The Doorbell…

Posted by rache on March 10, 2004 at 16:23:17:

Spoilers – AKA Story Codes (Don’t look)
F/F, M/F, Lesbianism, Fisting, Humor, Cannibalism, Snuff, Sci-Fi, Satire

You know it’s bad when you don’t bother trying to think of a title.

Note: Don’t look for much in this story. I wanted to do a Dolcettish kind of thing, just for kicks. But I started out with a lot of exposition, which is usually a bad sign. Then I got into the characters a little in the middle, and then towards the end I was bored. I got as violent as I could, wanting to kill this stupid story. Then I decided to finish it in a hurry. There will be parts useful to me for other things, but this story…in it’s whole…well. I offer it mainly just because it’s written.

I’ve been on a serious fisting kick too. This bothers me. –rr. March 2004 Cebu

And finally: Copyright 2004 Rachael Ross. All characters and events are fictional; any resemblance to actual persons or events is unintended. This story may be disseminated freely provided it is not altered beyond necessary formatting, my email address appears in the body, and there is no financial burden placed upon any person viewing this story.

The Doorbell…
Fiction by rache

…rang and I put down my can of Pledge and my dusting rag, wiping my hands over my apron, to answer it. ‘Now who could that be?’ I wondered.

“Good morning Miss Carlisle.” It was Jimmy, one of our boys, dressed up in his scouting uniform and looking very handsome.

“Why, hello Jimmy.” I opened the door wide. “Won’t you come in? I was just baking some chocolate chip cookies.” I glanced at the two women from the Secret Service and let them in as well with a curt nod; one of them spoke into a microphone.

“Gee! Thank you, Miss Carlisle!” He walked across the beige carpet with his muddy shoes, going into the kitchen while I closed the door.

“Boys!” I chuckled and shook my head at the agents. They didn’t smile.

I got him a glass of fresh milk and took a nice plump roast out of the freezer to thaw for dinner. I watched Jimmy eat the still warm cookies, washing them down with big healthy gulps of milk.

“So, what can I do for you, Jimmy?”

“Oh! I almost forgot, Miss Carlisle. Greg wanted me to tell you that he was running a little late today. He’ll be here about 7 or so, he thinks. There was a problem with Miss Newburg again.”

“Oh?” I frowned a little.

Miss Newburg is the city librarian and she has a lot of funny ideas. Everytime I saw her I instinctively walked the other way. Trying to reason with intellectuals was never a good idea. It brought nothing but trouble and I thought Miss Newburg would be denounced as the city libertarian if she weren’t careful.

“Greg sent you over to tell me that?” I smiled.

Greg was one of the Town Executors. Originally women, like every other position in the government, had filled that post. But in an effort to improve the national morale it had been suggested a long time ago that mules would be perfect for the job.

“Yeah, I was returning a book when I saw Miss Newburg making a fuss.” Jimmy stuffed another cookie in his mouth. “These sure are good cookies, Miss Carlisle!” He lifted his eyebrows and his words were muffled.

“Well, I’m glad you like them, Jimmy. Say, would you like to take some with you?” I was already reaching for the plastic wrap.

“Oh, sure, Miss Carlisle! I’m going to my scout meeting and I know the guys would love some too.” He smiled and his dimples made me laugh. “Hey do you wanna come with me? There’s going to be a Fallen Angel there to play with!”

“A Fallen Angel?” I pulled my ear and frowned. “Why would one of those come to your scout meeting?”

“Cause she volunteered to help us with our morality badges.”

“Oh, well…I’d love to Jimmy, but I’m going to be pretty busy today I think.” I really did wish I could go.

A Fallen Angel was one of the seculars who had broken one law or another and had to be rehabilitated. Usually this involved community service of some kind. If she survived the scout meeting today she would probably be reinstated to her caste, but living through any kind of community service was pretty rare.

“Awww...” He pouted a little, but it was just pretend and we both laughed.

“Okay, Jimmy. Here’s two dozen, is that enough?”

“You bet!” He got up from the table and grabbed the cookies from me. Then he surprised me with a hug. “I’m going to miss you, Miss Carlisle.” The Secret Service agents flinched, but that was all.

“I’ll miss you too, Jimmy.” I watched the boy scamper out of the kitchen and I sighed as I cleaned up the crumbs he’d left behind. I wondered sometimes what it would have been like to have a son like Jimmy. But to do that, I would have needed a man. I wondered what that would have been like too.

---

I don’t know why it happened, or how it happened. There are a lot of rumors I’d heard, stories and reasons. One that a lot of people believe is that once there were just as many men as there were women in the world. Every woman could have a man if she wanted, and even have as many children as she wanted, boys or girls. (I know that sounds pretty far-fetched) And then one day a woman doctor opened a box, or a test tube, but most people say it was a box…and a very bad germ got loose. The germ was called ‘Pandora’ because that was the doctor’s name and it only affected the chromosomes that made boys. No matter how many babies people made after that, only 1 in every 10,000 (some people said it was closer to 1 in 100,000) were boys. And of those only a very few were healthy and could produce fertile sperm. Pandora had changed the very nature of humanity and no matter how hard the other doctors tried they couldn’t fix it again.

So they fixed society instead. Women did all the work, held all government positions, waged all the wars, and made all the peace. The third President of our country, Princess Deirdre, had used nuclear weapons on 500 million Chinese women. And then dropped another one on Vatican City when Pope Theresa declared war on us. The President was famous for her reply the next day, after someone pointed out that the Vatican had no military and the declaration of war was only symbolic.

In her honor, all of our flags have the words “So was that bomb!” printed on them.

The factual extent of my history knowledge is spotty at best. Women do not go to school. Well, regular women like me don’t. The scientists do, of course, the technicians and our leaders. The rest of us, we grew up knowing that we had to be the pillars of our future. We have to maintain our country and keep it going through the crises. Our Governor spoke to us once, when I was very young, saying that it was with deep and sad reluctance that she’d had us sterilized, but that it also made our nation strong. I saw her later that night on the holotube, speaking before another large group of young girls, proclaiming her unabashed pleasure at being in the presence of so many fine breeders. It must be hard to be the Governor.

Our country uses a caste system to identify who and what each individual is. After Pandora, and especially after the last generation of pre-Pandora males had died off from old age, there was general anarchy. Women wanted to do the kind of work that appealed to them, leaving great gaps in certain essential areas. Also, it soon became apparent that the vast majority of women wanted to have children. Several solutions were proposed, including a national lottery for both meat and breeding. Kind of a good news, bad news wheel of fate. But President Tiffany, during her short but enlightened reign, instituted the caste system and that probably saved us.

Men are simple. There are Studs, who are fertile and our greatest national assets. Then there are the male children, who have the potential to become studs. And finally there are mules, which are males who survived puberty, but are sterile. For all real intents and purposes, they are all external to the real caste system.

Women are a bit more complex. At the top, in order of precedence, are the Political, Military, and Scientific leadership. Below them are the Breeders, and then come the technicians. Pretty much in the middle are the cows, farmers, and meat castes, which are commonly regarded as more or less equal. Lower still are the intellectuals, artists, and secular; and finally there are the deviants, dissidents, and libertarians, who are basically one caste – Criminals, and they work in the National Beautification Program: planting trees, treating sewage, and waste disposal. They have no rights at all, and are often used for medical research. That is the only caste one is not born to, obviously.

Breeders have the honorific ‘Mrs.’ In front of their names, while the rest of us are called ‘Miss’ and none of us have first names, those are reserved for women who have given birth to a healthy male. There is a great blue wall in the capital where all the women with first names are immortalized. Their names and the date they gave birth and all the details are engraved on it. Like:

‘Mrs. Ann Lassiter, May 14th 82 A.P. 7lbs 11ozs, 23cm, A+, Prometheus’

Ann was the only woman from our town whose name was on the wall and we have a special celebration every May in her honor. Prometheus was the bloodline, which is tracked very carefully. The original Prometheus had been a great man and he had sired some 1300 children in that first post-Pandora generation. He was one of the few who had been seemingly immune to Pandora, at least as far as it hadn’t completely ruined him: 65 of his children have been boys; 12 of them survived puberty; and 3 of those were studs. Obviously, his sperm had been invaluable in the early years. It was said that the only reason we’d declared war on Canada was to get him.

Our town was one of three that served as educational centers for the male children. We have 230 boys, just like Jimmy, between the ages of 8 and 12 years. Denver has 310 between 3 and 8 years. And the great breeding facility at Des Moines has over 400 healthy babies. For every male there are tens of thousands of females born, girls are easy to make. Of course the males will all become desperately ill during puberty and many of them will die and most of the remainder just become sterile mules. But hopefully a dozen or more of the boys we have here will become studs, maybe even Jimmy, fathering hundreds of thousands of children for our future.

You may wonder why so many of us are sterilized, I know I have on more than one occasion. The official government position is that it “…improves morale by removing a false hope or expectation contrary to the spirit of self-sacrifice required for our national survival.” The real reason is the great Dallas Uprising, when 17,000 women demanded the opportunity to provide children. What had started as a petition became a riot, and then a war of secession when it was revealed that 3 male infants had been stolen and transported to Texas. The Dallas Uprising and the Three Babies War ended when the President declared it was better to lose 3 male children, whose value was uncertain at best, than have an enemy on our very shores. Texas was nuked off the face of the earth 2 days later when congress voted 33 to 1 to declare war. The congresswoman from Texas cast the one vote against and she lost her seat later that afternoon because she had no constituency. She later became President Emily the Merciless and executed congress for treason. When the Supreme Court ruled that her actions were not constitutional Emily had them shot as well. Her most famous saying is on our ration cards: “Spare yourselves, kill your country”

My friend Miss Keller stopped by for lunch and I was very glad she did. She’s a cow. Not literally of course, it’s just an expression. I’m meat and Miss Keller is a cow. She works at the dairy plant, like all the other cows. It had long since become impractical to raise dairy cattle; there are too many needs and not enough hands. So it seemed logical that the very people who worked to provide us with milk, cheese, and all other forms of dairy products should also be the ones providing the raw materials. A little hormone treatment and like magic, human cows were born.

Like all cows, Miss Keller knew what her purpose was from her earliest age. Her education and experiences had all been designed to impress upon her the value of her service. She’d been working at the dairy plant since she was a child, but not until she became a citizen at age 18 did she begin producing her own milk for the rest of us. Some of the sweet cool homogenized vitamin D milk in my refrigerator had come from her enormous breasts.

Miss Keller has been a producer for almost 3 years and she’s in her prime, being milked every 6 hours. She told me it was hard sometimes at the beginning, because it had been very uncomfortable and it always woke her up when the milkmaids hooked her tits up to the milking machines at midnight. But now she was used to it and just slept right through it. She envied my house, since she lived in the milking barracks with all the other cows, several dozen great buildings with thousands of women. I envied her closeness with her friends. I’d visited her several times and I was always struck by the casual, even loving nature of their private community. At the meat plant where I work, the girls are close, but not in the same way the cows are, for obvious reasons.

