Dark Erotic Fiction

I’m working it front desk today, the intake side. I’ve processed 7 or 8 women, girls, really, so far this morning. Mainly parental conversions, which is normal for this time of year.  Most of the ones I’ve seen to day have been Grade A, with only one given the “Live Roaster Endorsement”.  All but one were straight ahead sales, the other, Jami Mcneece, being a party package, which is to say that Jami, aka the meat course, would be kept here for 10 days, undergoing various forms of torture to release stress chemicals into her blood before she would be spitted and roasted for a block party. Jami is a hot red head, I was looking forward to helping with her torture, because, hey, it’s a redhead to torture, what’s not to love there?

Well, there was another processing that wasn’t technically a sale, even though the meat did get bought.  I did one of the Beta Gamma Delta sorority girls when they brought their pledge class through on a “fact finding tour”.  Cute little brunette girl.  She got on the Jessica 3000 when asked, but did start to throw a bit of fit when the president of the chapter signed her conversion invokement, then pushed the kill switch. I can’t believe that they got their whole pledge class to sign conversion papers and give the chapter president the right to invoke them at will.  I’d lay long odds that none a single member of that pledge class will make through the year alive, much less free.

I hear the door chime go off, so I look up from my work station, where the schedule of torture for Jami was listed to see a certified blond goddess, a prime roaster if I ever say one standing in front of me.

“My name is Samantha Kebert and I need to be snuffed like the pig I am.“

This is not what I normally hear from women that come here.

Well, OK, we can do that.  Do you have your conversion request paper work?

With out a word she hands them to me. All correct. I run her name and SSN through the database and she’s currently listed as a free woman, and not a mother, with no outstanding warrants. As far as the state of Oklahoma cares, she can volunteer to make her self into a spit roast if she wants. I hand her a urine sample cup.

“I need you to fill this to the red line, please. Use that ladies room.” She returns with the sample cup in a few minutes.  She’s clean and golden. Soon to be golden brown. I entered the data in the machine and Samantha Kebert just became a meat animal.

“You need to strip and to stand here, so I can grade you, oh, and for the record, you are a person of limited rights as of this time.“

The machine did it’s digital photo and laser scan of her body, and as expected it kicked back a grade of A-LRE*, which I went ahead and changed to A-Prime. I did a fast scan of outstanding bids for blond A-Primes and found 3.  I decided to be nice and ask her which one she wanted.

“So, pig, I’ve got 3 bids for a blond with your rating.  One’s a straight roast at the McPherson’s wedding, the next is a televised live oven roast on the Extreme Food Network and the last is a request for a terminal theatrical event slave from the Hellfire Group.“

What does a terminal theatrical event slave mean?”

“Well, in this case it means you will be slowly tortured to death over the course of a dinner theater show, mainly by whipping and being pulled apart a rack.  The shows normal go on for about 3 to 4 hours.” I checked the details of the bid. “It seems that the show is in 2 weeks, and that the slave will be used as a urinal slave until the show.“   I made a few more checks and found that they had bids for a total of 7 slaves for that event, all marked terminal.  I check the coding on the blond bid and determined that it was for a back ground death, not the center stage.  “Yeah, it looks like they are going to torture a blond to death in the back ground, it’s not the main drama.  So what it’s going to be?“

She looked at me. “So, I can be part of the happiest day of some woman’s life, have my death seen by maybe millions of TV viewers or I can be abused to 2 weeks, then die a painful, but mainly pointless death as part of some community theater group?“

“Yeah, pretty much.“

“Send me to the Hellfire Group then.“

“Josh! I’ve got a renter default pick up for you. Take your pair of sluts with you…“

My pair of sluts, as he put it, were Kathy and Eve. Kathy is that rarest of slaves, a volunteer snuff slave. Of course, she didn’t get her wish. She’s just to damn good a work slave to spit. She has the right attitude for the job. Eve is, or was, a high school senior that had a bit of run in with the law., after she had her self meat graded. She, if nothing else, got her wish, seeing both Margarita Howe and Esther Halstead ride the spit before she did. Teenage girls can be quite vicious at times. Eve had ask to be allowed to be the one that pushed the button on Margarita. The boys in the back room said “Sure you can, assuming you can deep throat all six of us till we come in less than 30 minutes.” The fact that she did, with 5 minutes to spare explains why she is a work slave, not a roast. Why she is my work slave is because I’ve got seniority.

So, any way, back to work we go. I check the order, and it’s at the Riverview apartments. Nice part of town, not where I normally get sent on renter defaults. We arrive at the site, and I check in with the manager.

“I understand that you have a rental default pick up for me“
The manager, Ted Luongo, a sleazy looking bald man looked up from his papers, and sighed “Well, sort of. I rented out my biggest apartment to some sort of VIP dude. He was driving one of those BMW SUV, had a ton of cash in his wallet, the whole deal. Signed the standard rental agreement, and was a good tenant until last month, when he up and left. He had been paying cash money right on time, not a problem. But he up and left, leaving me a note that he would be back in a few months.“

“OK, I’m not following this real well. I can see you have a default, but it seems they left. Hill’s doesn’t do bounty hunting….“

“Oh, you don’t understand me there buddy boy. He’s gone alright, but he left his collection of sluts in the apartment. Said to use them for rent while he was gone.“

Eve and Kathy looked at each other, then towards me. Kathy asked “Should Eve get the Tasers out?“

I nodded “That might be a good idea Kathy“. Turning back to Ted,“I assume that these sluts, as you put it, are free women.“

“Don’t rightly know. You see none of them speak English. I think they are French, or some such like.“

It’s never simple. “So, how do you want to do this, then?“

He stood up and walked over to the key box. “Well, I reckon that I’ll let you in, you choose one, zap her, take her out, then I lock them back up.”

Eve walked back in with the girls Tasers. Just a little side note, but most of the collection staff at Hill’s don’t let the work slaves carry or use Tasers, but I do. I haven’t had any problems, well, other than one runner, Kayla Janssen. Took Kayla four days to die, on a vertical spit, using only gravity to impale her. I have 4 hour DVD of her punishment that I make all my work slaves watch before they start with me. Of course Kayla got some other tortures while she was on the spit. Over 500 lashes with a single tail, rock salt embedded in her breasts, burning her nipples and clit, all her toe and finger nails being pulled out, eyelids split open, you know, the standard snuff torture stuff. Just your basic fun weekend.

Kathy took her Taser, asking Ted, “So, what is to stop the rest of the frog sluts from running after we take the first one? We should take them all, just to be safe.“

Ted nodded, “You would think that, but I’m not worried, you see, they are locked in. The tenant left them about 5 months of food, and there is only 7 of them, so, well, with loosing one a month, they have plenty of food. If he’s not back in 7 months. well, problem solved.“

We all headed out to the 3rd building. Ted unlocked the door and we went into the apartment. We heard giggling coming from the bedroom. We kicked opened the door and saw 7 girls, all blonds or light brunettes, except for one black haired girl with a short pixie cut hair do.

