Posted by jack on October 26, 2006 at 03:37:15:
II
On the other side of the swinging metal doors, Henri Blouse and his companion chef, Felix, were almost ready to begin.
"How do you stand on this, Felix," Henri said, holding his ears against the wails and shrieks.
"I love it, Henri, I draw inspiration from it." He put his finger to his lips.
"Just listen."
Henri gritted his teeth, enduring the cacophony.
"It is a symphony of anguish, Henri, a chorus of doom. It is wonderful!," shouted Felix. "If you listen, you can sometimes hear one of them whimpering, like a pianissimo undertone to the forte."
It was good for the meat if the girls were able to express themselves before their slaughter, Felix contended, hence removal of the gags. Henri considered this theory nonsense but he muted his opinion and toyed with his knives on the counter, keying himself for the work ahead.
The carts were lined up before a tiled wall fitted with hooks from which the girls would be hung first as living, gasping creatures draining their blood into buckets, then as carcasses. Bambi's cart was furthest from the chefs, its occupant being fucked at the moment by a busboy. This was the time when the kitchen crew had its turn with the girls, a little bonus decreed by Horatio Finley to keep his workers happy. On her arrival, Bambi had been quickly surrounded by a flock of eager young men who had waited for her. A few had played with the lap dancer and some of the other girls as a warm-up. Melissa, being the champion, was off limits, reserved for the VIPs like Finley, if he wanted her, and the leaders of the clubs.
"Ah, she is here," Felix murmured to himself when Melissa's cart came through the doors. He watched it move down the line and swing into place next to Bambi. He strode over to greet the best in show.
"Hello, there, sweet one," he said, removing Melissa's gag. "Ignore them," he smiled, referring to the protesting meat girls, whose choir no longer included Bambi. A muscular Jamaican had begun fucking the blonde's throat through a ring he'd wedged in her mouth to keep her teeth at bay.
"Oh, thank you," Melissa said. She forgot the pain in her mouth and looked urgently into the eyes of the man who had kindly ungagged her.
"I'm not a meat girl, honest. I'm a role play person! I'm just role-playing!!, Melissa shouted.
Felix put a hand on Melissa's stomach and stroked it upward, closing his fingers over one of her breasts. He massaged the soft flesh, then tweaked the nipple.
"Pretty loud with all the bellyaching in here," Felix said. He moved his hand to the other breast.
Melissa squirmed and bit her lip. "Did you hear what I said!!?"
Felix nodded and smiled. He moved his hand to Melissa's cunt and stuck his forefinger deep inside. While he fucked Melissa with his finger, Felix turned to the kitchen lads at Bambi's cart and told them to re-gag the girls.
"Thats enough dissonance for now. Trying to have a conversation here with the queen," he said.
In short order, the meat girls' music was quieted to muffled sobs and the choking sounds of Bambi's Jamaican farewell.
"That's better," Felix said. He looked at Melissa's strained face and grinned.
"I heard what you said. Look, this isn't any role-play. This is the real thing in here. See those ovens. By this time tomorrow, you and one of those ovens are going to be getting to know each other. You'll be boon companions."
Melissa paled. "No, no! I KNOW this is the real thing. What I'm saying is that I am role-playing, I'm not supposed to be here because it IS....the real thing. Oh, god, am I making myself clear?"
"You're a peach. I like you, like your spirit," Felix said, putting his finger back in gear.
Melissa gasped and closed her eyes.
"Oh, don't. Please don't. I've had too much sex today. I can't take any more sex. You have to let me out of here. Ohhhh, mmmmmmm. Please get my husband or....mmmmm, ohhhh, Mrs. Wilson. I belong to their CLUB!!"
"Ha, this is great!," Felix grunted, speeding up his finger. "Can't take any more sex. You mean you want more. It happens, you know. The meat girls want all the sex they can get because they know when the sex stops that's when the real fun begins."
"Oh! Mmmmmmm, you mean cooking them!!! No, no, mmmmm, ohhhhm, Goddddd. Oh, please, dont make me cum again. Not now. OOh......OH!!!!"
Felix watched, transfixed, while Melissa bucked and spasmed, kept only by her tied ankles and wrists from jettisoning off the cart. The chef was particularly impressed by the meat girl's little spurt. Spurting orgasms were few and far between even among the typically passionate girls delivered for his services, and here was one who no doubt had orgasmed many times already that day.
As Melissa calmed down, Lorraine Wilson and David entered the kitchen with Henri, who had gone to find them. Melissa hadn't noticed Henri from her horizontal perspective on the cart, but he had recognized her from past club roasts and heard her appeal.