When Miss Keller arrived I’d just finished cleaning my carpet of Jimmy’s muddy footprints. Cows are generally small and thin, except for their tits, because their metabolism is very high trying to produce milk as quickly as possible. What fat they do have is concentrated in their mammary glands and passed on through their breast milk. Miss Keller, for example, is only 5’3” and maybe 110lbs. Her hips and waist are tiny, like 30 and 18 inches respectively, but her tits are 38 inches easily, firm and proud. If they sag at all, it’s only because they’re filled with milk. They eat 4 times a day also, although their diet is strictly regulated. They cannot eat meat, for example, only fruit and vegetables, like the apples I was paring for her while we talked. And lots of sugar too.

“So today is the big day, huh?” Miss Keller was sitting at my kitchen table, massaging her breasts.

She’d removed her blouse as soon as she walked in and then taken off her bra as well. She wasn’t used to being dressed. Her 38D boobs are impressive, but not as large as they would eventually be. Cows in their 30’s routinely reached 44DD and larger, but they didn’t get out much. Miss Keller was happy she was still small. I watched the steady leak of thin cream from her large brown nipples and licked my lips. Miss Keller is very pretty, with short black hair and nice brown eyes. The Milkmaids wash her twice a day, grooming and pampering her like they do all the cows.

“Yeah, this is it. I…” I paused, not wanting to sound defeatist, which was a serious crime. Not reporting defeatist talk was equally serious.

“What?” Miss Keller looked at me. “You can say it.” She whispered and touched the back of my hand to comfort me.

“I just wish it hadn’t come so soon, you know. I’m only 26 and there’s other women there who are nearly 30.” I smiled and recovered. “But I’m happy too, you know, doing my part. That makes it easier.”

“I’m sure.” Miss Keller nodded.

She really couldn’t say anything else since cows could keep going as long as they produced good milk, even into their 40’s and then they still worked at the dairy after that. They maintained the machines, drove trucks, cleaned, and educated the milkmaids, performing indoctrination and conditioning for the next herd.

At the meat plant, where I worked, each worker was given an alphanumeric sequence on the first day she walked through the door. And every day a computer would generate a schedule one week in advance. The number of people chosen, and who they would be, was determined by a number of factors. Age, height, weight, medical history, percentage of body fat, and the like were all part of it. The external demand in terms of quantity, quality, and delivery location were other factors. It was a big complex formula that none of us understood, but we trusted it because it was good for our country.

Women who are scheduled have a week’s vacation and access rights to a mule who would be her executor. She got to choose the method of her execution and the place, within certain strict guidelines. She was able to dispose of her possessions as she saw fit, so long as such disposal was legal, and she was generally regarded as a Hero of the State. I already had my medal and the accompanying certificate, signed by the Governor herself, framed on the wall in my den. Of course, roughly 250 women are butchered each day, providing meat for nearly 400,000 people in 7 states, so the Governor had used a rubber stamp. Already someone from someplace else had taken my place on the meatpacking floor, since my billet opened as soon as the computer had picked me.

“Did you pick an executor, or get one assigned, Miss Carlisle?” Miss Keller asked me, nibbling at her apple. I realized I’d forgotten the brown sugar and cinnamon she liked so much.

“I asked for Thomas, but he was booked solid.” I said, putting the sugar bowl in front of the woman.

“Oh, I’m sure! I’ve seen him in action.” Miss Keller smiled and scooped great spoonfuls of sugar onto her apple slices.

“So, they assigned Greg and I’m happy with that.” I put the cinnamon down as well.

“Well, he’s nice too. Real strong and still so young! I think he’s what…37? Or 38 maybe? Ted is 66 and I think they’ll have to retire him soon, he only does 5 or 6 a day now.” Miss Keller giggled and sighed around the apple in her mouth. “I love cinnamon.”

“This will be my first time.” I made a nervous face. “I don’t care who it is really, I’m just ready, you know?”

“Oh yeah! I had a mule for passing the 1000 gallon mark last year, remember?” She touched me and grinned.

“Of course, how could I forget?” I laughed. “I was so jealous I thought my face would turn green!”

“Let me tell you, Miss Carlisle, it was…fannnnnntastic! You’re gonna love it! Just make sure he does everything…and I do mean everything, you only live once!” She frowned suddenly. “I didn’t mean…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be silly!” I shook my head at her. “You’re right, we only live once. I hope he took an extra shot just for me, he’s gonna need it!” I winked and we both laughed.

“God, I should get milked 6 times a day, I think.” Miss Keller shook her head and looked at her boobs, mopping up the leaking milk with a napkin.

“Does it hurt?” I asked, going to fetch a plastic pitcher from the cupboard.

“It does when it gets close to milking time. All over too, not just in my tits. Like I have menstrual cramps or something again.” I set the pitcher down for her. “Miss Carlisle do you think you could do this for me? It’s kind of awkward.” She smiled apologetically.

“Yeah, sure, I don’t mind.” I watched as she got off the chair and knelt on the floor, getting on all fours so her large breasts hung down ponderously. “I’ve never had a menstruation, I was sterilized when I was still too young.”

“Well, you didn’t really miss anything. That’s one good thing about being a cow; our bodies think we’re nursing. At least for me, some cows still get theirs, but the drugs help too…Oh! That feels good! Thanks!”

Her body practically shivered with pleasure as I took her large puffy nipples in my fists and milked her. They were as big as my thumbs and rubbery soft, nice and warm too. I wasn’t very good at it, but Miss Keller didn’t seem to mind as her milk sprayed into the pitcher.

“A little harder please, Miss Carlisle.” She moaned softly and closed her eyes. “I’m so used to the machine I forget how good hands can feel. When the milkmaids come around, just to stay in practice, it’s so good. Always gets us so horny.”

“Really?” I asked squeezing harder and really enjoying it now. It was tiring because I have weak hands for this sort of thing, but very sensual too. “Are you horny now Miss Keller?”

“Incredibly!” The younger woman laughed and looked into my eyes. “Would you mind if I…” She rose up so she was kneeling and unzipped her skirt, letting it slide down her thighs. She wasn’t wearing any panties and I stared at the dark cloud of her pubic hair, seeing just a hint of her soft pink folds. “Use your mouth.” She whispered, pulling my face to her left breast so I could nurse on her sweet milk. Ohhh…yesss…Miss Carlisle…like that!”

I moved a hand between her thighs and rubbed the cleft of her sex gently, coaxing Miss Keller to spread her legs for me. I drank her thin warm milk as it filled my eager mouth, switching back and forth between her firm heavy breasts every few minutes. She was moaning and rocking her hips against my fingers as I banged her slowly. Her left hand was in my hair, urging me on and the other pulling up my own thin sundress so she could run her fingers from the crack of my ass up along my spine and back down.

“Mmmm…you’re so sweet Miss Carlisle, let me get this dress off of you.” I pulled my mouth away, licking my lips as Miss Keller lifted my dress over my head.

She undid my bra, sighing as she saw my much smaller tits, just 34B, but they’re average for a meat girl. I’m 5’10” 140lbs with 9.66% body fat. I’m all meat; high in protein, low in cholesterol, lean and tender and FDA approved for human consumption. I’m proud of my body and the Premium Grade 1-A++ rating that was stamped on my left buttock.

“I love your body.” Miss Keller sighed, pushing me back to lie on the cold linoleum of my kitchen floor. “Milk me.” She commanded with a smile.

She was laying on top of me with her pussy against mine, my legs spread around her hips, her arms stiff and propping her body up so her great tits hung just over mine, our nipples rubbing as though to start a fire in my flesh. I grabbed her nipples again, squeezing and pulling so her milk squirted in soft jets onto my body. I bathed in her that way, grinding our clits together, feeling her cunt juice dripping down to mix with mine. It was better than anything I’d ever imagined and I wondered why we’d never done this before.

Miss Keller lowered her mouth to mine, crushing her boobs against me as our tongues danced lightly between our mouths. I ran my hands along her back, down to cup her ass and pull her hard against me. We rocked back and forth like that, our bodies hot and wet with Miss Keller’s milk until I could barely stand it. She grabbed my legs behind my knees, kissing down my neck, kissing my nipples and my tummy and finally burying her tongue in my aching pussy as she pushed my legs forward, so my knees almost touched my shoulders.

“Oh! Miss Keller!” I gasped. “Ohhhh…please…yes! Don’t stop!” I was quivering with pleasure as she mouthed my burning pussy, licking me from my anus to my clit and back. Digging a sweet furrow of delight between my plump labia and sucking my hard little clit to maddening attention.

“I’ll make you a milkmaid yet, Miss Carlisle!”

I heard the woman’s breathless voice as my orgasm screamed through me. She moved her mouth to my ass, tonguing me roughly and stiffening it so she could work the tip inside my tight little rosebud. I felt her nose on my slit, her hot breath on my skin as she sucked and licked and wormed deeper, opening my ass and making me claw the hard surface of the floor uselessly.

“Ohhhh…God! Yes! Yes!” I was screaming now, so loudly I was sure everyone in the neighborhood could hear, but I didn’t care just as long as Miss Keller never ever stopped!

“Hold your legs now.” Miss Keller told me and somewhere in my dim overloaded mind I understood and replaced her hands with mine, keeping my body bent double, my ass rolling up off the floor.

She rubbed one of her beautiful fat tits across my pussy, teasing me with the huge swollen nipple. I begged her to fuck me with it and she did, working it in and out of my pussy, just enough to make it feel so good. She squeezed and sprayed her warm sweet milk into my cunt and it was like pouring gasoline on a fire. I shuddered and moaned as I came again. Miss Keller repeated it with the other one, giggling breathlessly as she watched my reaction. She squirted so much it was pouring out of my slippery hole, running wetly down my ass and pooling beneath me. She smacked my pussy with her boobs playfully, dragging those hot firm pillows of flesh across my slit and making me beg her to let me cum again.

“Give me that sweet ass, Miss Carlisle!” She laughed and pushed a finger inside my virgin anus, twisting and making me gasp with wonder at the new sensation. She mouthed my cunt again, sucking and swallowing her milk mixed with my girl juice while she worked another finger in my little hole. She pumped me for a dozen long minutes, sucking my clit until it was too sensitive to take anymore and I had to scream my reluctant protest. She pulled her fingers free of my ass, sucking them and kissing my ass one last time before letting me collapse completely into a heap of exhausted orgasmic flesh. I just closed my eyes and gasped for air, smiling and shivering as she watched me.

“Oh God! Miss Keller…That was…Unbelievable!” I grabbed her hand and brought it to my lips, kissing it gratefully.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Miss Carlisle…I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” She leaned over to kiss me gently. “With today being my last chance, well…I wanted to show you.”

“Wow! You did!” I laughed and shook my head. “You sure did…Can I…” I bit my lip and rubbed my hand up and down her arm. “Can I show you too?”

She shook her head with a sad smile. “I need to get back, almost time for my bath and afternoon milking. The milkmaids will take care of me, they always do.” She kissed me again. “But I’ll be thinking of you, Miss Carlisle. For a long time.”

I lay there a good long while, still bathing in the glow of her attentions and feeling the floor wet and sticky with her sweet milk. I’d had thousands of lesbian experiences, we all did since that’s all we could have, but no single one compared with what I’d just shared with Miss Keller. But I always say that after every one, I think. Anyway, I was very happy.