They were all laying on the king side bed, nude. Eve raised her Taser and said “Tout corps s’entretenir Anglais?” [Any body speak English?]

We get no English reply. “D’accord , une de vous c’est état du terrain à devenir viande. Quiconque vouloir à volontaire?” [Alright, one of you is going to become meat. Anybody want to volunteer?] All we get in reply is “Pas de Pas myself” or something like that from all 7. I’m not totally sure they fully understood what we were asking. Of course I have no idea what Eve was saying, being a typical Oklahoman, speaking only English.

Eve turned to me. “So, now what?” I started to say something, however I was interrupted by the sound of a Taser going off and the sounds of 6 girls screaming and one thrashing about. Kathy had put both Taser darts into the dishwater blonde in the center of the bed.

“Why her?“

Kathy shrugged “Center of mass. They all are grade A and I don’t think any of then have an live roaster endorsement, so it doesn’t make that much of a difference which one we take.“

Eve had jumped on the bed, scattering the remaining girls off it. She rapidly secured this months default payment in a cross of chains and cuffs. “Need any help getting her out to the truck?” I asked. “To carry a 110 lb stunned meat bag? I don’t think so“

I shrugged. Kathy and Eve grabbed her and professionally hauled her out to the truck.

“So, when do I get paid?“

“Well you have a few options, you can take a default payment now for 500, or you can come in to Hill’s Fine Meat and get paid based on her meat grade and weight. The third option is for you take her back as meat. As it happened the third option would cost you about 100 bucks if you take it.“

“I’ll take the cash now if you don’t mind.“

“Fine, I’ll cut you a check when we get to the truck.“

As we walked to the truck, watching my work slaves carry the French girl to the meat truck, he stopped and asked “So, what is going to happen to her?“

I turned back to him “That depends. Most Grade A meat slaves that don’t have have a live roaster endorsement at Hill’s end up as back up roasters at a multi roast or as a budget roaster. If she spoke English she might have a chance as a work slave, but since she can’t, and because you sold her to us, she’s going to end up as a roast, with in the week, I suspect.“

We started walking again. “I’d like to see her on a spit. Never seen on in person. Can I come along?“

“Sorry, can’t let you ride the truck, but if you come by the plant I’ll let you watch if you want.“

“I’d like that.“

Once I got back to the truck I called the plant. Told them that I had a what I thought was a meat that might not be a US citizen. I was told that it didn’t matter, take her to the slave court to have her converted, then to the plant, we had a rush order for 15 Grade A or better spits roasts and we only had 14 on site, so we needed her as soon as possible.

The slave court looked at the documents provided by the apartment, took my statement about where the slave was captured and rubber stamped her conversion. Jeanne Doe was now slave Jeanne. All as expected. Generally speaking, once a possible slave makes it to slave court, it’s pretty much a given that she is going to be converted. This is really true in Oklahoma, home of the Committee for Universal Enslavement. 30 minutes later we headed back to the plant. On the way I called Ted to give him a time to be there.

Less than 2 hours after we kicked open the door into the French girls’ bedroom we had one of them strapped to a Jessica 3000. We made the sale of 15 live roasters. Ted Luongo got to watch his first live spitting.

I never did find out her name.

After lunch, I return to the front desk. A little after 1:00, a man walks in. “May I help you sir?”

“Oh, I hope so. I just found out my bitch wife is planning on filing divorce papers on me. I’d rather not loose half of all I know to that cunt.”

“Well, I should be able to help you, assuming, of course, you both meet the state slaving criteria. May I have both your names and social security numbers, please?”

“Sure Neil Cracraft, and the cunt’s name is Allyson”.,

I check the state database. Allyson is show as being free, with Neil as having right of conversion. She’s 25, married 3 years. No flags, so either she hasn’t talked to an attorney yet, or her attorney is an idiot, because the first thing a woman filing for divorce should do is file an abuse complaint against her husband. /Nothing listed. Allyson is going to have a bad day.

“Well, sir, I have good news for you. Assuming you can pass a drug screen, it seems you can convert your wife. You do understand that all conversion done here at Hill’s Slaves and Fine Meat is to meat status, don’t you?”

Neil nodded. “Yeah, I went by Lilly’s first. They don’t do enslave to snuff conversions there, sent me here. I want the bitch on a stick.”

“Well, sir, let us start, please fill this sample cup up to the red line. There is a restroom behind that door.”

A few moments later, Neil returns. I check his sample, and he is clean. After entering the data in to the database, I turn to him. “OK, this is how it works here. We will buy your wife from you, for the express purpose of converting her to meat. You have 2 options on payment. We can pay you our default generic amount, which is $500, or you can be paid on her grade and weight. Of course, we can’t pay based on grade and weight until she is either picked up or you deliver her here. Given that this is a conversion in lieu of divorce, I suspect you will not be able to deliver her here. We charge $75.00 for pickups, any where within the city limit of Eastlake, and a mileage fee if out side of Eastlake.”

He thought for a minute. “I’ll take grade and weight. She still pretty fucking hot, should be my better option. You can pick her up at Golden Fox tanning. I just dropped her off. She is expecting me to pick her up in an hour or so. She doesn’t know that I know that she is filling.”

Not my problem. I check the status of the trucks on the road, and find one that is both close and has an open transport slot. “OK, sir, I can have her picked up. If you would just sign here and here, we can start her conversion.” Neil signed. “How long before she gets picked up?”

“Just a moment, sir.”

I typed a set of commands into the system, which basically sent a SMS message to the work slave on the closest truck to call office. I got the call within 15 seconds. Amazing what telling the work slaves that missing messages would result in conversion to meat does to response time. After a few minutes conversation with the work slave and the driver, I have established that they only have one open slot, which I knew, and that they were about 5 minutes from the salon.

“Looks like we should have her here in less an hour.” “I’ll wait”, Neil replied.

Neil went off to our waiting room where we have a video of the various type of snuffing we do here, and a couple of work slaves to blow customers who are waiting for longer periods of time. The slaves there know that if even one customer doesn’t rate their oral skills as at least “high”, they will be in the next version of the torture and snuff videos showing in the waiting room.

After a few minutes, the phone rang. “Hill’s Slave and Meat, can I help you?”

“Ah. yes, my name is Albert Usher, and I’ calling about an email I received about my daughter Denise Usher.”

“Yes sir, she was rated this morning as A Prime. I informed her that her legal guardian would be notified. What questions do you have?”

“Well, let’s start with why you graded her.”

“Oh, that’s simple, she wants to run for ‘Queen of the Summer’ at her school, and Dutch Hall requires female royalty candidates to either be student slaves, or have a valid meat grade. Because she is a free woman, she need to be graded.”

There was a bit of a pause. “So, tell me how many women get an ‘A Prime’ grade? “

“For her age cohort, about one in 50, more or less. For women from 18 to 36, which is the upper age for it, about 1 in 350, in total.”

