Athena arched her back, leaning over the grill. Her belly was aching lightly, a faintest burning sensation presenting itself to her mind. The blonde felt her breasts throb and tingle, the skin taut and crispy where they were pressing down on the bars of the grill.
Her generous tits were cooking, and she imagined that Hayate would be quite appreciative of the look of the sear marks running across the tops and undersides of her breasts: black bars of charring that spanned the breadth of her browning bosom. Her mammary glands were boiling inside veritable vats of fatty tissue, absorbing a rich flavor that would make them a true delicacy of the highest order.
Her curves were something obscene, almost as erotic as her moans of pain. By a fair margin, Athena was the “plumpest” of Hayate’s culinary concubines. She had large tits and a thick, bouncy ass; she was even more voluptuous than Maria! Yet this wasn’t necessarily to her advantage. Hayate usually preferred leaner meat with only a bit of fat: just enough to give it a good flavor and tenderness. Even with the breasts, he generally liked them either small or modest—no more than Ruka’s or Ayumu’s, ideally.
That was what he preferred for eating, anyway. Huge tits full of fat might look very sexy as appendages, and they could be fun to play with in bed, but as food they were a poor staple. Still, they could be a nice treat, now and then, as something rich and luxuriant to spoil oneself with. And when Hayate was in the mood to cook up a properly plump rack, Athena was at the top of a very short list.
Still, he didn’t crave this nearly often enough for A-tan’s liking. If he ate her tits for every meal every day, it still wouldn’t be enough to satisfy her masochistic cravings.
She was his naughty, needy, busty, blonde bimbo❤
Athena sighed wistfully, looking down at her breasts. They were acutely ruddy, a little golden-brown, dripping with a mixture of sweat and leaking grease. She felt the heat of the grill rising into her tits, spreading out to bother the rest of her torso. It was a bit painful to breathe with such a heat seeping into her, and that scorching air rose to her face as well, carrying with it the tempting fragrance of her nicely cooking knockers.
She brushed aside her hair, feeling the perspiration cascade down her face. A wave of delectable faintness passed over her, nearly causing her to swoon. She was feeling weak.
She panted and slowly shook her head.
Once, Athena had been Hayate’s master. He had served her and loved her and sworn her his undying loyalty. Once, her flesh had been the only womanflesh he ate, and her body had been the only body with which he lay, though they had both been young and clumsy. Now, he was HER master, almost her god, and she did him reverence with every word and gesture, giving her entire being up to him in a living-dying-and-living-again sacrifice. She was but one among many, and not even one of the foremost. But she did her best to show gratitude for everything she got.
She had taught him many things, and the appeal of womanflesh was not least among the valuable lessons he had learned for her. As far as Hayate seemed to remember, the first time he ever tasted human flesh was when she instructed him to pick up her naked body and seat her atop the grill, teaching him how best to cook her meat. But she remembered a remark Hayate had made when she first had him cook her, which suggested to her that his parents had initiated him into cannibalism with a slightly lean but still rather pretty social worker who never got a chance to file her report on the Ayasaki family.
Whether or not he had tasted human flesh before his first time with Athena wasn’t important, though. Maybe he had, maybe he hadn’t. What she had shown him mattered far more than anything he might have seen as his mother undressed the gasping, struggling young woman, tying her wrists and ankles before cheerfully starting to baste her. If grilling A-tan’s rump hadn’t been Hayate’s first time eating girlmeat, it was his first time experiencing it as something sexual. She had awakened him to the erotic aspects of cannibalism, and if he had later repressed it after their tragic and painful parting, he hadn’t been able to tamp it down forever. Finally, it had burst forth once again, even darker and more powerful than brefore.
If any single person was responsible for the sort of man Hayate had become, it was Athena. And while she saw that as a cause for much guilt, thinking how she had caused him years of unnecessary loneliness on top of the hardship of being his parents’ son, the other girls, if they knew how much about Hayate’s tastes and disposition could be credited, directly or indirectly, to Athena’s teachings and actions, would probably praise her like the goddess for whom she was named. Still, Athena felt sorry for the bad terms on which she and Hayate had parted, and even now she regretted some of the more foolish and harmful lessons she had taught him, not having appreciated the limits of her own wisdom and experience at the time.
For most of the other girls, the relationship they had with Hayate was simple. They liked him, in some way shape or form. Some of them had already been utterly in love with him, so badly smitten that if they had discovered him to somehow be responsible for half of all the genocides and atrocities in history, they might be a little upset with him, briefly, but their love of him would not be dented. The strongest examples of that were probably Nagi, Hinagiku, and Ayumu. Then there were others who may or may not have had a serious attraction to Hayate—at the very least, they might have considered him handsome or fleetingly entertained half-serious fantasies—but who, experiencing his very special kinds of attentions, became addicted to the experience.