It’s hard to believe that lesbianism was once considered a deviant behavior, albeit only briefly. President Penelope III, also known as ‘Penelope the Pure” was convinced that our problems had been caused by the loose moral standards before Pandora. That the Pandora virus itself was a social disease caused by deviant sexual behavior. By executive order she decreed that all sexual activity not required to propagate the human species was abhorrent and contrary to the mental and physical well being of our culture. Masturbation was considered anti-social and first time offenders underwent a public clitoridectomy, removing the clitoris and labia minora. Lesbianism was a much more serious offense and the Great Salt Lake became a mass grave. Chemicals were introduced into the drinking water to curb sexual desire and the personal appliance industry leader, VibraTec, dropped 312 points on the Miami Stock Exchange in 1 day. The suicide rate amongst teens skyrocketed and this became known as “The Year of Lies”. They even made a mini-series about it, which is the only reason I know so much. Luckily for the country, Vice-President Allison staged a coup d’etat and Penelope III was ousted along with her cabinet. Penelope’s preserved head is on permanent display outside the Reddy House, still impaled on a pike.

Lesbianism was once again legalized and encouraged as a valuable resource for the expression of community compassion and unity. President Allison, later known as “Allison the Wise” was re-elected the following year and established the “Sapphos Medal” which recognizes young women from all castes for social excellence at a special banquet held every 3 years. The last 4 women from my caste, the meat workers, have all been posthumous awards, although they were indeed present at the banquets. I thought I had a shot at it a couple years ago, I was nominated, but it didn’t happen. Life is full of little disappointments though, and it just makes us appreciate and emulate the winners even more.

These days the only activities that are considered deviant are those that involve males. That’s one of the reasons Jimmy and the other boys all have Secret Service protection. Sometimes a woman will just…go a little insane. A few months ago one of the boys, a 10-year-old named Henry, was at a woman’s house, eating ice cream and enjoying himself, when the woman asked him if she could see his private parts. A moment later the woman’s brains were all over the refrigerator. It was generally agreed that the woman was overcome by curiosity, since she had never seen a penis before, outside of photographs. I’ve never seen one either, nor have most of the women I know. I’m curious too, naturally, but I’m not a deviant. I’d never try to look.

It was getting on into the afternoon now and I forced myself to get cleaned up. I bathed and changed my clothes and then got to work on my kitchen, getting that all straightened up. I started preparing some carrots and potatoes to go with the roast I was going to cook. I know everyone tries to feed the Executor when he comes by, but if he’d moved me all the way back to seven tonight then I was probably his last stop, and he’d be hungry, I was sure. Besides, once I told him where that roast came from, I knew he was going to want some! I smiled to myself as I worked.

I was just getting the onions done when my doorbell rang again. It was after two and I wondered who on earth it could be this time!

“Miss Sanderson!” I smiled and held the door wide. “What a surprise! Come in, please!”

“Hello Miss Carlisle.” She kissed me on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“I was just chopping some vegetables, but I need a break.” I smiled. “Would you like some tea, I’ll start a pot?”

“Oh, that would be marvelous!” The tall lanky blonde followed me into the kitchen and sat down while I started some water boiling.

“So, what brings you here?” I glanced at the clock and realized she should still be at work. Miss Sanderson was meat, like me, and we’d worked side by side for almost 8 months now. Unless… “Did your number come up?” I paused what I was doing and looked at her. She was only 19 and it couldn’t have come up already.

“Oh no.” She laughed. “Nothing like that. I’m your butcher!” She smiled brightly. “You were nominated for a Sappho, remember? The Mayor saw you on the Executor’s schedule and she wants you for some luncheon tomorrow she’s hosting for the Breeders.”

“Really?” I smiled hopefully. “You’re not teasing me, are you Miss Sanderson?”

“Really!” She laughed at me and pulled out an envelope, breaking the red wax seal and reading it. “Our Dearest Miss Carlisle…” she looked up and her bright blue eyes twinkled. “…Her Regal Excellence, Mayor Patricia the Fourteenth requests the honor of your presence at 2pm, Thursday 12 March, 527 A.P. for the 227th annual Breeders Luncheon, to be held in the Red Room of the Four Seasons Hotel, Midtown.” She handed me the note. “RSVP…I took the liberty of responding to her office your most eager acceptance of Her Excellency’s kind invitation.”

“T-Thank you!” I read it twice and looked up as the pot started whistling. “Wow. That’s …something…isn’t it?” I couldn’t help smiling.

“It sure is, if you have to go…” She stood up and pushed me into a chair. “Why not go with style? Some girls have all the luck!” Miss Sanderson chuckled as she fixed our tea.

Once she sat down I looked at her. “You have the menu, right?”

“Of course, I do!” she sipped her tea and lifted her eyebrows at me. “Yeah, they’re doing a luau kind of thing this year, so I’ll be roasting you.”

“Ah.” I nodded thoughtfully. “That’ll be nice then. Mmmm…” I did some mental figuring. “About 8 hours?”

“Close to that, yeah. They’ll do it slowly over a low fire, I talked with Miss Herm, the Mayor’s chef, and she’s coming over at 4am. I told her you had a pretty good-sized barbecue pit in your backyard and I thought you might like using it one last time. Otherwise she’s got to take you to Eve’s Fillet, that restaurant around the corner from the Four Seasons, since they’re the closest with a big enough pit. Then they’ll charge the Mayor an arm and a leg!”

“Probably more than that.” I shook my head in agreement. I’d eaten there a couple times and even their sandwiches were outrageous, but it did taste good. “Yeah, I’m glad you told her to use my pit. I never did get enough use out of it anyway.”

“Well, tomorrow you will.” Miss Sanderson grinned and we sipped our tea. “I have some papers for you, since you won’t be riding in the meat truck. Your Executor should have gotten these, but like I say it was a last minute thing.” The young woman dug in her purse and pulled out several folded pages. “Here’s your disposal waver.” She slid one in front of me.

Some people arrange to have their heads disposed of separately, since there is very little meat value and it’s mainly decorative. Usually its left to friends or co-workers, who have a big going away party and put the head in a place of honor; sometimes by a business, who will have pre-purchased a woman’s head if it is especially attractive for advertising, window dressing, and things like that, or much more rarely, if the meat is religious the head may be disposed of by the Angel’s of Sol, being burnt and the ashes scattered at dawn, or sunset, I forget which. Of course I was going to be roasted, so they’d need my head. Probably with an apple in it.

Miss Sanderson watched as I signed and slid another one over. “This is your consent to be spitted alive, rather than slaughtered.”

Slaughtering, which was a legal right of the state to perform, was done in several ways. Hanging, Beheading, and Electrical Shock were the three methods normally available; since they were quick, easy, and did not negatively impact the meat quality or quantity. Other methods, like Spitting, which was either performed while the meat was still alive, and/or significantly altered the meat’s value, required the meat’s consent, as well as the Executor’s. It was rather uncommon because of the paperwork involved. Of course, the wishes of the Mayor had a way of cutting through red tape.

I signed that one and finally… “This last one is to declare the beneficiary of your award for being the meat at the Breeder’s Luncheon. It’s a ration award of 100 credit hours.”

“Why so much?” 98 hours was 2 full weeks of work for me, 14 seven-hour days. This was even more than that.

“Hey, you were nominated for an award, remember? Besides, it’s the Breeder’s and if the Mayor didn’t pay a lot for you someone would probably be offended.” Miss Sanderson laughed. That was about as close as she’d dare come to saying anything remotely disrespectful about a caste so much higher than ours.

“Yeah, I think so too.” I said with a giggle, just so she wouldn’t worry. I smiled to myself as I wrote Miss Sanderson’s name in the Beneficiary Block. I signed it and handed it back. “When the Executor gets here he’ll need to witness it.”

“What? Why? I can do…oh!” Miss Sanderson read her name and looked up. “Me? Are you sure? I’m already getting overtime for this, Miss Carlisle.”

I smiled at her and drank my tea. “I’m sure, Miss Sanderson, you were a good girl to work with. I enjoyed it.”

“I…I enjoyed working with you too. Boy! Thank you.” She looked quite pleased and I congratulated myself silently.

“Hey! I need to get this roast in the oven if it’s going to be ready when the executor gets here.” I got up to finish chopping the vegetables and Miss Sanderson was kind enough to help me. I got my roasting pan out and started working on some broth for the gravy while my friend unwrapped the meat.

“Is that Miss Reddy’s rump?” Miss Sanderson held the perfectly wonderful piece of meat up, examining it carefully.

“Why yes, how did you know?” I smiled and stirred a bit more flour in my big measuring cup.

“I’m right next to you at work, remember?” The blonde laughed. “I recognize those two little moles she had next to her anus.” She sighed and pushed her finger into the hole, wriggling it. “I was trying to be extra careful when I cored her ass because they were so cute.”

“You did a nice job too, Miss Sanderson.” I nodded and she put the rump roast in the pan.

“I learned from the best!” She nudged me with her elbow as we stood close together putting in the vegetables. “Stick that carrot in there, no the big one.” I shoved a large carrot in the small hole where a tight wrinkled anus used to be. “Yeah. Miss Reddy would have liked that.” She’d always been proud of her ass.

“Yeah.” I agreed and we admired our work for a minute before I covered it and put the pan in the oven.

We washed our hands together in the sink and shared the towel, drying them off. “Do you know what I’d like to do now, Miss Sanderson?” I started unbuttoning her blouse, my green eyes doubtlessly flashing with mischief.

“What’s that, Miss Carlisle?” The blonde woman’s voice was soft and husky.

I slipped my hands inside her blouse; popping three tiny buttons carelessly off. Miss Sanderson’s body was a lot like mine, hard and lean, with great muscle tone and very little fat. Even her boobs, small and firm, were bred for eating. Like mine.

“Fuck your brains out.” I felt her breasts filling the palm of my hands and I dug my fingers into them, squeezing Miss Sanderson hard enough that she let out a little yelp.

“Make me bleed, Mistress.” Miss Sanderson closed her eyes and bit her lip as I let go of her left breast and reached for the big chef’s knife I’d used on the vegetables earlier.

We’d played these games before, meat games that we’d grown up with and practiced on each other countless times.

I cut across her right breast, not very deeply, but enough to leave a 3-inch long razor thin line of crimson. She gasped and I put my mouth on it, licking and sucking at the distinctive flavor of her life.

“I wish you were an artist, Miss Sanderson, I would have bought your life a long time ago.” I breathed, cutting her other breast the same way, pressing my palm against the nipple this time so her breast flattened and bled between my fingers.

“Oh, Miss Carlisle…” She moaned. “Buy me…do it…please!”

But I shook my head and dragged the tip of my knife down her sternum, pricking her belly button and then cutting into her skirt. “No. I won’t…you just remember this when your number is called. Remember how much I loved you.”

I cut her skirt away easily so that it fell to the floor between us and I slid the blade flat across her lower tummy, inside her panties and across her clit until the point cut through the thin nylon material, pointing straight down between her long lean legs.