Longer pause. “I see. Do you really have an outstanding order for her body type?”

“Yes sir, we always have an open order for A Prime bodies. The current high bid for a brunette is, let me see, $12,549.00, plus tax, of course. If you chose to convert her, you would get 70% of that price.”

“I see. If I were to bring Denise down to your store, when would I get payment?”

“We would cut you a check on the spot. If you want cash, it would take an hour or so.”

“And what would Denise be used as?”

I checked the bidder. “It appears the high bid is to ‘High Concept Marketing’, which means, I suspect, that she would be used in some sort of advertisement. Given that they have bought, in the last 180 days, 7 from us, I suspect what ever type of ad they are making would be terminal for her.”

“Excuse me, I didn’t quite follow that.”

“It means she would be killed during the course of the ad, for what ever product or service they are marketing for.”

“I see. What time do you close?”

“5:30 sir”.

As soon as I had hung up with him, the door burst open, and I see Shelia Dewberry being dragged into the store, by an attractive older redheaded woman I took to be her mother. Shelia is wearing a bikini bathing suit, and her meat grade stamp is quite visible on her thigh. The supposed Mrs. Dewberry arrives at the counter.

“What is the meaning of THIS” she screams, pointing at Shelia’s meat stamp.

“It’s a Grade A meat stamp”

“And why is it on my daughter??”

“Because her school required her either to be a slave student or have a current meat grade to be in the election for ‘Queen of Summer’”

Mrs. Dewberry turned to Shelia and slapped her, hard. “I told you YOU WERE NOT TO DO ANY THING BUT SUMMER SCHOOL!”

I wonder how pissed she is? Sheila doesn’t have a LRE, but she still is a redhead. I like to see redheads on spits. Let me see what I can do.

“I take it. Mrs. Dewberry, that she has violated a rule of yours?”

“You could say that. She is just out of control….”

“We could help you with that…”

“I don’t know what to do any more….”

“Convert her. As you know, she has a “Grade A”, so she could make you a nice chunk of change.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t do that….”

“We also have a home BBQ package. You could convert her and have her spit roasted for a party at your own home.”

“MOM!”Shelia screams out. “It’s no big deal, all the girls get graded. I don’t know why your making such a big deal out of it. It’s not like I got sex graded again.” Perfect. Just what her hard stressed mother needed to hear.

“AGAIN?” Mrs. Dewberry turned to her daughter, “What do you mean sex graded AGAIN?”

Sheila looked back some what defiant. “Last month, Ella, Sheila J. and I got tested when they had a free one at the mall.”

Hmm… If it was a real test, it would be in the slave database. I check it. “That’s right. I see the record here. She is rated at over 85% on all three test. 95 on Oral skills.”

Mrs. Dewberry’s face turned as red as her hair. Just what I thought would happen. She turned and faced her daughter, then turned and faced me. “What do I need to sign?”

“MOM!” screamed Sheila, now realizing that her freedom, if not her life was in danger.

“Do you want to sell her to us, or have her your self?”

“Oh, I want her for all the neighbors to see. If she can have herself graded, she can have herself used.”

“I see. Do you want her with in the week or later? I ask because this makes a difference in the cost, due to the state taxes. If you have her converted to slave status, there is an additional 750 dollar tax if she is processed as meat within 7 days. If you have her converted, but wait at least 8 days to have her processed, well, we have special for that, with a total cost of $300.00. If you want her done today, or with in the week, it would be a grand, more or less.”

Sheila started screaming “MOTHER, YOU CAN’T DO THIS!” *SLAP* “Yes, I can. You have pulled you last little stunt, with your friends. I’m going to call their mothers as soon as I get through her, see how they feel about all this.” Mrs. Dewberry turned back to me “So, I assume I have some papers to sign….” As she said this Sheila turned and started running towards the door. I did two things. The first was to trigger the door lock, just in case. The second was to pull out the Taser from under the counter, and shoot the fleeing teen with it. She went down like a sack of potatoes. I paged the pick up crew from the back area to come get Sheila. Turning back to her mother. “Yes, there are a few forms for you to fill out, and I’ll need a drug screen sample.” I passed her the sample cup and the freshly printed form. “I’ve set these up for straight conversion. This means that for at least the next week, she will be used as a work slave here. After that, she will be added to our inventory as a possible alternate meat source. For the first 3 days of that time, you will have the right to purchase her as part of that special I told you about. After that time, the flag comes off her file, and she is available on a first come first server basis. If she is purchased by a third party, you will receive 70% of her pre tax sale price. Now, if you would just sign, and fill this cup to the line. There is a ladies room behind that set of doors”.

She took the papers, looked at them for a moment, then signed. “By signing those, we now have the right to hold your daughter for up to 3 days, pending drug screen, in case there might be an issue with that….”

“Oh, that will not be a problem, young man!” She took the sample cup and soon returned with it filled to the line. As she said, no issues with the drug screen.

“You said that you would use her as a work slave. What does that mean?”

“With her scores, it means, most likely that she will be used as a suck slave in our waiting area, unless one of the graders decide to use her as a helper.”

“I’m sorry about the commotion she caused, but I really think I did the right thing here…”

Yeah, keep thinking that, lady. Odds are you are going to end up a snuff slave. Seems to be the common result of converting daughters. Lots of fathers don’t deal well with that. Either way, not my problem, and possibly some extra money.

Neil came out of the waiting area, looking like he had just gotten his rocks off, several times. He staggered up to the counter. “Can I make a deal here?”

“That depends Mr. Cracraft, on what the deal is.”

“Look, the blonde Kashmir, she’s just great. I want to just do a full up trade, my wife for her…”

“We can do that, however you will liable for the slave tax, each way. That would work out to three hundred, for the tax, but it might be more, depending on value differential “

I started the paperwork for the exchange. I printed it out “This is a conversion, sale and purchase contract. You basically are agreeing to swap you wife for Slave known as Kashmir. If there is more than 400 dollars difference in the value of the two slaves, the owner of the lower priced slave must pay the difference.”

“Why $400?” he asked as he signed the papers.

After taking the papers from him, and entering into the database I explained “That is because the price difference between a Grade A and Grade A-LRE is normally under 400, but A Prime slaves are selling at very high levels. Kashmir is a A with Live Roaster Endorsement, so if your wife is either Grade A or Grade A-LRE, it’s a swap. If she happens to be A-Prime, you get Kashmir and nice chunk of change.”

Right on schedule, the pick up truck arrived. Because I had sent a message to the driver and his work slave, he decided to bring them in via the front desk.

“Yo! Josh boy! Got that wife from the tanning salon for you, plus, get this, 3 you graded this morning.”

“What?”

