Posted by PK on December 28, 2001 at 17:45:26:
"Everybody's really going to eat me," she said in wonder, as if the thought had never
occurred to her before.
"Yes, sweetheart, they are. We are," said Tom, looking steadily into her eyes. Was she going
to lose it? But Julie pulled herself together, like any performer used to overriding last minute
nerves.
"Hokay," she said decisively. She took a breath, drew herself up and turned to face the room.
"Listen up everybody!"
Everybody listened up. It wasn't hard to get their attention, they'd been trying not to crowd her
until she was ready.
"Okay folks," she said, speaking boldly and clearly. "Here comes the moment you've all been
waiting for. Well, one of them but I won't be around to see that. I'm gonna get naked, then I'm
gonna get spitted. I won't be able to talk much after that. Big loss, right?" That got a chuckle.
"So, I'm not gonna bore you. I just want to say, thanks all of you for coming. And enjoy your
dinner! Merry Christmas, everybody."
Over a mixture of calls including 'Yay!', 'Merry Christmas', ''Bout time' and others, mostly
appreciative, Julie briefly hugged each of her family then, without undue fuss, removed her
clothes. She knew when not to overdo it. Her figure was excellent, as you'd expect from a
cheerleader, slimmer and smaller breasted then her mother's but trim and athletic. As she
turned from the crowd to the Jessica she couldn't resist a flick of her pert bottom, now
showing the tattooed USDA stamp on the upper right buttock. That got a cheer too.
"Let's do it, Daddy," she said, grinning wickedly, and she knelt down on the machine. Nick
stepped forward to assist. It felt weird, somehow, spitting his sister. He hadn't been old
enough to be involved when Patricia had been cooked. He had done this to his mother of
course, and in many ways she had been more important to him, but it wasn't the same.
Janice had lived a full and fulfilling life and pretty much chosen her time to go. Julie was just
making the best of her situation. And making a darned good show of it, he thought. Still, he
wasn't about to let somebody else screw it up for her, so he concentrated on doing his job,
handling her gently but firmly as he helped her into position, secured her ankles and tied her
hands.
"Good job, Bro," she said, looking at him sidewise and winking. He smiled at her.
"All set," he said. Tom nodded and started to prepare his daughter. Everything went smoothly
and quickly. It was time to hit the switch.
"Bye, honey. You did great. I love you." he said, and hit the switch. Julie just had time for
"Love you too," before the injection to her throat made it impossible to speak. It was just as
well, there was nothing more to say, though there was a stifled yelp of surprise as the slightly
vibrating spit went in deep. In minutes, Julie was transfixed, gutted and stuffed. Tom lifted
her feet and tied them, and she was ready to go.
Because they were indoors, the usual barbecue pit was out of the question. Fortunately, Fred
Johnson had a gas fuelled indoor rotisserie oven that was perfect for the job. He helped Tom
and Nick put Julie inside and fix her, a slightly trickier job that an outdoor mount, and they
closed the transparent door. They had set it for slow heat and internal ventilation, so Julie
would last long enough to feel the sensation of starting to cook. Tom had asked her if she'd
prefer to be killed first, but she had wanted to experience it all, as close as possible to the
way her mother had.
Nick watched for a while, as Cory came up and put her arm round his waist. Julie looked
quite peaceful, she was moving a little on the pole as she slowly rotated and her eyes were
closed, as though she was dreaming. She wasn't fighting it, for which he was thankful.
Already, she glistened with sweat. In the internal reddish gold light of the oven, she seemed
to glow.
A few people had brought cameras and took photographs of her. Nick started to protest and
then checked himself. He didn't know whether they'd asked her, and he guessed she'd have
agreed to it anyway as long as she looked good in there. He had to admit she looked terrific.
"This is just how she wanted it," said Cory comfortingly, mirroring his thought. "Everybody
admiring her." There was no criticism implied, she was simply stating a fact. Nick
remembered how upset Julie had been at the thought of being taken away. All things
considered, this was for the best.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Marcia breathed. She was staring at Julie as if entranced. Was that a
note of wistfulness in her voice?
"She sure is," Jill agreed, but she caught Nick's glance, flicked her gaze to Marcia and back,
raised her eyebrows.
"She looks great, Marcy, and I'm sure you will be too when it's your time," said Nick sensibly,
"there's no hurry, though, you'll get cooked eventually."
Marcia started as if he'd dragged her back to Earth. She shrugged it off, ears a little pink. "I
don't know what you're talking about," she said defensively. "I mean, I know that...."
"Fine then," Nick cut her off kindly. "Let's all get a drink, hey?"
Now that Julie was safely spitted and cooking in the oven, a certain tension went out of Nick.