“But I…I want you to do it…butcher me, Miss Carlisle…” She was thrusting her hips, pushing herself against the knife and I turned the blade outward, slicing through the front of her panties so they fell apart like torn butterfly wings.

“No.” I told her, rubbing the handle between her labia. “I can’t, I don’t own you.”

She was almost crying, hunching herself down so the blunt odd shaped handle of the knife penetrated her cunt. I squeezed her small hard breast again, they were both running with crimson rivulets and I smeared that wetness over her flushed skin.

“B-But you could…” She wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tight.

We’d had this conversation before, many times, Miss Sanderson and I. We’d been lovers for 6 months, almost monogamous and that was a real rarity among the lower castes, but not so much for meat. Women weren’t encouraged to be devoted to one person, because such attachments created feelings that were anti-social. But Miss Sanderson and I were meat; we were immune to the illusory fears of the other castes. Our devotion was based on sacrifice and many of the women from our caste had taken one lover as someone particularly…special. Even though it was almost suspiciously anti-social.

I would have bought Miss Sanderson if I could have. Anyone can buy anyone, that is the law. Provided both parties agree and 90% of the individuals anticipated value is paid to the state. For 19-year-old meat like Miss Sanderson, that would be over 18,000 credit hours.

“Yes, my love. I could.” I lied. “But then who would I find to spit me?” I smiled at her and as she opened her mouth to reply I kissed her hard.

I teased Miss Sanderson’s tongue until she pushed it into my mouth and then I bit it hard and our mouths filled with her sweet blood. She jerked and hugged me tighter and I threw the knife with a clatter to the floor as I wrapped my arms around her as well. I picked her up easily, all 120 pounds of her, as though she were a bundle of meat at work, coming off the hook. Miss Sanderson wrapped her legs around me and I put her on the kitchen table, not caring what was spilled or knocked off to break on the floor. Our lips were still tightly together, my tongue caressing hers, and feeling the deep gash left by my teeth. I lifted my bloodstained mouth and looked down at Miss Sanderson, naked on my table, blood running from her lips and the two cuts on her breasts. She was so beautiful.

“Don’t move.” I warned her and she giggled at me.

I undressed quickly, throwing my bloodstained dress on the floor and peeling off my panties. I looked around and grabbed the plastic bottle of vegetable oil and opened the refrigerator, finding the biggest, hardest cucumber I had. About 10 inches long and 5 inches around, cold and hard as a rock. I popped the top of the bottle and squeezed golden slippery vegetable oil all over Miss Sanderson’s cunt, smiling and shaking my head.

“Hold on.” I stopped and opened my cupboards one by one, looking…looking…ah finding a roll of good strong twine that I’d had forever without knowing why. I pulled Miss Sanderson’s legs up, spreading them so I could tie her ankles to the legs of my table, the ones up near her head. Her body was bent double, her knees touching her breasts, the way mine had been earlier. I then tied her hands flat along her sides, to the opposite legs of my rectangular table. Her legs pulled her towards her head, and her arms pulled her towards her butt, it was perfect. And she was spread wide and inviting to my pleasure.

I grabbed the vegetable oil and poured again, using half of the bottle on her pussy and ass. I massaged the cucumber as Miss Sanderson watched me, grinning and swallowing her blood occasionally.

“What are you going to do with that, Miss Carlisle?” She asked me innocently.

“I’m going to show you how to core someone’s anus, Miss Sanderson.” I replied. “This might hurt…just a little.” I laughed and put the big blunted and only slightly round end of the cucumber to her tight little butt. “Open up, Miss Sanderson!”

I twisted the large vegetable as I pushed it against her tight little hole. She flinched against the sudden chill of it and I could see her trying to relax her ass, but it was going to be tough getting that big green monster in her ass. I pulled it away and shoved my finger inside quickly, before she realized I was doing it and my knuckles slipped past her sphincter easily. I poured a little more oil over my digit as I slowly fucked it in and out, working her ass a little in the hopes of loosening her up.

Miss Sanderson was breathing heavily, plainly enjoying what I was doing and I grinned at her. “You’re having too much fun now!” I pulled my finger out and grabbed the cucumber again, this time deliberately ignoring her protesting ass muscles as I gradually forced it inside. “Take it, you beautiful meat!” I was almost growling at her as I twisted the cucumber like I was screwing it into her asshole. “Take it all the way!” I shoved harder and watched as her little ass stretched around it, swallowing the big slick phallus slowly but surely.

Miss Sanderson’s moans became shrill and she cried out with pain as the cucumber forced her ass open. It was brute force against instinctive resistance and she was losing, much to my delight. I heard her voice begging me to stop, but there was no way, and no point in it either, Miss Sanderson already had half that beautiful green shaft in her ass, just a couple more inches and I’d be satisfied. I slapped her ass hard, leaving red splotches of heat on her pale skin and I shoved the cucumber home with a loud grunt. The woman’s screams of protest died with a soft whimper as she realized I’d stopped pushing. I stood back, wiping my hands on a dishtowel as I stared at that massive thing jammed deep in my pretty co-worker’s ass.

I moved to kiss her face, seeing little tears in her eyes from the pain. “Did it hurt, Miss Sanderson?”

“Y-Yes Mistress.” She replied and her lower lip was quivering sweetly.

“Did you like it, Miss Sanderson?” I brushed her long blond hair back out of her shining blue eyes.

“Yes Mistress.” She whispered.

“Do you want to see what I can do to your cunt?” I smiled at her.

“P-Please Mistress.”

“Good girl.” I kissed her again and moved back to stand between her widespread legs. The cucumber stuffed in her ass looked so good, with 7 inches jammed inside and maybe 2 inches sticking out. I gave it a little nudge, laughing as Miss Sanderson squirmed with a cute squeal of surprise.

I rubbed her pussy, slippery and soaked with vegetable oil. It glistened beautifully and made the thin tangle of her blonde pubic hair matted and almost transparent. I rubbed her slit slowly, feeling the heat radiating out of the girl and I thumbed her clit while I worked my other hand against my own wet cunt.

“Have you ever been fist fucked, Miss Sanderson?” I asked her casually, clenching my fingers into a fist and rubbing my knuckles across her puffy mound.

“N-No…No Mistress.” She sounded a little afraid.

“Do you want to try it?” I pushed two fingers easily inside her pussy, curling them to feel the soft little ridges and bumps around her vaginal opening.

“Y-yes, Mistress.” She swallowed hard. “Please…Fist fuck me.”

“Oh my sweet Miss Sanderson.” I stroked her cunt gently. “I will…and then I’m going to eat it.” I felt a delicious shiver run through her body.

I worked my fingers in and out slowly at first; spreading her sweet little pussy and making her jerk and murmur approval. I wanted her to feel so good, so wonderfully good before I hurt my little blonde lover. I tickled at her g-spot and rubbed her clit until it was hard and straining with purpose. It was big as the tip of my pinky and bent my mouth to it. Blowing softly at flicking it with my tongue until Miss Sanderson was screaming with her first orgasm. I sucked her clit hard, dragging my teeth across that ultra-sensitive piece of flesh until the poor girl beneath was writhing in an effort to get away. It was sensory overload of the best kind, torturous and so good that it quite literally hurt. I kept at it, ignoring her cries and moans, sucking even as I pushed four fingers in her cunt, made all the tighter by the huge cucumber stuck deeply in her ass.

I rammed my fingers in and out, lifting my mouth finally to get more room. I pushed my fingers together, pulling my thumb to my palm and working my hand inside. I could feel her muscles resisting, the hardness around her vagina yielding only reluctantly, painfully so that Miss Sanderson shook and begged me to stop. I laughed at her and shoved my hand hard, feeling the widest part of my palm squeezed and then almost popping inside as Miss Sanderson’s glorious cunt swallowed my fist. I flexed my fingers and watched her face changing; pain changing to something else, something new and I started moving my hand inside her. The tight warm walls of her cunt hugged me, the hardness of the thickness stuffed in her asshole was plain and I gave it small strokes through the thin flesh that separated it from my fingers.

“How’s that, Miss Sanderson?” I was gasping and just rotating my fist slowly one way and then the other, dragging my knuckles across the interior of her cunt.

“Oh, Mistress! Sweet…sweet love…oh! Fuck me…please! Hurt me now!” She stared into my eyes, daring me to get rough and I knew she would love me no matter what I did to her.

“I will, Miss Sanderson.” I pulled my fist back a little, watching her pussy lips stretch around my wrist. “I’m going to hurt you, my love, very badly.”

I rammed my fist as hard as I could in the all too short space between my hand and the bottom of Miss Sanderson’s cunt. She screamed as I slammed into that soft wall, feeling the woman’s body jump with the sudden explosion of pain deep in her womb. I backed off again, punching into her cunt over and over until I felt my own soaked pussy collapsing on itself and my knees going weak with my impending orgasm.

“Take it, Miss Sanderson…Love my fist!” I was screaming at the girl, fucking my hand as deep as possible and I watched her eyes rolling back in her head. Spittle and blood ran from her lips as she panted, overcome by the insensate pounding of my fist in her womb. I grabbed the cucumber with my left hand, twisting and shoving it savagely deeper, fucking it in and out of her stretched ass in time with the fist in her cunt.

I finally yanked that huge green phallus free, grinning with satisfaction as her ass gaped, red and raw and glistening just below my wrist where it disappeared in her stretched pussy. I leaned forward, “Open up Miss Sanderson!” I slapped her face with the cucumber, slimy with oil and juices from her ruined ass. She turned her face, gasping for air and I shoved the vegetable into her mouth, jamming it as deep as I could, until it forced her to gag and choke violently. I left it there, watching her body spasm with pain and fear, “Good girl!” I whispered.

I pushed my left hand into her ass, fisting both of Miss Sanderson’s holes as hard as I could. I felt the stronger, bigger muscles resisting me and I punched against them with every bit of my strength until I felt her bowels go wet and sticky with blood. I was destroying the poor woman’s ass and I flexed my fingers as if trying to grab the warm mass of flesh and rip it out. I punched her cervix again and again, watching her face contort into beautiful masks of pain. I nearly collapsed as one precious orgasm after another rolled through me. I sank to my knees; my hands still buried in her body and closed my eyes, trying to remember how to breathe.

I pulled my hands out slowly, enjoying the sensation of her hot tortured flesh resisting even that merciful movement. My skin was red with blood and flecked with mucous and unknown bits of Miss Sanderson’s insides. Both of her holes refused to close behind me, remaining cavernous openings with blood spilling around them. Her body was unbelievably hot, and her face was pale. She’d passed out and her breathing was slow and shallow. I tried to wake her, but she refused to come around. I sighed and untied her, washing her gently and finally calling the hospital for an ambulance.

If Miss Sanderson died, it would be a simple death by misadventure. We wouldn’t be in any real trouble and most of her body could be salvaged for meat, but it would be a lot of paperwork because she was unscheduled. It was a lot easier with the lower castes; the seculars especially were good if someone wanted to play rough, and after awhile they were usually more than happy to do it. But Miss Sanderson was meat and I knew she wanted to be slaughtered, not go like some priestess looking for her Sol in the depths of pain.

Two medical technicians rang my doorbell some 15 minutes later, I’d told the hospital that it wasn’t serious and they’d taken their time.