He pulled a paper off his clip board “I’m quoting here ‘Margarita Howe,Eva Cotto and Esther Halstead, being in violation of several ordnances enacted for public safety, plus a know level of indecency, were converted by order of the Wood Shield public safety court at 2:15, this date’, translation, they were in a car that ran a red light, and none of them had seat belts on. Normally that is just a fine, but given that they had meat stamps and the arresting officer thought they might have been racing, well, Wood Shield’s traffic courts decided to convert. We happened to be in the area, so we did a pick up. That almost filled us up, what with the farm girls and all. Yo! Cunt face! Go get the wife, I want J-boy here to see what we got. She’s fucking hot. Maybe even Prime hot.” At this, Neil looked up, and turned to me “Does that mean…”

“Doesn’t mean any thing until she is graded. Herbert isn’t a rated grader, so don’t get your hopes up.”

Kathy, aka Cunt face, Herbert’s work slave, returned in a few moments, with Allyson in a transport rack. “Put her on the grader, Kathy”

Kathy pushed the rack into place, and expertly set it up. As works slaves went, she was good, I noticed. I might put in to have her moved to me. She’s way to good to be working for Herbert.

I hit the scan, and sure enough, Allyson was in fact “Grade A, with Live Roaster Endorsement”. I ran her weight through the computer, but I could tell that she was going to be with in a few dollars of Kashmir’s value. I turned to Neil, “If you want to do the exchange, sign the 2nd contract and I’ll void the first contact. If you want to get the cash value, well, we have that on record.” Neil didn’t even think, he just signed. “When can I take Kashmir home?”

“In just a few moments sir.”

I paged the back room, telling them to bring Sheila Dewberry into the waiting room. I did a fast click on the slave name generator and decided that her slave name would be Silk. Went with the hair, more or less.

I grabbed the keys to the suck stands, and removed Kashmir from her stand. “Don’t panic. You did such a good job, your customer wants to take you back with him. Alive. You lucked out.” As I started to lock Silk into the frame, Kashmir walked into the intake area, looked around, saw Neil, then ran to him, hugging him.
“Oh, thank you. Master Neil…”

Allyson, still on the grader, started yelling “Neil, you fucking bast*ERR*”

Her scream was cut short by Kathy pushing the shock button on the transport frame. “I don’t like yelling. Stop that.” Yeah, got to get Kathy on my crew.

The two dozen or so farm girls were being rolled back into the processing area by the back room workers. I could hear the Jessica 3000 machines going off. Sounded like they used all 6.

I turned back to Silk “Hear that noise? That’s 6 slaves being processed on Jessica 3000 machines. It’s what going to happen to you if you don’t do well here. I strongly suggest that you do well here. And by do well, I mean suck cock like your life depended on it, because it does.” I looked over at “Honey” the other slave in a suck frame. I checked her ratings recorded on the frame. Marginal, I checked her time on frame, found that she had been there for over a month. I thought about it. I have new slaves for both suck frames today, and we did have a need for parts girls, despite the shipment from the slave farm. “Silk, that’s you, dear, Sheila was your free name, look at me.” She turned. I triggered the neck blade on Honey.

Several things happened at that point. The first was that Honey’s head fell off. The second was that Honey’s body fell back, spraying blood. The third, and also expected thing, was that Silk screamed. Briefly, until the sound sensor in her frame decided that she was too loud for too long. A fraction of a second after that, she was knocked out. Well, talking to her now was a waste of time now. Time to get back to work. As I started to return to the intake area, Kathy looked in. “Want me to take Jerri back to the butchers?”
“Jerri?” I asked

Kathy pointed at “Honey” “Her name was Jerri Maultsby. Went to school with me. Her boyfriend sold her a week or so before I came here. She was a cock tease.”

“Yeah, sure, take her back. Come see me when you are finished.”

“Yes, Master Josh.”

I went back into the intake area. Allyson was off the grader, but the three girls from the morning were still there. They still had their court ball gags in place, so I walked up to them. “If you scream, you will be shocked unconscious, and will be taken back to be processed. That is a polite way of saying you will be killed like the meat animals you now are. If you listen, and make some smart choices, you might not end your life on a butcher table. Margarita, of course, I don’t mean you. You are going to be spit roasted this afternoon.” Like I’m going to let a redheaded LRE slave not get put on Jessica 3000. Yeah, if that happens, that means I’m near death.

I took Eva’s ball gag out. She worked her mouth, but didn’t scream or do any thing but shake her head. “Have any thing to say?”
“Yeah. What ever you do to me, I want to see Margie get hers first. Bitch.”

“Well, then we may be able to make every one happy then. I’m going to make you a work slave, at least for awhile.” I said as I started to remove her from her transport frame. “If you run when I release you, all offers are void, and you ride a spit, just by the way….”

She nodded. “I understand. How long I live depends on how well I work. Mr. West explained about the differences between work slaves and asset slaves last year. Never thought it would matter to me, personally, but I understand.”

“That’s right. Now hop down. I want you to go through that door, find the butcher and when he isn’t busy and tell him that you are one of todays works slaves. Do what ever he tells you.” I thought about who was back there. “I suspect he will tell you to blow him while he processes the farm girls.”

“Hey, Josh, can you work the front desk today?” the boss asks as I come in the back door.

Crap. I know we have a couple live roasts today, I’d much rather do that, but when he asks, well, it’s not really optional “Ah, Sure, Incoming or sales?”

Please be incoming. Sales sucks large rocks

“Incoming, of course. Having you in sales is a Bad Thing”. I could hear the capitals.

I clock in and walk up to the front of the store. There is a group or 8 or 9 high school seniors standing in a little cluster by the door. Of course I could be wrong, but they were all wearing school shirts, with “08″ on them. Given the time of year, this makes them seniors.

“Can I help you ladies?”

A red head, who I would give a “Grade A” to, came up to the desk. “We are from Dutch Hall. They just started a new rule, that you have to either be a student slave or have a valid meat grade to be in any of the school royalty elections. We want to be the Queen of Summer, so we need graded. Ms. Walters, the dean of girls, says that the school has an account, so it wouldn’t cost us any thing, other than time and some of our pride.”

I checked the computer, and she was correct, Dutch Hall prep-school had a standing contract for doing meat grading. I noticed that the school had requested the computerized grading, not manual, which was fine with me. Not as much fun, but faster. I suspect that one to many grade had been adjusted to to the grader getting a blow job. “OK girls, I need you to strip, but keep your school ID in your left hand. Form a line by the wall please.”

With out a word, all 8 stripped down and got meekly in line. Why weren’t girls like that when I was in high school?

“OK, one at a time, step forward and stand on the scale and scanner, then hand me your ID. Once you have been graded, you may put you clothes back on, however you need to leave your upper left thigh exposed.”

The red head, who seemed to be the leader of the group asked “Why is that?”

“Because by state law I have to apply a meat grade stamp there, with the current date on it.”

