Dark Erotic Fiction

I love my job.

I mean, a lot of guys say that, but I really love my job. But then again, I don’t have a normal sort of job. I’m a meat grader and processor for an exotic meat company. What that means is that I spend most of my day grading slave women as to their “meat” status, then snuffing several of them, in various painful ways.

Of course, I’m not really grading for meat, I’m grading for hot. Really, if you want to get good meat you want a fat sloppy bitch. But we all know, the reason why we even pretend to be into eating slaves is because we want to see hot chicks on a spit, or hanging by the neck. The eating her grilled flesh after the fact is just the excuse to grade her and kill her.

Before the White Slave Act of 2000 and the Alternate Meat Act of 2001, well, I suspect I would be one of those people that the neighbors would say “he was a quiet type”, after they found the dozen dead and dismembered bodies in my back yard.

Which is not to say that there were any bodies in my back yard, you understand. By the time that the urges had gotten so strong, well, I was encouraged by the WSA of 2000 to start being paid to snuff sluts.

Like I said, I love my job. Besides, most of those guys with the bodies in the back yard only got to do maybe a dozen or so. Twenty for the real hard cases.

I get to do that many in a week.

Let me give you a recent example. Last week, the boss comes by my desk. “Josh, I’ve got a bit of a problem. We’ve got a client that wants to have a multiple-slave live spit at his daughter”s wedding. The problem is that it’s going to be Saturday, and our normal weekend guy is going to be out of town. Can you cover this for me?”

I think about it, for, oh roughly a millisecond. He just asked me if I would like to get paid time and half to snuff multiple sluts. Yeah, I can do that.

He gives me the contact information and wanders off. I call Mr. Allan Nicolea, the proud father of the blushing bride-to-be, to make arrangements. Once I talk to him, well, I would have done this one for free, much less for time and half.

It seems he has twin daughters. He told them that he was only paying for one wedding, and that would be for which ever one of them that got married first. The other one would be enslaved and sacrificed at the wedding. Well, that explained one slut to be graded and eaten at he wedding party, but not the multiple part of the order. I also noticed he distinctly said “sacrifices”, not “roasted”, or any thing like that. He explained that I would understand everything when I got there. Just make sure I had at least 6 spits, and a dozen might not be out of line.

OK then - .. I was pumped at the prospect already!

Saturday morning, I arrive at the address given. Mr. Nicolea meets me at the door, leading a stunning nude red headed girl on leash. “This is Dianne. She’s going to be the sacrifice at her sister Karla’s wedding reception. Well, one of the “sacrifices” .”

Just for what it’s worth, if Dianne had been officially graded by me, she would have received a grade of “A Prime”, which means that if she had been sold to pay for the wedding, instead of just being one of the snuff sluts, she still would have a 95% chance of being spitted any way. An “A Prime” grade, by the way, means that she was 5′7″ tall, has a C cup size, weighs between 130 and 138 pounds, has perfect teeth and has no skin blemishes of any sort. In other words, your basic supermodel with tits. There are some other considerations, but the basic thrust of the “A Prime” rating was “Damn! That’s a hot chick”

“Please take Dianne with you, and have her prepped on your machine for immediate spitting after the happy couple enters the hall for the reception at about 3:00 P.M.”