“What happened to her?” The older one asked. She was short and Hispanic, which was uncommon, with luxurious jet black hair and looked very professional. Her dark eyes looked like they’d seen just about everything.

“I was fisting her, in the cunt and ass, when she passed out.”

“Are you okay?” She asked, looking me up and down.

I was still naked and I nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Okay, well let’s take a look at her. What is she?”

“She’s meat, we both are.” I replied, staring at the dark haired girl’s partner and biting my lip. She was younger maybe 22 or so, a cute redhead with dimples and I slapped myself mentally for being so horny.

They went to work, checking vitals and all that stuff. “You guys want some coffee, or something?” I started a pot and they nodded.

“What kind of lube were you using here?” The redhead asked, smiling at me.

“Uh, vegetable oil.” I smiled back and caught myself subconsciously rubbing my clit as the girl stared at me.

She clucked her tongue at me. “You should use something water based next time; oil isn’t really great for the insides.” She was small too, very petite and she pushed a gloved hand easily inside Miss Sanderson’s cunt, poking around gently. “Feels like you really clobbered her cervix; it’s swollen, got some definite tearing and lesions. The vaginal walls too, really bad. I’m gonna need a light.” Her partner handed her a penlight and she flicked it on, peering inside my lover’s vagina. “My name’s Miss Hagen, by the way. This is Miss Lopez.” She nodded at her partner.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Miss Carlisle.” I started getting out some cups and saucers.

“So you like fisting, Miss Carlisle?” Miss Lopez asked me with a little grin at the other medical tech as Miss Hagen started checking Miss Sanderson’s bleeding asshole.

“Yeah, I love it.” I poured three cups and went to the refrigerator to get some cream.

“You should try my partner sometime. Miss Hagen loves getting it that way!” She laughed as Miss Hagen blushed furiously and clicked off her light.

“Does she?” I looked at the sexy redhead and imagined her tied to my table. “Maybe if she isn’t busy tonight…”

“I get off at midnight.” She frowned. “That’s probably too late for you, huh?” She sounded sincerely disappointed.

“Oh, I don’t know. I wouldn’t mind getting off at midnight with you.” I laughed at the terrible line and carried their coffee over. “How do you take it?”

“As hard as possible.” She smiled sweetly, matching my juvenile wit with her own.

“Thanks for the coffee, Miss Carlisle.” Miss Lopez peeled off her surgical gloves and sipped from her cup. “Your friend is going to be okay. She won’t be running any marathons for awhile though.”

“Won’t be walking any either!” Miss Hagen chuckled. “I love what you did to her ass! Wow! The muscles are totally wrecked. She needs stitches and she’ll be a mess for a week, maybe longer. And she needs a gyno bad, probably some stitches there too. Good thing she’s already sterile, if she was a breeder there’d be a ton of paperwork! We can drop her, if you want.”

“Sure, yeah. That would be great.” I drank my coffee as well, suddenly wishing I hadn’t gotten so carried away. I was going to need a new butcher now.

“Maybe I should, uh, check you out, Miss Carlisle. Just to be safe, you know.” Miss Hagen’s green eyes twinkled.

“I don’t know Miss Hagen…” Miss Lopez looked at her watch.

“Oh, it’ll just take a few minutes. I’ll write it up, okay?” Miss Hagen grinned at her partner. “Okay, so…a little check-up, Miss Carlisle?”

“Yeah, maybe you should.” I laughed. “Here?”

“Sure, just lean on the counter there… That’s it…Stick that gorgeous ass out…now spread your legs for me…perfect!”

Miss Hagen positioned me so I was bent over my kitchen counter, with my legs spread wide and my butt high in the air. Miss Lopez chuckled and shook her head, but Miss Hagen dropped to her knees, spreading my tight ass and blowing on my anus so I shivered slightly.

“I love asses.” She sighed. I squirmed and moaned as I felt her tongue wriggle around my anus. For the second time in one day I was having my ass eaten by someone who really knew how to do it! She kissed and sucked my ass until it was nice and wet, and then shoved a finger inside, twisting and bending it to feel how tight I was.

“You ready Miss Lopez?” I heard Miss Hagen ask and I turned around to look over my shoulder, smiling when I saw the small dark girl wearing a large hard strap-on penis. It looked lifelike and wonderful, swaying provocatively from her narrow hips as she walked over to stand behind me. Miss Hagen spread my ass and guided the smooth tapering head to my anus. “Fuck her good, Miss Lopez!”

And she did! She pushed that big plastic cock in my ass with one long slow powerful stroke, stretching me and making me moan with the painful heat of my ass being stretched around it. Miss Hagen got down lower to lick at my pussy while Miss Lopez started fucking me good and hard. I came within a matter of minutes and didn’t stop until Miss Lopez finally pulled her dildo free of me with a strange popping sensation as the pucker of my sphincter snapped suddenly shut.

Miss Hagen stood up, her face wet and shining with my juices. She kissed me gently and I sucked the sweet tang of my cream from her tongue eagerly. “Now clean Miss Lopez.” The redhead pushed me down to my knees so I could take the plastic phallus in my mouth. I tasted my own ass as I licked and kissed every inch of it, bathing it with my tongue and lips until it was good as new and not trace of me remained.

“Mmmm…Miss Carlisle, we’ll see you at midnight.” Miss Lopez grinned as she removed the strap-on and put it back in her medical bag.

“I’ll bring the lube!” Miss Hagen kissed me again, sliding her hand down my back and fingering my ass for a long minute. She sucked her finger thoughtfully after we broke our kiss. “I love the way your ass tastes.” She breathed and she smiled mischievously.

I watched as they got Miss Sanderson on a stretcher and wheeled her out of my house. I handed Miss Sanderson’s purse to them and what was left of her clothing. We said our goodbyes and I went back in the house to check on my rump roast.

It was coming along nicely. It was almost five and about another hour I thought, and it would be perfect. I picked up the phone and dialed Miss Coleman’s home number; she was my shift supervisor at work. I caught her on the train as she was on her way home. She was surprised to hear from me and I hated having to tell her that Miss Sanderson was in the hospital.

“What happened?” Miss Coleman asked me, her voice filled with concern.

“Well, we were having sex and I started fisting her and…I guess I got carried away.” I could see the train was full and several women looked over Miss Cole’s shoulders as they caught what I was saying.

“I see, okay. She was acting in her capacity as your assigned butcher, right?”

“Yeah, she’d brought over some paperwork and we were discussing the process when it happened.” That wasn’t totally accurate, but it was close enough. This was meat business and the plant had a saying: “Meat takes care of its own”

“Okay, so that’ll be covered by workman’s compensation then, no problem.”

“Great. Just one other thing though, I’m going to need…”

“A new butcher, right.” Miss Coleman finished for me. “Do you have a preference?”

I thought for a minute. “How about Miss Bane? She’s done spittings before and I like her a lot, she’s cute.”

“Okay, give me 10 minutes, okay Miss Carlisle?”

We hung up and I cleaned my kitchen. It was closer to 15 minutes before Miss Coleman called me back, but she’d gotten Miss Bane for me. I was pretty happy about that. Miss Bane was the girl who’d broken my cherry a long time ago, it seemed only fitting she’d be the one to finish me off.

Miss Bane called me about 10 minutes after I’d finished speaking to Miss Coleman.

“Hi Miss Carlisle, it’s me, Miss Bane.” She was smiling happily. “Heard you ran into a bit of trouble with Miss Sanderson today. A little…fisting accident!” She laughed and shook her head. “Miss Coleman sent me the details, I’ll be round about 3am to get you started, okay? So set your alarm, I definitely want you awake when I shove that big hard rod up your pretty little tush!” She grinned and hung up before I could even get a word in. She was like that.

I started getting ready for my Executor with a good hot bath, washing myself thoroughly inside and out. I shaved myself everywhere, except for the thick auburn hair on my head. I perfumed myself and powdered myself, and spread sweet luxurious skin cream across my skin. I wore a simple dress of blue silk and nothing else. It was so thin as to be practically invisible and I liked the way my hard body looked underneath it. I took my time, trying to be patient and ignore the excitement that built as the clocked ticked every so slowly towards the first and only time I’d ever have sex with a man in my life.

I turned off the oven at 6:30, opening the door to vent heat, but leaving the pan inside to stay warm and keep basting in the rich juices surrounding it. I set the table and lit candles, I turned on some music that I found relaxing, and I sat down to wait. That was the hardest part. Seven o’clock came and went and I began feeling nervous, by 7:10 I was wondering if he’d forgotten about me. He should have called, I thought, starting to feel a little angry with him. I wondered if he was with someone else right then, with another woman, who was pretty maybe, or exotic, or something that I wasn’t. I felt jealous for the first time in my life and I wondered at it. I’d never even met this man, but already I felt…attached, somehow. It was strange and I didn’t understand it at all. What kind of power could a man have that would make me feel this way? Was it like this all those centuries ago when men were a dime a dozen? I couldn’t imagine feeling angry or jealous or guilty over someone if there were millions of someones just like him around every corner. No, I was sure these feelings were peculiar to my strange circumstances. Women of the Pre-Pandora age had been so lucky! I wondered if they’d known it.

At 7:20 my doorbell rang. I jumped up and ran to it, but I stopped and stood like a statue. He’d made me wait; now it was his turn. I smiled secretly as I heard the doorbell chime again a half minute later.

“Miss Carlisle?” He was standing there with a thin briefcase and a single rose. “My name is Greg.”

“Oh, I…Won’t you come in…Greg.” I suddenly didn’t know what to say. I’d never really spoken to a man before. I mean I had, sometimes, but not really…talked. I rolled my eyes and frowned at myself. Say something! I commanded myself. But I just held the door open and smiled as he came into my house.

“It smells great!” He looked around.

“What?”

“Whatever it is you’re cooking, it smells very good.” He smiled at me. “I took the liberty, I hope you don’t mind.” He held the rose out.

“Oh, thank you. It’s…lovely.” I blushed because I had no idea what I was doing. “I’m…it’s a rump…roast, a rump roast…thing…ah…” I shook my head. “I’m nervous.” I decided to confide for some reason, feeling my face burn.

“Me too.” He smiled again and I took a deep breath. He didn’t look very nervous.

“Oh, please, sit down. I…would you like a drink? I have…oh…just about anything. I didn’t know what you’d like so I...” I giggled. “I got everything.”

“Some wine would be fine.”

“Great, uh…red? Reddy?”

He laughed. “Whatever you prefer, I trust you Miss Carlisle.”

“Oh.” I smiled and wrestled with that. What if he didn’t like the wine I did? What if I got him red and he really wanted white? Ohhhh! I gritted my teeth and settled on red. It would go well with dinner anyway.

I sat down in the chair opposite Greg on the sofa. “You can sit over here, Miss Carlisle. It’s okay.” I felt foolish as I got up; moving to sit down on the sofa next to him like it was a bed of hot coals. “We should get the paperwork done first, don’t you think?”

“Sure, I…”

“And then we can enjoy that dinner you’ve made, I can’t tell you how much I was hoping you could cook.”

“Really?”