The computerized grading system was a combination scale, high resolution digital camera and laser scanner, all of which feed into a computer. The software in the computer determined the meat grade based on weight and height, body shape, breast size, body or facial blemishes, body and facial symmetry. It’s good, and it comes up with what I would grade about 90% of the time. It has problems with girls that work out a lot, who weigh more than they should, given that muscle weight is higher than fat weight. Looking over this set, this is going to be a problem.

Margarita Howe - Red head (the leader) Grade A-LRE
Cheryl Garver - Blonde Grade B
Eva Cotto - Red head Grade A
Denise Usher - Brunette Grade A-LRE*
Shelia Dewberry - Red head Grade A
Ella King - Blonde Grade A
Esther Halstead - Blonde Grade A
Sheila Jorgenson - Brunette Grade A

None of the girls got dressed, waiting on the grading stamp. Several customers, on the sales side of the store were looking at them and pointing.

The LRE* means that I was to manually evaluate here, for possible “A Prime” rating. It was a toss up. I called her over. “Denise, you have the highest rating of all of y’all you even could be rated as A Prime. Do you want that? Let me warn you that if you do, there will a strong push for having you converted.” She looked, well, mixed. I could tell she was excited about having the highest rating, which I understand, it basically said she was the hottest chick in the group, but she also look a bit scared. “Conversion” does that to women nowadays. Particularly in meat slave store. She nodded “make me prime…” “OK, I’ll do it. You do understand that when I do it , a notice will be sent to your legal guardian, explaining your status, and your sale price, OK?” She just nodded.

“OK girls, line up, I’ll stamp you and you can go.” They did so, then started to leave, giving Cheryl and Denise crap, as teenage girls do, calling Cheryl “plain Jane” and Denise “meat-girl”.

Shortly after they left a couple walked in. He was, well, tweaking. She was, at best, grade B. I could guess what was going to happen. “Ah, dude, can I sell her? I need the cash, and I’ve got the stuff you need….”

Like I thought. However, I would bet 100 bucks that he was tweaking on meth even as he spoke “Sure, sir you can sell her, but I’ve got to warn you, if you don’t pass the drug screen, we are required to report you to the DEA.” This, of course, was crap, but I couldn’t buy her if he was on drugs. Didn’t want to start the process if I knew it was a waste of time.

“Oh, well, maybe later then….”

About 30 minutes later, a blonde walks in. No, she bounced in. The only way I could describe her was “bubble headed bleach blonde”

“Hi! My name is Ashlee and I want to be graded!”

“OK, I need to see some ID, and $100 please”. She pulled out her drivers license “Ashlee Christofferse” 22, free resident of Oklahoma. I swiped her license to auto fill the data into the scanner. “OK Ms. Christofferse, please strip and step on to the scale.” She giggled and pulled off her tee shirt, kicked off her shoes, then pulled down her shorts. “panties too?” “Afraid so.” She giggled and pull them off as well. I could tell from looking at her she as going to get a “Grade A” and I would have given her a LRE as well. I triggered the scanner, and sure enough, 15 seconds later the workstation reports that she is Grade A, with a LRE. I inked up the stamp “Let me stamp you. You were graded at grade A, with a Live Roaster Endorsement.”

She giggled “Is that good?” “Pretty much means your hot, but you knew that. So, want to be converted?”

It’s standing company policy to ask walk-ins hat want to be graded if they want to be converted if the rate at “A” or higher.

She giggled, “Sure, why not?”

Because it means you will be a spit roast this morning, I thought to my self, but didn’t say any thing. I don’t understand women some time. I told the computer to print off a volunteer conversion form for Ashlee. “Take this to a notary and bring it back. It’s good for 7 days. There is a notary next door. She will do it for two dollars.” Yeah, a notary that has a contract with us. Ashlee giggled, picked up her purse, but not her clothing and walked out the door.

About 5 minutes later, she returned. She bounced up to the counter and handed me the form with a flourish. “Convert me!” I handed her a sample cup “I need to run a test on you first. Please fill this to the line.” “OK, with what?”

Is this girl for real? “Pee in it. There is a ladies room behind that door.” I said, pointing. She bounced off. ‘Got to be high’ I thought as she left. While she was gone, I pulled up her record, swiped the bar-code off her request for conversion, and scanned it into the system. Assuming her pee test passes, she’s ready to be converted.

Two minute later, she comes out, moving very slowly, as not to spill the cup. She sets it down “OK, now what?” “Just wait a second here…” I took an eyedropper full, then sealed the cup. I put the 3 drops on the test card, fully expecting to see that she was on something.

Nope. Clean as a whistle. I put the sample cup in the storage fridge, and put the test card on the workstations scanner, scanning the results into the system data base. “OK Slave, please follow me.” I put the “please wait” sign up on the counter, and lead the slave formally known as Ashlee back to our processing area.

“So, fresh meat Joshua”? Steven asked as I brought her back. Not sure why he calls me that, it’s not even my name. Of course he doesn’t like being called “Steve” either.
“Yep, just converted her self.”
“Grade?”
“A-LRE”
“Good The want a demo over in sales. Put her on number 3, and process her, if you would, I’m a bit busy.”

Steven was in the process of rendering a Grade B into roasts and steaks. The girls head sitting on the butcher’s table. Ashlee looked at it with wide eyes.

I lead her back to the number three Jessica 3000 “Climb up on this, slave”

“OK, what is is”

“A Jessica 3000″

“Oh.” she said as she got on to it. She was obviously thinking about some thing, I could tell as I strapped her into it.

“Josh? What is a Jessica 3000″? she asked as I started to slide the spit into her cunt.

“It’s an automatic spitting machine. It takes women and makes them into spit roasts.”

“But I don’t want to be a spit roast! Let me off this! You have to! I’ve got a party tonight!”

I walked around in front of her. “No, you don’t. Your going to be someones roast at a party.” I pushed the “kill” switch.

The Jessica 3000 machines in the back area aren’t set for “public” slow demonstration speed, they run at full speed. Once I push the button, the meat is spitted and gutted with in 15 seconds. I watched her face. Looks like she went about 30 seconds before she died, which is about average. I paged sales on the intercom “Your demo spit is ready”.

Time for lunch.

Dianna Nicolea, identical twin sister of the bride Karla is standing with her arms attached to some attachment points above a Jessica 3000 mobile version. She has already been flogged, for a total of 60 strokes or so.

Karla, the bride to be, enters the ballroom where the spitting will take place. She and Wilfred Hitchcock, the best man confer, looking over the 8 slaves, all former friends or co-workers of Karla.

She selects Brittany McKee, a 5′ 3″ redhead, with “generous C” tits. Brittany is the classic slightly plump, very pale skinned Irish/Scottish girl you would expect with that name. Karla then selects Stephanie Frost, a 5′ 8″ tall slim blonde, who looks like your basic small tit model. Not quite up to supermodel status, but still looks like a model. She looks like she is in shock.

Karla states: “I want these two tortured with Dianna.”