"Well, let us talk to her, Henri," was all that Lorraine would say.
She waited by the doors with David until Felix came strolling back, licking his finger. In the meantime, the Jamaican finished with Bambi. He put back her gag. A creamy substance began to ooze around the perimeter.
"Hi, honey," Lorraine said, coming up to Melissa's cart.
"Oh, Lorraine! David! Thank goodness!"
Lorraine grinned, shaking her head. "Melissa, did you have ANOTHER orgasm just now?"
"I...I couldn't help it," Melissa mumbled. "Listen," she cried with her next breath, "they don't know about me yet. They still think I'm a real meat girl. You have to TELL them."
"Shhhhh, not so loud. Well, we are working on the situation, dear. But I hope you understand that it's going to be quite embarrassing for us not to do it now that you have won the show and your victory was so popular, you know."
"What do you mean!!? What is embarrassing?"
"Well, everyone is just dying to see you as the center roast at the reception tomorrow night. That's what I mean. It would be a shame to disappoint all those nice people. So, we were wondering, dear, if you would be willing to...let it happen."
Melissa blinked, unable to speak.
Lorraine went breezily on. "Another thing to consider, and I hope you will think about this, is that if we don't let them...have you, that would make us the only club here that didn't bring something. Hmmmmm. Anyway, Bob Burns is out right now trying to catch a girl to take your place but, to be honest, I don't think he's likely to find one as good as you and you know what a perfectionist Bob is."
Melissa's head was spinning. Her panic stricken gaze moved to David, who continued looking elsewhere. Melissa noticed that her husband was holding his hands in his pockets to obscure his hardon.
Lorraine sighed.
"We discussed all this, didn't we Dave, and I know that he would just hate it if you couldn't be around for him to have sex with, I mean anyone would, but he's agreed to make the sacrifice if necessary. You have to give him credit for that, honey."
From twenty feet away, Felix heard a delightful new moan and whimper and thought about ungagging his chorus. But the time for dilly-dallying was over. He and Henri had six carts of work to do.
The other housewife besides Melissa among the meat girls was strapped to the first cart in line. When the lovely felt her ties loosen her first thought was that she was about to be killed. Then hope sprang and she wondered if they were letting her go. She had been right the first time.
Her name was Susan. She belonged to a club from Texas, taken in the parking lot on leaving church.
For Susan, going to church was a sensual highlight of her week. She would pick out a dress for these Sunday morning occasions short enough to display her legs and tight enough to showcase other parts, yet marginally tasteful. Communion was her time to shine. From a back pew, she would strut down the isle, drawing the eyes of the same men who hawked her at every mass and the same women. Susan liked to take her little package of Jesus straight, softly poising her lips then rolling out her tongue in her manner of starting a blowjob. On her way back, it seemed to some that she knew a way to turn chewing a wafer into an obscene act, or they noted Susan's folded hands making an advertisement of her tits. Not everyone loved it, but Susan and her fans did and so did Susan's husband, proud to own the top piece of ass in the parish.
On the fateful day, a man in a hunting shirt watched her. She hadn't noticed when his white van wheeled around as she jounced up the granite steps contemplating her entrance through the holy doors.
After she sat down, tingling in the aftermath of her performance, the hunting shirt quietly rose and went to the back of the church where he made a call on his cell phone. A few minutes later a second van pulled into the lot.
Witnesses told varying accounts. The tear gas and a smoke bomb or two left stories in fragments. All that could be said for certain was that in the midst of the chaos men had been seen wearing gas masks and when the air cleared, they and Susan were gone.
"Mmmm, looks like they are getting ready to butcher them. The chefs probably want us to leave," Lorraine observed.
The kitchen boys sat up the girls, tying their wrists to their ankles and leashing their necks so that the incipient stew parts and dumplings would be able to watch the proceedings until their turns.
Lorraine raised her hand. "Five minutes, Henri?"
"Oh good!" she squealed when Henri nodded. She knelt next to Melissa's cart and placed a comforting hand on one of the trembling shoulders.
"Look, honey. This is a chance for you to be a star! Try to look on the positive side. Imagine yourself in your place of honor, with a roasted girl on either side of you, both of them beautiful but not as beautiful as you because you are the champion, the best in show, and everyone is just admiring you to pieces as you lie there gleaming on your platter."
"No...no, no!! Lorraine, don't make me please...please..."
"Shush! I'm going to have to put your gag back, Melissa. I'm getting tired of this attitude. Open up."