He nodded solemnly. “And after dinner, if you’re not too tired, I was thinking perhaps I might find a way to thank you.” His hand touched my knee, ever so lightly. I felt my heart beating quickly in my chest and I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything.

Greg was a good-looking man, although in all honesty I had precious little experience to compare him to. He was about 6 feet tall, with brown hair, graying on the sides. He had a bald spot on the top of his head that he tried to comb over, but it didn’t seem to work too well. He had blue eyes with deep crow’s feet at the corners, a large wide nose with a big mole on the end of it, and a few long black hairs sticking from his nostrils. His lips were thin, and when he smiled I could see his teeth were a little crooked, despite a lot of apparent dental work. He had a large belly that jiggled around when he moved or laughed. My well trained eye figured him at about 220lbs dressed out, so he was probably close to 250 just sitting there. He had short legs and long arms, that all seemed to bow inward, like an ape’s. He made me swoon with the desire to see him naked!

But business first.

He opened his briefcase and took out a folder and a pen. “Now, normally Miss Carlisle as Executor, I would also be your executioner, but you already know you’re being served at the Mayor’s Luncheon tomorrow, right?” I nodded. “So, we don’t have to worry about this,” he turned a page. “or this,” he turned another one. “or this one. Do you have the paperwork Miss Sanderson was supposed to bring by?”

I remembered it and went to get it, making sure he signed as a witness that I’d given my Award to Miss Sanderson. He filed those away neatly.

“Now, you’re leaving your estate to one person, is that correct? And that person is a Miss Keller, a cow, correct? Okay, and let’s see. You have accumulated 24,873 credit hours of Social Security benefits, which is equal to 115 credit hours payable to the charity of your choice. Do you have a charity in mind?”

“Uh, yeah…the Make a Fist Foundation.” I changed my mind at the last second as I thought of Miss Sanderson. Originally I was planning on giving it to Masturbator’s Anonymous. I went to a meeting once, but they just rubbed me the wrong way. And I wasn’t sure about the snacks either, three women tried to finger my powdered donut before I could even take a bite. And the woman who was moderating the group, she walked over during a break and asked me if I came there often. So all in all, I was glad I’d fisted Miss Sanderson into the hospital, it gave me a better charity.

“Ohhhh…That’s a good one. Helping those poor girls get back on their feet, eh? Well, good for you, Miss Carlisle.”

“Can I…Ummm…” I blushed.

Greg set his papers down and looked at me. “What is it Miss Carlisle?”

“Could I see your penis?” I sucked some air through my clenched teeth, not really believing I’d just said that.

“You don’t want to wait until after dinner?” His smile was patient. “It will still be here, I promise.”

“I don’t mean we have to…uh…you know. I just…” I sighed. “I just want to see it and…” And I didn’t know why.

“Sure, I guess so.” He stood up and unzipped his pants slowly, reaching inside his trousers to pull his member free so it hung there, long and thick, despite being flaccid.

I stared at it and it began to harden, without either of us touching it at all. Greg had his hands on his hips, watching me with some humor as I stared at his cock.

“How many…” I started.

“How many women have I had sex with?” He looked at me. “You’ll be number eight for today.”

“Oh.” I said. I frowned slightly wondering why I’d expected any other answer.

“You are easily the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in a long time, Miss Carlisle.” His cock was standing out stiffly, looking huge and wonderful. It was bigger than that cucumber had been, 10 inches long easily and so thick I’d never get my fingers around it. “I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry.”

“Why?” I asked, as his words suddenly registered. Was I really beautiful?

“As a mule and especially as your Executor I am required to maintain a…certain distance, a detachment from my personal opinions.”

“I see.” I said, unbuttoning my dress.

“I’m like anyone else, you know…I find attractive people far more pleasant than ugly people, I enjoy my work more with a beautiful woman, than with one who is plain. But my…function…requires me to treat all women with equal…interest.”

“Uh-huh.” I pulled my dress over my head, tossing it carelessly on the floor and shaking my hair.

“I think you are the most attractive woman that I’ve ever been with and I find that very agreeable.” He swallowed as I took his hardness in my hands, stroking it up and down.

“It makes me…oh!” I kissed the head of his penis experimentally. “…Makes…uh…makes me wish that I could…Oh, Miss Carlisle!” he groaned as I licked along the underside of that fat cock, determined to explore every inch of him with my eyes, hands, and mouth.

“What do you wish?” I murmured, hefting his warm hairy balls in my hand.

“That I could…buy you…Ah…yes…kiss my balls!” He watched as I kissed his balls, amazed at the silky softness of the scrotal skin, taking one finally in my mouth to suckle it gently.

I pulled my mouth away with a soft plop as I sucked his ball until it came free of my lips. “You could buy me?” I rubbed the crown of his cock with my palm, feeling the wetness leaking from him.

“N-No…I couldn’t because you’re meat…” He backed away and put his cock back in his trousers with some difficulty, it made a nice little tent and a wet spot appeared. “And, you’re the Mayor’s meat, to boot.”

I blew a long sigh between my pouting lips. “Yeah.” I rose and picked up my dress.

“Leave it off, you look wonderful.” Greg kissed my cheek and we went into the kitchen.

I felt his eyes on me as I prepared our dinner, removing the roast and putting it on a fine silver platter, in the center of the table. I retrieved bowls of condiments from the refrigerator, sweet olives, pickled vegetables, and small salads for us to enjoy. A little breadbasket with sourdough rolls and glasses of chilled red wine, all served by candlelight. It was special and I enjoyed the improvised ceremony of it.

“That’s a beautiful roast, Miss Carlisle. It smells wonderful!” The now richly golden brown rump had turned out very nicely and I was proud of it.

I cut the left buttock into thin slices, serving Greg first and then myself. “I have a little surprise for you; this is Miss Reddy’s rump that we’re eating.” I served Greg some vegetables that were hot and soft and flavored by the meat.

“Really?” He cut a portion of his meat and put it in his mouth, chewing slowly. “Mmmm…oh my, Miss Carlisle! This is wonderful, it’s melting in my mouth!” He took a sip of wine while I thanked him with a little smile. “Miss Reddy indeed. You know, two days ago I had my penis right here…” He gestured with his fork to the little hole were her anus used to be.

“I knew you were her executor. I thought you might like to have her this way as well.” I felt my nipples hardening as I shared that delicious ass with the man who had first fucked it and then killed the woman who owned it. “You beheaded her, right?” I sipped my wine.

“Yeah, I used a portable and did it on her patio. She had some amazing orchids, a real green thumb.” Greg nodded, taking another bite before continuing. “And the most perfect ass, really. I cut off her head just as I started cumming inside the woman. That, Miss Carlisle, is an incredible sensation.” He smiled at me. “Miss Reddy’s body jerked a foot in the air, let me tell you.”

“I’m sure.” I served us some more of Miss Reddy’s perfect ass. “One of my friends at work cored that ass and we could see it had really been stretched. The body was already cleaned though, before we got it, it would have been fun to see it full of your cum.”

“Heh.” Greg laughed. “I’ve heard about those girls in cleaning and dressing, they probably turned her inside out and made chip dip from all the spunk I shot in her.”

I laughed too, but only because that was entirely possible. The girls who washed new meat, inside and out, were all inexperienced and loosely supervised. It was hard getting into too much trouble with just a water hose, a vacuum cleaner, and a gutting knife. Still, they tended to do things the rest of society could only shake their heads at. I’d been there, I’d done stuff like that, but trying to explain it to someone not of my caste was usually a waste of time.

After dinner, I cleaned up while Greg sipped his wine. He took a small pillbox out of his pocket and swallowed a little white tablet.

“What’s that?” I asked him, bending way over to load my dishwasher, farther than I needed to in fact, but I wanted him to like my ass just as much as he had Miss Reddy’s.

“It’s a chemical, stimulates semen production…No fertile sperm, of course…but it will make an awful lot of cum in a very short time.” He winked at me.

“I thought they gave you a shot for that, or something.” I closed the dishwasher and leaned back against it as it started vibrating gently. I spread my long legs and looked at the man in my kitchen.

“They do, yeah, every morning and that’s good for 10 or 12 good loads.” He got up and started unbuckling his pants. “But I want to make sure I get 3 or 4 more before the night’s done.”

He undressed completely and his cock was swelling again. “You are so fine, Miss Carlisle.” He was holding his belt. “Do you want make love? Or do you want to get fucked?”

I laughed a little nervously; this was finally it. “Fuck me first.” I said. “No, fuck me twice…then we’ll think about making love, okay?”

“Suits me, Miss Carlisle.” He walked over to me, looking me up and down. “If you weren’t the mayor’s lunch, I’d buy you and rape you every day for a month.” He used his hands to turn me around so I faced the kitchen counter. “A bitch like you doesn’t cost much at all either, a few thousand hours of meat time…that’s like a hundred hours of mine. Did you know that, slut?”

Greg grabbed my wrists and jerked my arms back painfully, pushing my shoulders down and kicking my legs apart. “N-No…I didn’t…knoooow!!” He rammed his cock in my pussy without warning, driving his hips hard and tearing into my unprepared vagina. I screamed loudly and my body wanted to get away, but his strong grip held me fast, twisting my arms until I thought my bones would break.

“Fuck you have a tight cunt, bitch. I’m gonna like this…” He pulled back slowly and then jammed his entire huge penis inside again, repeating this torturous process for 15 long minutes while I cried and yelped and moaned with painful pleasure. “You better get a lot wetter than this, slut, or your cunt is gonna be ripped to shreds by the time we’re done!” And he wasn’t kidding either, his cock felt like a knife stabbing into my guts, over and over, knocking the wind out of me until I was dizzy.

Greg let go of my wrists and grabbed me underneath my hips, picking me up off the floor and backing up. I grabbed the small handles on my cupboards, to keep me from falling over. He didn’t seem to care at all what happened to me from the waist up. I hooked my legs backwards, around his thighs, forced to pull myself tight to his huge cock as it nestled inside my womb. He chuckled and started bouncing up and down, as though trying to shake me loose from him, but all it did was drive that stiff painful prick back and forth in rapid jolts of pain. It was bone-jarring treatment and I started sobbing for him to stop.

“Oh you nasty fucking bitch, you like that don’t you?” His voice was deep and breathless, and his fingers dug into my soft flesh. “You don’t really want me to stop, do you?” He bounced again and the giant knob of his cock exploded against my cervix. “You want to make me cum, that’s all. I know you…you just want a big load of man cum in that hungry little hole.”

He yanked me backwards, ripping my fingers from their purchase so I started falling down and for a split second I was sure I was going to land face first on that cold hard floor. But Greg was pushing the rest of me down too and I caught myself with my hands as he pressed against me.

“Get that ass in the air, bitch!” He pulled me so my ass was high and my face laying flat on the linoleum. He started pounded my pussy harder then, faster, driving inside me with a fury of thrusts that finally started feeling good. His hard hot shaft slid over my clit and I warmed up all over. The sharp pain became a dull ache and then nothing at all as the first sweet wave of pleasure rolled through me. I was going to cum, any second. I was so close…

Greg pulled out of me suddenly, yanking my hands back again so I gasped with surprise and pain. “Don’t cum yet, slut.” He growled in my ear. “Me first!” He turned me around and pulled my mouth down to his cock. It was huge and hard, the head swollen purplish and slimy with our fuck juices. “Suck it now, you beautiful bitch!” He pulled my mouth on his cock and I took the head inside, swirling my tongue all around it. “Oh fuck…you’re good!”

