr. Hopkins had offered the use of one of his outbuildings, an old barn. The
Hopkins place had once been a small farm before most of the land had been sold off for
housing. With a bit of work it could easily host a large party and an indoor barbecue, using
the Johnsons' equipment. They would be spared having to worry about the weather and Julie
would be more comfortable. She'd even be able to mingle with the guests, or flaunt herself
as she would doubtless want to do. Everything was coming together nicely, he told himself.
Why did he find it so hard to sleep through the whole night?
Amelia, as always, slept curled against him, inside the curve of his arm. He regarded her with
a growing affection. She really was a lovely companion, even if she would never replace the
love of his life. She had proved a lively and passionate bedmate, and she was doing her best
as a housewife, and doing very well for her age. Best of all, she had never made the mistake
of pushing too hard, never shown disrespect to his late wife's memory or impatience over his
feelings. He didn't know that she kept Janice's bikini in her underwear drawer - not a manly
thing to think about - and tried it on sometimes in her. It was a symptom of her lack of
confidence he was not consciously aware of, though he knew on some level that he wasn't
giving her enough of himself. As he fought insomnia, she woke. She whispered in his ear,
close enough to tickle the fine hairs, "Let me help". In his mind Janice told him, or so he
preferred to believe, that he should let her go and move on. He still needed her approval,
even from the memory of her that still lived in him. He let Amelia help, and let her in a little
further.
"Do you think I should eat more apples?" asked Julie of the table in general. It was breakfast
time again. She reached for the fruit bowl, picked one out and bit into it.
"Why apples?" Nick wondered.
"Fresh fruit's always good for you," said Amelia primly. She was settling into her new role
more each day. Tom had opened up to her a bit more lately, it seemed he had finally
accepted that Janice was gone and she was here to stay. That, more than the announcement
of engagement gave her confidence in her position in the household.
"I heard somewhere that it sweetens the flesh. Makes you taste nicer."
"Don't talk with your mouth full, dear."
"Shorry." She swallowed. "Do you think it really does?"
Tom watched this casual exchange with interest and relief. Julie seemed dealing well with
her impending roasterhood. It was nice to know she was taking an interest.