Melissa clamped her mouth shut. Her eyes blazed. She twisted against her ties in a burst of fresh determination.
"Finger fuck her, David."
"What? What for?"
"Just do it."
David hesitated. Then has hand slid between Melissa's thighs. He evaded the eyes as before but allowed himself a sentimental gaze at the cunt while he fingered it. What would that puffed up pleasure place be like two or three meals from then, he wondered. Still juicy, no doubt, but in a different way. His fly bulged a bit more.
"Mmmmmmmm," Melissa moaned, fighting her husband's outrageous attempt to arouse her at such a time and for such a purpose. "Mmmmmmmmmm," she moaned again, feeling her mind begin to go. Oh, why did she have to be like this!? What was the matter with her!? No! No! She would not give in! Oh, GOD!!!
"Oh!!"
"There we go," Lorraine said, and she jammed in the gag.
Unlike the other meat girls whose hands were bound in front for their short respite as spectators, Susan was re-tied with her hands bumping her rump. Her ankles were lashed together. Then the kitchen boys stepped back and Felix came up to the cart and told Susan how she would be butchered.
The girls would be done the same, Felix promised, not wanting Susan to feel singled out. When he concluded his little talk and Susan was batting her eyes and making unpleasant noises through her gag, the kitchen boys hoisted her from the cart and carried her to the wall where they hung her by her ankle ties from a hook, facing outward. Susan's hair fell over her face piling the ends of its curls on the red brick tile floor, next to a bucket.
"Hold on. Have to get this out of the way," Felix muttered as he snipped off the hair that hid the dangling creature's unhappy expressions.
"Go ahead, yell your head off," Felix said, removing the gag.
As he had just explained, girls didn't necessarily drain more efficiently when their mouths were added as outlets, and the gasping created a mess, but the spectacle was grand.
Susan opened and closed her mouth, and opened and closed her eyes.
"Nothing to say, huh?," Felix said. He positioned the bucket.
The chef considered the knife tray held out for him by one of the boys and made his selection. The knife sliced through Susan's white neck.
"Ah!," Susan said.
After that she made less discernable sounds. The hole in her neck released a steady flow into the bucket while her gasping mouth spattered and spewed, reminding Lorraine of a Pollack painting. The other meat girls on the hour's agenda watched in horror or, like Melissa, squeezed their eyes shut. Susan wiggled and twitched, then the wiggling ceased and the twitching slowed until she was still, dripping what she had left into the half filled bucket while her eyes looked widely out, not quite as before.
"Gee, David, that was fantastic!," Lorraine cried, clasping her hands. Susan's slaughter had taken a minute at most.
The kitchen boys were getting the next girl ready.
The law student, Lorraine noted, agreeably. An angular brunette with fabulous tits and dark, flashing eyes. So much promise. Oh well, dinners are important, too. The boys re-arranged the girl's ties and hauled her to the wall, dangling her next to Susan's carcass. This time, a fine scream filled the kitchen before Felix's knife intervened with the vocal chords and the sounds turned to those of gurgling outpours into the bucket and onto the floor.
Watching the girls, one after the other, go off on their great adventures had a bracing effect on Lorraine. She had wanted Melissa all day and now she wanted her more than ever, wanted her away from the eyes of the kitchen boys and the chefs and the moronic husband. She sighed at the impossibility and leaned on the cart, nuzzling her lips against Melissa's cheek.
"You should watch, honey. You would see how lucky you are," she murmured. "The boys sat you up to watch, you know."
"Mmmm,uregg," Melissa replied through her gag.
"Mmmm, my feeling exactly," Lorraine purred. She cupped one of Melissa's breasts. God, it was so firm and smooth! She took the nipple between her fingers and played with it until she felt Melissa squirm.
"Yes, sweetie, you could be up there like them, just a slab of beef waiting to be cut into pieces. Isn't it better, like a thousand times better, to be lovingly bathed, like a queen, and you are a queen, and then stuffed by a master chef who will sew you up so nice, and then have an exciting time in the oven while everyone gets to see it on the closed circuit tv, and then the great moment when you are presented! Oh, God, I wish it could me! These girls won't be presented. They'll be just little pieces of meat in the stew and pates for the hors-doeuvres and God knows what else. You're the lucky one, sweetie, and you know what, I think you know it. You just won't admit it."
Melissa moaned. She opened her eyes, not to look at the slaughtered girls, but to watch Lorraine's hand journey down her tummy to where Melissa almost hoped it would go, for it was at moments like this, when her cunt possessed her, that Melissa did think about the oven and the platter and felt the pull toward sweet surrender.