I moved my mouth up and down, gagging only slightly as the head pushed back to my throat. My jaws ached from stretching so wide, trying to accommodate his size. I could barely hear what he was saying, all I knew was that my abused pussy felt like it was on fire, and his cock tasted so…good. So different from women. I didn’t know giving a good blowjob from giving a bad one, I just did everything I could think of and that was enough. I doubted that many of the women Greg had been with had been anything but 1st time cocksuckers. We were all amateurs when it came to men.

“I’d buy you…rape you…and ugh! Execute you! Oh! Fuck…open your throat, whore!” Greg grabbed my head in his two hands and pulled me hard as he rammed his cock repeatedly against my throat until it was sore and bruised and finally opened so the entire length of him suddenly filled my esophagus. It was very uncomfortable and I felt panic rising in my breast as I couldn’t breath at all. Greg stroked my bulging neck, feeling it swollen around his cock.

“I could kill you this way, Miss Carlisle. Would you like that?” I was starting to struggle, instinctively pushing against him. “You could suffocate on my hard cock and then I’d fuck your dead cunt.” I pushed harder, jerking my body as my burning lungs heaved. “But you’re so lovely, what a waste that would be.” Greg pulled his cock out and let me get a deep coughing breath, and then he did it all over again. He fucked my throat hard, not wasting time on trying to teach me any technique; he just raped me. I loved it.

I don’t know how long it took, but eventually Greg started cumming. First I didn’t know what was happening, because his long penis was halfway to my belly and I didn’t recognize the sensation of his cock jerking in my very sore throat for what it was. But I could feel something in my tummy, a new warmth, a little something filling me and then I knew. He shot his load with exuberance, holding my head and groaning, telling me what a whore I was for eating his cum. He pulled back so the last few spurts filled my mouth and he fucked the head of his dick in and out of my lips, watching the creamy salty goo as it spilled out around him.

“Oh that was good, Miss Carlisle.” He pulled his penis away and brushed my hair from my eyes. “You did say to fuck you twice right?” His voice was gentle and I nodded, my mouth still full of his cum. He chuckled, “Well then, let’s do some ass raping! Swallow that cum, bitch and get back on your hands and knees!”

I swallowed painfully, my throat felt like someone had stepped on it. The texture and taste of Greg’s sperm wasn’t really terrible, but it did make me want to puke, in all honesty. It was like eating snot. Probably the only reason I didn’t was the thought of how much it would hurt my throat. I thought if there were a billion men running around, I’d never ever let one cum in my mouth. But since Greg was all I would ever have, I wanted to do everything. Even that.

“How’d that taste, bitch? Pretty yummy? Don’t worry, I got more where that came from!”

I tried to answer Greg, but my voice was hoarse, like a rasping whisper. Too much screaming, too much cock slamming into my tonsils maybe. Whatever it was, I wasn’t going to be making a whole lot of noise, or so I thought.

“You got a cute little ass, not as pretty as that whore Miss Reddy had, but pretty damn cute.” He pushed my head and shoulders down to the floor while his still hard cock slid back and forth wetly between the twin globes of my ass. “I’d love to lick that little shit hole of yours, but I got so much cum building in my balls I don’t think I can wait that long.” He positioned the head of his giant cock at my tiny anus. “So I’m gonna have to do it dry, bitch!” He started pushing slowly and I felt my sphincter giving way to the swollen head of his penis.

It felt like someone was pushing a red-hot piece of iron in my ass and I protested with my rasping voice. “No…Greg stop…I…I changed my…miiiiiind…ahhhh!!” I was screaming as his cock popped in my rubbery little ass and he immediately grabbed my hips, thrusting so hard I thought he’d drive it all the way into my stomach.

“Too late, bitch!” Greg laughed with triumph and slapped my ass a few times as I fought the incredible pain that enveloped my ass like a fire. “Yeah, you stupid cunt, fight it!” I was trying to crawl away and I couldn’t help but squeeze my ass, trying to push him out. He fucked me with long hard strokes, shredding my ass muscles and the soft walls of my rectum and colon. He was killing me with that prick and I finally knew exactly how Miss Sanderson had felt earlier that afternoon.

“Oh damn, bitch! Your ass is so fucking hot!” He moved higher so his cock was pointing almost straight down and the new angle was terribly painful. It tore into new places and I screamed until I thought my throat was bleeding. “You’re a noisy cunt, huh?” Greg slapped my ass again, pausing with his 10-inch cock buried in my bowels. “Shhhh…” He whispered. “Breathe…there you go…take a deep breath…” His voice was soothing and I sucked air, grateful that he’d finally stopped his assault.

Greg rubbed my back gently and the sharp pain started going away, leaving the general burning ache that I thought would stay with me forever. He pulled his cock back slowly and it felt good. “Thank you…thank you…” I whispered. But he stopped short of removing the head.

“Feel better now?” He asked and I nodded. “Good. Now sing for bitch!” He jammed his cock hard all the way back in and my whole body jerked and spasmed uncontrollably. My mouth was open but no sound came out, I was bathed in pain as his balls slapped against my pussy and the fat swollen head of his pricked reached even deeper until it couldn’t possible go any further. He fucked me like that for a long while before he told me he was going to cum and finally sprayed his hot seed in my guts, filling my ass with it.

“What a great fuck you are!” he worked his cock back and forth, churning his cum in my stretched burning ass. “The best fuck I’ve had all day!”

He yanked his cock free of me and told me how my asshole gaped, red and torn, stained with blood, shit and cum. I reached back to feel it, and it was like a little cave of flesh, my muscles burned and refused to work. My once tight little butt had been horribly abused and I sobbed at the realization.

“Stop your crying, bitch! You wanted it. Now clean me up!” He presented his dirty cock; still hard from that little pill he’d taken. I looked up at him, my face red and wet with tears from my puffy eyes.

“I…I thought we could…m-m-make love…” I said.

“Yeah, I know bitch, but raping cunts like you is so much more fun!” He grabbed me by the hair and slapped my face hard. “Now open your cockhole up and suck it!”

Any fight I might have had in me was long gone now, I wept as I did as I was told and I took his dirty penis in my mouth licking and sucking at it until Greg had had enough and started raping my throat again. It hurt so much like that, I thought he was going to break my neck.

“You don’t know what it’s like being a mule.” Greg was telling me as he rammed his cock in and out of me for punctuation. “All I do is fuck. All day, everyday…bitches like you trying to be real women for one moment in your pathetic little lives. Stupid fuck meat bitch! The state says I have to satisfy you, make you happy for your sacrifices, for your hard work, for not making trouble. You’re nothing; don’t you get it? Just meat! I hate you!”

His words shocked and hurt me far more than anything he could have done to my body.

“Make love to you? Ha! You have no idea what love is. Neither do I. The state says love is ‘…the dedication of the individual to the well being of society.’ So this is making love, Miss Carlisle. I’m doing my job. That’s love. When those stupid bitches eat you tomorrow, you’ll be doing your job. That’s love. Now get on your back, I want some of your cunt.”

Greg fucked me six more times, cumming 4 times in my pussy and twice more in my ass. I was incapable of moving. My vagina had been torn apart, bruised and bleeding. Just a mass of pain that left me curled into a fetal ball, too weak to even cry properly. My ass was worse still, the muscle shredded and ruined. The floor of my kitchen was stained and slippery with blood and semen. I held myself, shivering and sobbing silently, but no more tears would ever fall from my eyes. He’d stolen that capacity as well.

He picked me up and leaned me against the counter. I could barely stand and I felt like my pelvis was made of melted burning rubber. Wetness poured down my thighs as Greg handed me a pen. “Sign this, it basically says you were well satisfied by your Executor. That your experience with me was pleasurable and rewarding, that the quality of my service was even greater than you’d ever expected possible.”

I signed my name in a shaky almost unrecognizable scrawl. Greg took the paper and the pen. Kissing my cheek and giving my breast a little squeeze. “Thank you Miss Carlisle. You have a pleasant evening, I’ll see myself out.”

He left and I collapsed onto the floor.

I lay there until Midnight, when I heard my doorbell ring. It was Miss Lopez and Miss Hagen, but I couldn’t bear the effort of standing, let alone walking. Thankfully they let themselves in and discovered me there on the kitchen floor.

“Miss Carlisle! What happened?” Miss Hagen ran over, very nearly falling down as her foot slipped on the wet linoleum. “Miss Lopez, get the kit would you?”

I tried to talk but my voice was gone from the screaming and the abuse of being throat fucked so horribly. She got me up finally, helping me into the living room and laying me on the carpeted floor.

“What happened to her?” Miss Lopez was opening up their medical bag and started taking my blood pressure.

“Must have been her Executor, look at all the semen.” Miss Hagen stroked my face tenderly. “Your Executor did this?” I nodded weakly. “They’re assholes, the only reason they don’t go to rehabilitation for being deviants is because they’re men.”

This shocked my fogged brain. The meat caste worshipped mules; I thought everyone did.

Miss Lopez agreed with her partner. “I wouldn’t let one of those bastards touch me with a 10 foot pole. They seem all nice and respectful when you meet them, but they’re animals really. That’s why they only get meat, like you, Miss Carlisle.”

What? My head was spinning; I thought every woman had an Executor at one time or another. I thought that’s what we aspired to, worked so hard for.

“Yeah, I don’t know why they don’t let the lower castes use the Adams.” Miss Hagen was using some kind of miniature moleculizer on my vagina, I didn’t know they even made portable models, but I wasn’t complaining because it felt very good. “The Adam II Series is really good, I got one last week and I swear, he can do anything you can imagi…”

Miss Lopez cleared her throat pointedly and stared at Miss Hagen. “Ah, right. You don’t need to hear all this chit-chat.” She finished with my pussy and started working on my ass, while Miss Lopez scanned my throat, mouth and chest. She had a similar device and used it to repair my injured esophagus. It still felt sore, but the bruising went away and the lesions were healed in a matter of minutes. My voice was hoarse but I could talk.

“T-Thank you…I…didn’t know you could…do that…” I looked at the devices in their hands.

“Oh, well, you still don’t okay? We aren’t supposed to use these for minor cases, or any cases really, involving girls like you.”

“Like me?” I stretched my legs, and my ass and pussy felt sore and tender, but the burning was gone, my muscles knitted back together.

“Meat.” Miss Hagen said. “Or cows, any of the lower castes.”

“B-But why?” I was confused. Why was Miss Sanderson in the hospital, getting stitches, if they had machines like these?

“Don’t you worry about it okay? How do you feel?” Miss Lopez helped me sit up.

“I feel good. Thank you.” I looked at Miss Hagen. “What’s an Adam?”

“It’s a clone, a male…uh…pleasure device. It takes care of my house, my yard, and me…when I want it to.”

“Miss Hagen…” Her partner warned.