This puts me in a bit of a bind, as I only have 1 Jessica 3000 with me. I call the shop and they only thing they can do is send Sarra, my current work slave, out in the other truck, bringing two more Jessica 3000. Sarra is wearing a snuff collar, that will remove her head explosively if she is either late getting to the hall, or if she strays from the designated path. Of course, I could also trigger it just to watch her head come off. That might be fun.

Sarra arrives, and is a bit slow in getting the 2 machines into the hall. At least the brake system trick isn’t turned on for her. I might start doing that for her. Give me a reason to flog her ass.
Time for some motivational talk “Move it slave or you ride one of those tonight.”. This doesn’t seem to have any effect. Odd.
“I said fucking move it. What is your problem!”

Sarra finish moving the two Jessica 3000 machines in place.

As soon as Sarra finishes setting up the first machine, I grab Brittany and cuff her to the upper wrist holders. She is stretched almost off the ground. I then secure Stephanie to the other one.
“Well, slave, what do we do first? We have 3 sluts in an over head Y. What shall we do?”

Sarra looks up at me “spit the first two”

“I should spit you! Didn’t you read “Torture expected!”"

“yes”

“Come up something to do this little redhead or I will do you!”

“hang them and spit at the same time?”

“I know why I selected you, because you can suck a damn good cock, but damn it, come up with something non lethal or YOU get to be the prime rib tonight and I take one of them back with me to be my helper…”

Brittany says “I’ll help you! Please, don’t hurt me!”
Sarra looks up and says “sixty lashes”

“On which one?”
“Brittany”
I pick up the whip. “Where? Tits, ass or cunt?”

“tit’s belly and cunt”

After ten or so lashes she is screaming in pain, tears running down her face.
I stop for a moment. Turn to Karla “Want me to do more?”
“yes whip her pussy.”

I stand in front of Brittany, while she weeps.

I toss a strong “up shot” up into her cunt. She screams….. “You want more?”

Karla answers “Ten strokes of the whip”

“Count them bitch” I snarl at Brittany

I through a strong shot right into her pussy *CRACK*
If you don’t count, it doesn’t count….
I toss another. *CRACK*

three so far

No, bitch, it’s zero. You are supposed to call them out as I do them. No wonder they are snuffing you, you are a dumb as a post.

*CRACK*

one

That’s better… I toss a shot hitting her right on the clit.

*CRACK*
two

*CRACK*
three

Brittany screams out in pain

*CRACK* A strong shot, going right up the slot, so to speak, ending with the tip hitting her clit again

four

*Crack> A sideways shot that raps around and almost enters her ass

*CRACK* One just like the last but from the other side…
six
She is crying out in pain

*CRACK* the shot hits the navel, then travels down, almost hitting the clit

seven
Brittany is turning red in the face from the screaming

*CRACK**CRACK* A pair of fast shots landing on each side of her bleeding pussy.

eight

I smile, noticing that she counted those two as one shot. Dumb cunt.

She is still yelling and screaming.

*CRACK* Right up the middle
nine
Brittany is trying to jump and screaming her lungs out.

*CRACK* Very hard hit directly on the clit
ten
She slumps over, almost passing out, sobbing.

“Want the same on the other girls?” I ask Karla.
Oh, yes.. She looks very turned on by this.

Stephanie seems to be a little more on the ball than Brittney, as she counts out as each blow lands. Given her size and shape it is a little harder to land some shots on her. I land the 10 lashes in fairly quick order.

I move to Dianna. “I know you have already had 60 or so lashes. Where do you want these?”
“on my feet”, she whipers.

“On your feet? OK. Sarra, hold up the cunts feet while I lash them.”

Sarra picks up her feet and holding them up in the air for me to lash. I get evil idea.

I step back and toss a shot. I have “missed judged” just a hair, and the tip of the whip misses Dianna’s feet, but instead hits Sarra in her tits.

Dianna calls out ONE

Sarra goes “hey that was a good hit”

“Oh it was?” I toss another, not even really trying to hit Dianna’s foot with the main part of the blow. It instead lands across Sarra’s back side

Dianna calls out TWO
“Shut up cunt.” I say to Dianna.

Sarra looks over at me “hey you playing with me? I like that whip”

You do? I turn and fire a shot not even close to Dianna. It lands on Sarra’s back, leaving a bloody mark.

“whew that i felt and it does sting” Sarra says.

“Was that three?” Dianna asks.

I land 2 more on Sarra, before Karla makes a noise. “I’m not paying you to whip that cunt. You need to get back on my sister, and stop hitting her feet. I want her to bleed.

OK, where now bitch?

Karla looks at me a bit harshly, but hey, if some one who wants her twin sister tortured as part of her wedding isn’t a bitch, who is? Plus, well, let’s just say I give her about a 10 percent chance of living out the year. She obvsioly belongs to the social circle that things women should be enslaved, and she is smoking hot. That’s a recipe for enslavement, torture and death.

“How about on her tits?” I say as I land a shot on her left tit.

“On the back of her leg’s”

“Ah, That’s no fun.” I hit her other tit.

“Well, OK, as long as they bleed, go ahead on her tit’s”

OK, Dianna, start counting them out… I toss a strong shot that hits right on the right nipple. A small track of blood starts to form.

“one”, followed by a whimper.

“Oh, very good. You didn’t count the other ones.” I hit the left nipple

two

My next shot lands across the top of her size C breasts, leaving a mark over both.

“three”

The next shot is more of an under hand shot not really hitting the breasts, but the rib cage just below.

four

I look at Karla “Want to count that one? I missed.”

“Yes, you left a bloody mark.”

“What ever.” The next shot is a downward slash, going right into her cleavage.

“five” she managed to get out over the screaming.

I fire a fast shot to the left nipple splitting it

“six”, but it was sort of hard to understand, given that she is yelling her head off.

I pull back and fire a shot at the right, splitting it like the left.

“seven!” she screams.

I turn to Karla, “That’s going to make the injecting the breast bit a little hard. Want me to keep going?”
“Yes” I swear she looked like she was about to cum.

“You are the boss”, at least for now, I think to myself…

I toss a hard shot across the top of both breasts

eight! Dianna is screaming and crying.

I pull back, and toss a shot as hard as I can at the left nipple. It being already split, it is torn off the twin sister’s body.

nine! much screaming and yelling

I take one more step back, flip the wrist a little, then throw the hardest shot of the night. it comes straight down on her abused right nipple,cutting it off, like the whip was a knife blade.
ten!

Dianna slumps over, crying.

Wilfred starts clapping “Bravo. Bravo. Come, Karla, we must get you ready. Please give them some other types of pain for an hour or so, then spit them all but Dianna. Do her as you were instructed.”

After Wilfred and Karla leave, I release Britteny from the Y rack she was attached to, then strap her into the Jessica 3000. She whimpers slightly as I insert the spit into her cunt. Tears start to flow as I move the anal stabilizer into place.

I attach a set of electrodes to her back, then push the test button to see if they work. She jerks and screams in pain.