Everything that could have gone wrong hadn't. The whole affair had come together as Cory
had intended, though it had grown and changed in the making. His father's machine had
worked perfectly. Julie had done her part well and with style, there was nothing more he
could do for his sister except, of course, eat her. He relaxed and allowed himself to enjoy the
party.
The rest of the guests did the same. To the rising scent of cooking girl, they drank, talked,
even danced. There was music too. Nick noticed that some of the young studs were paying
attention to Marcy, and she was basking in it. Over the last month she had continued to
improve her physique with proper diet and excercise, she was no longer too plump and she
carried herself well. He was pleased for her. The unusual sex ratio helped: since a lot of
young men had wanted to attend even if their whole families couldn't afford to come, there
was less than the usual excess of women. Though he didn't drink too much - the laws might
be overlooked at an affair like this but his father would take a dim view if he got seriously
drunk - he began to feel quite mellow. He even enjoyed listening to Cory and her brother
trying to explain the rules of cricket to the jocks, a lost cause if ever there was one. He barely
grasped it himself, but their baffled expressions seemed absurdly comical.
Soon enough, it was time to serve dinner.
Julie was taken out of the oven, laid on the huge warmed carving platter prepared for her and
the spit carefully removed. Everyone crowded around to take a look. The aroma was mouth
watering.
"She looks even better cooked," somebody said. It was hard to argue with that, even if Nick
and the family would have preferred her to have a few more years. One thing you learned
early was that indulging regrets like that was pointless. Far better to be glad that Julie did
indeed look and smell superb.
"Maybe we could do you next, whaddaya think?"
Nick glanced at the speaker, one of the football crowd by the look of him. He'd brought his
girlfriend, also a cheerleader and probably an aquaintance of Julie's. She smiled thinly and
muttered "Maybe later...." Obviously she wasn't over enthused by the idea but didn't want to
lose her boyfriends interest. Nick turned away in distaste. He'd cook Cory when he had to or
when she was good and ready and not a day before.
Once Julie had been displayed for long enough for everyone to get a good eyeful, the work
of serving her up began. The choice and most requested parts had been allocated by drawn
lots, a complicated procedure handled mainly by Fred Johnson. The rest would be a matter
of taking what the carvers handed out. There should be enough of her for every guest to get
something tasty. Those who had bought special tickets - they had in fact charged for them,
over Mr. Hopkins' grumbles about gambling, profiteering and the commercialisation of
Christmas - waited eagerly for the draw. This was performed with little fuss by John Hopkins
himself. He had only agreed to the scheme when Cory had suggested the money go into a
fighting fund for any future campaigns.
"The prize, the prime cut of Miss Julianne Susan Partridge, goes to..." he dipped his hand
into a sack. "Ticket number seventeen."
Disappointed groans were interrupted after a brief pause by a whoop of delight. "I got it!
She's mine!" The young man who thrust the winning ticket forward was, not surprisingly, one
of the jocks. Not surprising because they'd all bought tickets. Nick was less than delighted,
he'd hoped one of the family or a close friend would get it if he didn't, but he reflected that
Julie wouldn't have minded. This would definitely make the boy's year and he wouldn't let
anyone forget it for months.
That done with, the Johnson and Partidge women served the rest of the crowd amidst goo
natured chatter, appreciative comments and a few mock grumbles from those who hadn't
gotten quite what they wanted. It didn't matter, nobody went short. Soon they were all sitting
at table eating Julie with whatever side dishes and garnishes they preferred. John Hopkins
said a quick grace which most of them responded to with a mumbled 'Amen' through
mouthfuls of roast girl.
It would be odd not having her come down to breakfast tomorrow, Nick thought as he ate. He
knew perfectly well what he was eating - a nice steak from Julie's thigh - but it didn't quite
connect to idea of the sister he'd known alive. He shook the thought off, sensibly. There
would be time enough to get used to that tomorrow. This was a celebration feast, and it would
be silly to spoil it by being moody. In the age old way he told himself that she'd have wanted
it this way, which was in fact quite true. Julie wasn't given to morbidity or brooding, that was
more Marcy's style. He looked around for her, concerned by the idea, but was chatting to
Gary Hopkins, Cory's older brother, and seemed quite animated and cheerful.
"Penny for 'em?" Cory had finished her first course with her usual gusto.
Nick looked at her. "Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just thinking, you could be right." He indicated the
whole scene with a motion of his head. "I mean, this is okay. I wish she'd had longer, you
know? But..." He shrugged. "I want this for Marcy, Jill, for you. When it's time. I mean
everybody. They're all somebody's sisters."
Cory kissed him, her lips tasting of meat. "You're okay, boy."