“It’s okay, Miss Carlisle won’t say anything, besides…she’s going to be slaughtered in a couple hours anyway.”

“Still, you know the rules…do you want to be reconditioned?” Miss Lopez said that word like it was the worst thing in the world. I’d never heard it before.

“You…you have a man?”

Miss Lopez gave me a shot with a hypogun. “Here, this will pep you up.” I felt energy rushing through me and I felt immediately better.

“A clone, yeah. Sterile and dumb as a brick, but he loves me. Kind of like a dog, really, just a little taller.” Miss Hagen had decided to ignore Miss Lopez.

“I thought cloning didn’t…work…that the scientist had failed.” I was so confused. I rubbed my arm and stretched.

“Failed? No, cloning works fine, the problem is that cloned studs have to go through the Pandora cycle, like a bred male…And it’s more expensive than using Breeders, and the gene pool would get very small very fast, just cloning a few studs. So they clone Adam, who was a mule with more dick than IQ. And Adams are particularly resistant to Pandora-E, which is the RNA strand that causes them to die, they only have 60% mortality rate. The original died a long time ago, of course. It cost me about 150 credit hours, but he’s all mine.”

“I thought…Don’t you need an…Executor?” I looked at the two women.

“Whatever for? Nobody slaughters us; we have lawyers to take care of our business when we die. We work, take vacations, get old and pass away. In the meantime we watch holo-vid and go on picnics.”

“But…”

“She’s just meat, Laura, you know better.”

“L-Laura?” I looked at Miss Hagen. “Y-You have a first name?”

She laughed. “Of course I do. Miss Lopez does too; her name is Samantha. But we just caller Sammi, don’t we?” She smiled at he partner. “We share a duplex in San Francisco, it’s a long commute, but we love the neighborhood.”

“You don’t…live…here?” I was surprised.

“Here? No, the only people who live here are Cows and Meat, a few dissidents and admin people. Everyone else commutes. Have you ever been to anyone’s house who wasn’t meat?”

I thought about it. “No…No I haven’t” I looked into Miss Hagen’s soft eyes. “But why don’t they tell us this? Why…?”

“Because we need the meat, Miss Carlisle. We need you to feed our country. And if women like you could live wherever you wanted, take vacations to anyplace you felt like going, own a man, or marry a woman if you wanted…”

“You can…marry?” I wasn’t sure what the word meant exactly, but I knew it had something to do with being in love, real love.

“Yep.” Miss Lopez smiled and took Miss Hagen’s hand. “Laura and I are getting married next month. We’ve already requisitioned your friend Miss Sanderson to be the main course at our reception.”

“Wha…What? But her number…she’s only 19 and…”

“We know, but she’ll taste so delicious!” Miss Hagen licked her lips.

My head was swimming. “I don’t…understand.”

“I told you Laura, these girls aren’t bred for intelligence, you’re just confusing the poor thing.”

“I guess your right.” Miss Hagen sighed. “I’m sorry, Miss Carlisle, I shouldn’t have told you all that.” She started undressing. “Besides, I think you promised to fist me within an inch of my life!”

Miss Lopez retrieved a holocam and smiled at me. “We always record it, I hope you don’t mind…”

A thought occurred to me as Miss Hagen lay down on the floor, spreading her legs for me in anticipation. “If they’ve told us…me and the rest of the meat…all these…lies, then…what lies do you think they’ve told you?”

Miss Lopez looked up from the camera and glanced at Miss Hagen, but neither of them said anything.

I was as good as my word and I fisted the lovely Miss Hagen as hard and violently as I knew how. She was a tough little girl though and she could take it, but I knew now that no matter what I did, they could fix it in minutes. I vented the confused anger I felt at my life, at finding out things were not as they seemed. I punched and clawed and battered every inch of Miss Hagen’s cunt that I could reach. And then I did her ass, just for good measure. I loved her so much that I hated her for it.

Miss Lopez filmed us happily, watching her friend and fiancé being broken. It wasn’t the first time, I was sure. They’d played this game before, probably telling some other woman the same stories, the same lies. It dawned on me that nothing they’d said could possibly be true. There was no paradise outside this city, no males you could buy, no weddings, no happy-ever-afters growing old with the one you loved. They’d said that to torture me, the way Greg had with his body. They were hopeless and desperate because they were unhappy with their lives. But me, I was meat and I knew my purpose. I served it faithfully and I loved it. I didn’t need to lie, because I knew the truth. These other people were just jealous of my happiness. I decided they were anti-social and I needed to make a citizen’s arrest.

I pulled my clenched fist violently from Miss Hagen’s ass, ripping the tissue with a little spray of blood as I tore 4 inches of ragged colon out with it. I excused myself as Miss Lopez continued filming her partner. Miss Hagen had long since passed out from the pain. I retrieved my carving knife and walked back into the living room, moving behind Miss Lopez and grabbing her unceremoniously by the hair, pulling her head suddenly back and cutting her exposed throat, just the way I’d learned as a child and practiced over these many years. She jumped back, staggering around for a bit before falling to the carpet, gurgling and clutching at her throat as crimson blood pumped quickly from the wound. It would take her less than 80 seconds to die. My personal best had been 40 seconds with a woman named Miss Frost, but her blood pressure had been extreme.

I used the healing device on Miss Hagen. It was fairly simple, there were buttons for scan and repair. It just looked for bad tissue and fixed it. I didn’t know if it could actually re-grow lost tissue, like the little pile of flesh that had been her colon, but it would be enough to revive her.

I smiled as she started coming around. “Oh, that was…great!” She whispered weakly. “Where’s Miss Lopez?”

I pinched Miss Hagen’s left nipple, pulling her breast taut and then slicing the firm pale globe of meat completely off with one deft cut. She screamed and I thought she’d start to move, but mostly she just lay there, staring in horror. I put her breast on her tummy and cut the other one off. She passed out then, which was probably for the best, because I removed the sweet fillet of her cunt then. Being very careful to retrieve it in one beautiful piece, working the knife down to get her entire vagina and the pillow of her cervix.

I had to work quickly to prevent her from bleeding to death, blood was pooling between her legs alarmingly fast. I used the moleculizer and watched as the wound that had been her vagina closed, tissue rebuilding, but not as it was previously. She merely had a hollowed out space where her vagina had been, covered with soft pink new skin. The same for her breasts and there was no scarring at all. Her chest was flat and smooth, only twin pinkish circles showed where her tits had once been.

I collected my trophies and took them into the kitchen. Miss Bane and I would have a nice snack, I thought. I thought about calling an ambulance, I was sure Miss Hagen would some kind of reconstructive surgery, just so she could pee again, but then I thought I’d probably get in trouble for what I’d done. It was technically anti-social to kill and butcher two women who were not scheduled. Plus they were from a higher caste and that would mean a lot of paperwork, I was sure. Nah, I decided, those two liars could wait. Miss Lopez certainly wasn’t in any big hurry.

Miss Bane showed up right at 3am sharp. She’d brought a meat truck with her, but all we really needed was the Spitfire 1200, an old but very reliable model. She looked around my living room with some surprise. There was a lot of blood every, Miss Lopez had run around for few seconds and redecorated most of my walls and furniture with her blood before finally collapsing.

“What happened here?” She asked, smiling and shaking her head.

I was wiping my hands, standing in the doorway of my kitchen. “I made a citizen’s arrest. You wouldn’t believe the things these women said.”

“What happened to this one? Her body…” She was looking at Miss Hagen.

“Oh, they had some healing machine that grows new tissue. I made some breakfast for you, a vaginal omelet with fried labia on the side, and some breast rolls with spinach and garlic. They’re really good.” I led Miss Bane into the kitchen. “Oh! And I saved the clitoris for you too, I know how much you like it.”

“Thank you!” She picked up Miss Hagen’s little clit, still surrounded by a very decorative sheath of flesh and popped it into her mouth. “Oh my! She’s great!” Miss Bane made a face of pure joy.

I bathed while Miss Bane ate, washing myself everywhere once again. It was just for me really. I was going to be cleaned anyway, after I was spitted and before I was roasted, so I didn’t worry about my insides so much. The fire would take care of my skin and hair. The Mayor’s chef arrived about 4am, just as we were setting up in the backyard. She saw the corpse of Miss Lopez and was very happy, saying she could use the extra meat for stuffing. She’d thought I was smaller, for some reason, and probably hadn’t prepared enough. So, she worked on that while Miss Bane and I finished with the Spitfire.

It was a good machine, all stainless steel and leather. “Okay, Miss Carlisle, up you go.” Miss Bane helped me into position, lying on my stomach with my arms out like wings and my legs pulled up, knees bent and spread as wide as possible. There was a chin rest, a pair of cushions that went under my shoulders, and a rest for each of my legs, soft pads that molded to my shins. I probably looked like a frog trying to fly. Straps went around my shoulders, another around my neck, and two each around my legs, binding my thighs to my shins. A laser measured my body at different points and Miss Bane positioned me until a green light started beeping.

That was the only problem with the 1200 model; it was tedious and required the meat to hold her position. The new 1750 model had computer controlled pressure pads that conformed the woman to the position required and kept her there. But it needed a lot of maintenance; none of us liked it very much.

I was in position though, half crouched but mostly laying there in the pre-dawn darkness. Miss Bane was usually pretty chatty, but she was being quiet now, all business and I was glad. I couldn’t talk even if I wanted to, it would upset my position.

“Hold your breath please, thank you.” Miss Bane pushed a couple buttons and the stabilizer pushed coldly into my vagina, and the head suddenly flanged horizontally making me gasp with surprise, even though I knew it was coming. It was a little painful, the dull rounded metal was not designed to cut, just keep the hips from moving at the lest second. Miss Bane walked over and adjusted my head. “Say Wow.” She told me and I did, opening my mouth wide. “Okay good. Hold that.”

She walked back to the machine. “On three Miss Carlisle. We all liked working with you lot. We’ll miss you. One…Two…Three…” She didn’t shout or anything, just said it and I thought something had gone wrong, but it was just the delay of the hydraulics.

An 8 foot long shaft of stainless steel speared into my asshole and colon, through my intestines and stomach, between my lungs, just missing my heart by a fraction of an inch, continuing through my esophagus, and emerging finally from my mouth stained with my body fluids and slamming into the receiver a foot in front of my face. That whole process took less than 1/20th of a second; in the blink of an eye, I was spitted. A half second after that, a razor sharp vibrating blade engaged my torso from a point 3 inches below my belly button to mid-sternum, gutting me quickly and letting gravity do the work as my viscera fell into the bilge below me. At the same time the stabilizer in my cunt retracted, spraying a cold-water solution as my bladder instinctively let go, washing my urine cleanly away. Finally a thousand small spikes extended from the shaft inside me, stabbing an inch or so into my flesh in all directions. They would insure that as the spit rotated, I would turn with it.

I was alive just long enough to wonder at the surprisingly painless nature of the process, and the funny almost comical appearance of that steel emerging from my mouth. I wished I could see myself, but I knew what I looked like. I was spitted and dying quickly, glad that I could serve my country one last time.

The end
rache18us@yahoo.com

Last note: If you made it this far…yikes. Aren’t we sick?