I secure Stephanie the same way, also attaching the electrodes to her. She seems out of it, like she was in shock or sub space. She jerks when I test, but only lets out a small grunt.

Dianna goes on last. She is crying and totally out of it. I don’t even think she noticed when the spit went up her cunt, and I know she didn’t notice the anal prob. When I attached the electrodes to her and tested them, she screamed like a banshee. She must be the type that doesn’t do well with being shocked. To bad for her.

“Ok, we are going to play a game Sarra.” I hold up a box with a button on it. “every time I push this button, one of the three spit muffins will get a shock. You have to guess which on gets it. Dianna, Stephanie, or Brittany. If you guess wrong, I’ll give you a lash later. If you are right, I remove one. Understand?

“ok, sound like fun”

Ok, who is your first guess?

Dianna

Dianna jerks and screams.

Oh, that good for you. That means you are at negative one. Next?

Brittany

Dianna again jerks and screams. She really doesn’t like being shocked. Note to self, shock the bitch as part of the next phase…

“Oh, not so good. Back to zero. But only 8 max now. But they are going to be on your tits.”

Next?

“Dianna”
Brittany jerks and screams.

“Stephanie”

“That means you get one on the tits”. Brittany keeps screaming, even after the shock is over. “Would you shut her up?”

I push the button. Stephanie screams. “Good guess.”

Sarra installs a ball gag in Brittany’s mouth.

“Good call. Next?”
“Dianna”
Dianna also screams like a banshee
“Let me think about this. You have missed two, got 4 right. I think that put you at negative one. Next?”

“Stephanie”
Stephanie jerks and moans
“That’s negative two, with only 3 more to go. The most you can take is a single lash. Lucky slave. Next?”

“Brittany”

Brittany jerks and blood comes out of the ball gag.

“Well, Looks like you are home safe now. Want to do the last two for fun? Ours, not them of course.”
“Dianna”

“Ah, so you do want to go on…. And Dianna it is!” Her screams are ear piercingly loud.

“Who gets the last one?”
“Stephanie?”

I push the button. Dianna jerks and screams for a long time. “Oh,yeah the last one last a bit longer. Sucks to be her. Well, that was fun, want to do some thing else to them?”

Sarra looks at me. “I not sure there almost dead…”

“Ah, not really. Just a couple of high voltage, low amperage shocks and 10 lashes. That’s nothing. Thrust me. Of course, you are right, they are strapped to a a Jessica 3000, that does make them almost dead, but not like you meant”

“do you have a skin peeler?” Sarra asks

“Why, yes, I do. Who are you going to peel?” I ask as I hand here the tool, which looks a lot like an over sized potato peeler.

“I will do Brittany’s ass and breasts”

“Ok then, start on her.”

Sarra walks over to Brittany on the Jessica, she lean over with herass exposed for me and begin to peel the skin off of Brittany’s ass Brittany screams.

“That’s nice. I love hearing a woman scream into a ball gag. Do some more, please…”
“her screams are a little muffled…”

“Why yes, it would be. Please, do more to this fine young woman.”

Sarra keeps peeling Brittany’s skin off her left ass cheek as Brittany wiggles and cries out of her gag.

I start to stoke my self watching Sarra. “Go on….”

She finishes the left ass cheek then starts on her right ass cheek, as Brittany is spitting out blood. She must have bitten her tounge.

I get harder and stoke faster. “Oh, yes, please…” I knew I didn’t snuff you for a reason.

Sarra goes “wow this work’s good no more skin on her ass, now for her breasts”

“What are you doing with the skin?”
“I think I’ll stick it on my ass”

Oh,yeah… this one is a keeper.

Sarra pouts a bit “it wont stay but it feels all warm and clingy…now back to her breast”

Sarra starts skinning her Brittany’s breast as Brittany screams and jerks as much as she can.

I pick some of the skin up off the floor. I nibble on a little of it “Want some”
“yes please”

I push a good sized piece into Sarra’s mouth.

as I pull my finger out of her mouth she sucks on my finger.

“When we do her, do you want me in your mouth or in your ass? Because I am going to fuck you as she dies…”

“either as it is up to you.”

“I’m letting you make a choice. you don’t get to make many…”

“My mouth so i can suck and lick you clean after”

“That is what we will do then. Carry on. She’s got a bit to go first.”

The other slave, the ones chained to the wall, that will be snuffed later are looking on in horror, knowing that this diabolical pair will be turning them soon.

“ok” Sarra says, turning back to Brittany, chewing on her skin, as she peel the redheads left breast skin off

I moan as I watch her work.

As Brittany yells and screams out of the ball gag Sarra tugs the last part of her tit skin off.

She starts skinning Brittany’s right breast and Brittany’s body is twitching and shaking as Sarra pulls the last of her tit skin off.

“Ah, yes…..”

“all done”

“OK, do I push the red or the black button for her?” I ask as I push Sarra to her knees in front of me.

Sarra slaps the breast skin on her breast
“red”

“Are you sure? That cuts her throat first.”

She thinks for a second. “ok black” as she unzip your pants and pulls out my dick.

My finger moves from the red button to the black. A push it, the ram my cock down her throat.

hummmmmmmmmmmm
The machine begins to move the spit through the hapless co-ed, who’s only crime was to be the friend of a bride.
I thrust faster and faster and faster into the slave, who I can kill at any time, for my pleasure, mouth.

She is sucking hard and licking the side of my dick as it comes out of her throat.

She starts to gag a little as I stay longer and longer in the throat. I bend over and whisper “Is this the time I kill you?”

She grabs my ass and swallows my dick deeper.

The spit erupts from Britteny’s mouth. I start to cum. I hold Sarra’s head down as I pump cum deep into her throat.

As I pull out the gutting system on the Jessica kicks in, ripping the young redhead’s vital organs from her body. She gives a last twitch and dies.

How Sarra Ann became a work slave for Hill’s Fine Meat. Note:This takes place about 2 weeks before “The Wedding” story line.

I’m not sure if I hate this part of the job or love it. We some times get a bunch of slaves in at one time, and the boss has decide that we might as well try and get some use out of them first. It’s been a slow week, so I’m doing “do you live or die” interviews with meat slaves. I’ve done 6 so far, and not a one of them has been worth keeping. In fact the last 3 are now part of the test.

“NEXT“.

A 5ft 5 inch tall, 38c-24-35, 125 lbs, with long brown hair (past her ass) slave enters the room She has blue eyes, a very toned body, and no visible tan lines

I check her record: “OK Sarra, how old are you?“

She looks up at me “I’m 22″.