"I'm a pushover, you mean."
"No you're not. You just saying that? I don't think so. I don't think you would. That's what I
meant." She looked serious.
"No, I'm not just saying that."
"Talk about it later. Finish your steak, this stuff's great. Want some more?" She stood up.
"Yeah, get me whatever's going."
There was nothing much left of Julie by the end of the party, which was an enormous
success. The jocks got a little rowdy towards the end but John kept them in line and once the
best of Julie was gone they started to drift away. Nick danced badly, swapped stories about
his sister and watched Cory. He wanted to take her home and screw her senseless. He also
wanted to protect her from the world, to keep her for himself, he wanted to eat her up raw. He
wanted to sleep with her and wake with her arms around him, surrounded by the scent of her.
He wanted all of her forever.
"Penny for 'em? Half a dollar?" She smiled.
Forever, definitely. Nick gestured helplessly. "Nothing much."
"Talk to me boy." It was an invitation, not a demand. Nick didn't know how to say it. Cory
was nine months older than him. He was smart enough but he knew she was smarter, more
sophisticated in some ways than he was, yet still somehow primal. He was in awe of her. It
could have been the atmosphere or the alcohol, or it could have been that he was in love.
"You look good in that shirt," he managed.
"Thank you very much. My sister made it. That's it?" She waited for more.
A dam broke. "Okay, I want to take you home and fuck you senseless."
"Sounds like a plan." She smiled.
"I want to sleep with you, eat you all up, keep you.... don't know. I just want you."
"That's a lot better. Let's do all of that." She was still smiling.
Nick stared at her helplessly. "You don't know what you do to me, do you?"
Cory nodded, taking the point. "Not if you don't tell me. I don't know what it's like to be a
man. I just know I trust you."
They walked home together, hand in hand. The remains of Julie had been left for the
Hopkins to deal with, they had been assured that nothing would be wasted.
Nick woke with the familiar sensation of warm girl around him. Also with the unfamilar
sensation of weight on his legs. Nick lifted his head above the blankets, his right arm still
under Cory's shoulders.
Jill was sitting on the bed cross legged. She was naked.
"Hi, Bro," she said.
"Gmorm. Uh, what....the f..heck. grummph. What the heck are you doing in here? What time
is it anyway?"
"Nearly time for breakfast. Listen, I've decided," Jill said brightly, "I' m going to Mars."
"Good," Nick grunted. "Start now."
Cory woke. Nick felt her wake as if the Earth moved.
"Hi, lover," she said. Without a beat she said "Morning, Jill." She didn't ask what she was
doing there.
"I'm going to Mars, Cory," Jill said. "The war's over. The Commonwealth space programme is
back on. They got all that stuff from the Russians and it's all happening in Australia."
That got Nick's attention. Since the NASA space program had been proxmired out of
existence all the talent had gone in the brain drain back to the alliance between the
Commonwealth and the remains of Europe. If they'd picked up the Soyuz gear too, along
with the NASA selloff, well...
"Come here, kid," Cory said. She grabbed Jill by the ankle and wrestled her under the
covers. Jill struggled for a while then gave in, ending up nestled between her twin and his
lover, her best friend. A tickle fight ensued that left all three breathless and giggling.
Eventually, they pulld themselves together and went down to breakfast.
"It's not fair," Marcy was saying as they came in. "I'm old enough to be culled, so why not?"
"Because until you're eighteen you need your father's permission," said Amelia, stating the
obvious. "Good morning, Cory." All the family had accepted that, married or not, she and
Nick were not going to be separated.
"What's the problem, Dad?" Nick asked. Amelia passed him a plate of waffles, sausages
(probably Janice, they looked home made) and fried tomatoes as he sat down. Cory and Jill
got theirs as Marcia glared at her father.
"Marcy got a little carried away last night," he explained.
Marcy appealed to her brother. "I only said I wanted to volunteer for the Spring feast," she
complained. "Why shouldn't I? I told Dad I'd use his Jessie. He should be pleased." She
crossed her arms defensively.
"When you're eighteen, if you still feel the same way, you can," said Tom reasonably. "No
need to rush. You may have changed your mind by then."
"But Daddy...."
"ENOUGH! I'm sorry sweetheart, but that's my last word." Tom stared at her resolutely.
For a while they all ate in silence broken only by requests to pass the catsup, until Jill
casually essayed a remark.
"Um, Dad, I'm going to emigrate to Australia."
Tom shared a look with Amelia. It never got any easier. She returned the look oddly.
Something she wasn't saying.
"What is it, dear?" he asked.
Amelia flushed. "I think I'm pregnant," she said.
Tom closed his eyes.