“OK, Sarra, I just want you to know that how you answer these questions will determine how long you live. Do you under stand?“

“yes master”

“I’m not your master, but good answer. So, are you a virgin?“

no

“Have you ever sucked cock? “
yes

“Do you swallow? I mean when you had a choice “
yes

” Do you like it of some one cums on your face. Be honest, you will b tested. “
yes

Can you deep throat?
yes

How big?
18 inch dildo or longer

Really? Care to bet your life on that?
yes

I hand her a 24″ dildo “Take this as far down as you can. If you don’t do it deep enough, you go on a Jessica 3000 right now for lying. I don’t have time for lying slaves.“
ok

I watch her. She slowly lowers it down her throat. She finally ends with her holding the tip with her finger tips. She pulls it out about 5 to 6 inches, then lowers it back down. She does this several times. I start to get hard. Well, harder, I’ve been grading sluts all morning. Need to do something. Need to test that cum on the face thing any way.

“I’m going to cum on your face Open the eye you want me to cum on.“

She opens both eyes. OK then.

I stand up and start masturbating over her face. I feel myself about to cum, so I grunt, shooting cum over her left eye, then across her nose, then into her right “Take it bitch!” OK, that last bit was a bit over the top.

I sit back down and take the dildo from her.

“Well, that was nice. But lots of slaves give deep throat and like have guys cum on their face. Or at lest have learned to fake it. Have you ever been fucked in the ass?”
oh ok, yes

“Do you like it?“
YES She all but yells that out.

“Can you take that dildo up your ass. Think about it. That might be trick question…“
yes all of it

Well, damn. If she can take that up her ass, she isn’t going to be tight enough. Good that she likes being ass fucked, not so good about tightness. Need to check that later.

“OK. Moving on then. You will be tested on that, and if found to be lying you will be killed, you understand, right.”
yes

“Have you ever killed any thing?“
yes

“What?”
a rabbit and a deer, some fish also

“Think you could kill a young woman?“
yes

“OK, follow me.” I lead her into the next room. There are 3 slaves in various machines. “These girls all failed their test, and are useless to us, other than as meat. Well, that and making snuff videos” I say pointing at the camera watching over the room. “You understand what is going on here, right?“
ok

“The first one is on a guillotine. All you have to do is pull this cord and she dies“. I hand Sarra the cord. With out even a moments hesitation, she pulls the cord.

The blade falls. Blood spays from the slaves neck. Sarra steps in front of the now head less body letting the blood spray on on her body and looks at the dead slave’s face as it rest in the bucket.

After the blood stops, I lead Sarra to the next one. The girl in this machine is a brown haired girl, who looks a lot like Sarra. She is in what appears to be a complex sort of electrical chair. There is a dial with a setting from 1 to 10. “Please chose a setting for this girl. A 10 is a sure kill, under that may or may not kill but will cause her great pain.“

Sarra stands looking at the dial.

“Make a selection or join her“
Sarra reaches out and set the dial to setting 10, then pushes the button. The slave in the chair jerks a few times, then lays very still. As expected she was dead. The 10 setting pushed enough amps to kill a normal sized slave in less than 10 seconds.

“So, you wanted a fast death.“
yes she is dead, and it is what i am asked to do

“I see. Let’s move on to the next girl“

This girl, a redhead with impressive tits, is strapped into a Jessica 3000.

I give Sarra a box with 3 buttons.

“Button 1 is green. It will release her. You will not take her place, so don’t let that effect your choice”
“Button 2 is red and will make the machine cut her throat, then spit her. Death will be fast and painless. That is how we do most spits, assuming the client doesn’t pay for a live spit and roast.”
“Button 3 is black and will spit her live. That’s the torture option”

“Please push a button“

With out much thought she pushes button # 3

That’s it. I’ve got to do this. I push her to her knees in front of me, while the machine starts to slowly move the spit through the redhead. She unzips me, and takes my cock into her mouth. I fuck her face for several minutes, then cum hard into her mouth. “OK, I’m going to mark you as a helper slave. How well you work determines how long you live“

Once I had Dianna inside, I rapidly attached her wrists to the overhead attachment points on the Jessica 3000. While not quite as good as a real St. Andrews cross, the they would do until I strapped her down.

I noticed 9 young women standing by the back wall, naked, but wearing slave collars. One of men by them came over to me. “Let me show you the other possibles we have here.” I followed him over. When I got there I realized that they fastened to the wall by their collars. “Girls, this Josh Stone.. He’s going to kill most of you later today. Josh, meet Laura Thorsten,Brittany McKee,Priscilla Vance,Florence Hesse,Antoinette Sanford,Lula Bibs,Naomi Cody and Stephanie Frost. They all are friends or co-workers of Karla. They have all been enslaved over the last month, in preparation for this event.” I looked at the guy “And you are?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Wilfred Hitchcock. I’m the best man”

“So, Wilfred, what is the plan? I know I’m supposed to spend some quality time with Dianna before she rides the spit, but what about these girls?”

“Well, until Karla makes her choice we will not know. The plan, as you put it, is for Karla to select 1 or 2 of these slaves to be her household slaves, and for the rest to be, well, snuffed.”

“Snuffed? Not spitted?”

“Well, of course 2 of them, plus Dianna, will get spitted. The rest, well, we just want to have a pile of dead bodies.

“Please take her with you, and have her prepped on your machine for immediate spitting after the happy couple enters the hall for the reception.”

With that he handed me the leash for Dianna.

“Well, we’ve got about 3 hours. How do you want to spend your last hours?”

She looked up at me “I’ve got a choice?”

“Not really. At least for you, they bought the whole package. Which means your going to be tortured, then raped. Tell you what. I’ll decide on how I torture you based on how good the blow job you give me is.”

What I didn’t tell her was that it was going to be an inverse relationship. The better the blow job, the worse the torture.

Did I mention I love my job?

I took her out to the truck, attached her leash to the slave post, then started the procedure to unload the Jessica 3000 from the back. This particular Jessica 3000 is one of the mobile units. After getting it down, I unhooked her from the post, grabbed a whip from the back of the truck and told her to start pushing the Jessica to the hall.

She looked at me. “It’s not bad enough that I’m going to be killed today, but I have to do the work as well?”

I looked at her. Then landed a hard lash across her left tit. She yelped, then started pushing the Jessica towards the building. I landed another across her back. “Faster slut! Faster!” She all but broke into a run. Of course, because we do this all the time at Hill’s Fine Meat, as she pushed the Jessica 3000, the wheels started to resist. We installed a system so that the brakes automatically started to apply and got stronger the farther you pushed the machine. As she slowed down, struggling to push the increasingly immobile killing machine, I caught up with her, landing 2 or 3 lashes across her back “Faster! Move it! Push you slut!”

By now the brakes were fully applied. She was leaning hard into it, trying to move it, while I lashed her back. Then, suddenly, the brakes released. The Jessica 3000 went flying forward and she fell on her face. “You better get your ass up slut!” She got up and started to push it towards the building again. Of course the brakes started applying again. More lashes to her ass. More screaming, more falling on her face. It took 3 cycles of the braking system for her to get it into the building. By that time she had received well over 60 lashes, and was pretty close to passing out.

And I hadn’t even started the torture part yet.

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.”