Of course, it was a little different with every girl. For some, their love of Hayate had brought them to love what he did to them. For others, their love of what Hayate did to them had caused them to love him. Some of them enjoyed different aspects of this new, perverse life. Some reveled in the never-ending cycle of pain and pleasure, having become addicted to death and humiliation, longing to be degraded and mutilated and consumed in ever more twisted and extravagant ways. Some specifically adored the feeling of powerlessness, the liberating sensation of having all choice taken out of their hands, the only thing left for them being to lie back and enjoy whatever Hayate did. Some enjoyed getting to afflict the other girls, while some enjoyed being in a harem. For some, it was as simple as the sex being really damn good and everything else serving to accentuate that.
For Athena, it was more deeply rooted. It was less about what she liked and enjoyed (although she did adore being treated like this) than it was about repaying her perceived debt to Hayate. He had saved her from her own hubris, even after she had driven him away and broken his heart in her caprice. Athena was smart enough to realize that her chance had been lost. She knew they could never be with each other the same way again. She had hurt Hayate, and she owed him much in apology. She owed him everything that she had, everything that she was.
She would rather be his slave than have nothing more to do with him. If she couldn’t be his lover, then she could at least be his cow.
Even through the euphoria of heat, the ecstasy of her body’s agony, Athena thought such bittersweet things. There was a touch of sadness even in the bliss of this paradisaical existence, a melancholy undercurrent that leant her flesh a subtler and richer taste.
Hayate could appreciate that.
Happy meat was sweeter, but a dash of suffering gave longpigs a special zest.
Hayate relished her, and he cherished her in his dark and sadistic way. Whether his affinity for extravagant cruelty and brutal debauchery was innate to his character or something she had seeded within him, Athena would do everything in her power to satisfy those cravings of his. If he wanted her to seal away her power and memories and revert into her “Alice” form, to experience him with a virgin body and fresh trepidation, raw fear and a little body, or if he wanted her to stand back and watch while he ravished, reamed, and finally snuffed every other one of the girls in his harem—and perhaps an unlucky visitor or two—before having her revive them all so he could repeat the process, again leaving her out, she would, without question.
It was difficult, though. She and Isumi were the only ones in Hayate’s meat locker with the ability to resurrect the other girls, and between her and Isumi, it seemed that Hayate had slightly more preference for the flesh and dying moans of the latter. If he was snuffing Isumi, he had to keep Athena alive to revive the girl, so Athena often wound up being left out by default. At most, usually, he might have her partially cook herself, then regenerate.
Admittedly, this meant she often got a first-rate seat at the more fatal feasts, so she couldn’t say it was all bad. No, it was exquisitely painful. Grilling her tits was a glorious experience. Athena took every twinge and throb of sensation like a tongue of purgative flame lashing its way into her body, piercing like a dagger and writhing like a serpent as it tortured her soft, tender insides. She was moaning happily, bracing herself with every stab of pain. Her knees shook, barely able to support her weight. Her hands gripped the side of the grill, white knuckles steadying her as she wheezed and melted in the warmth.
Her body was aching all over. She had been thoroughly disinfected with salt and vinegar, unburdened of the guts that would serve her no purpose once she was discombobulated and digesting in her master’s stomach. Maria had skillfully prepared her, rubbing her down with organic preservatives from the inside out and the outside in. Her skin was red and raw, looking like she had been scrubbed down with sandpaper or steel wool. Rice soaked in vinegar filled her ass and her abdominal cavity, her pussy and her womb. If she shifted, she could feel this afflict her insides with horrible, wonderful stinging sensations that brought hot, blinding tears to her eyes. It was nearly impossible to endure and a delight to suffer. She had been rinsed clean and disinfected holistically, scientifically, even supernaturally.
Her lower body was wrapped in dark, glistening seaweed. Her legs, her nether regions, her abdomen and lower back—all were bound and covered in a perverse semblance of modesty. Athena wasn’t sure if the seaweed wrap, served any actual purpose. For all she knew, it might have simply been wound around her lower half for appearances. At any rate, it made her feel almost like a mermaid, even though her legs were wrapped separately, allowed to stand as two appendages. Absentmindedly, although not completely randomly, Athena wondered if Hayate would want to dress her in a piscine cosplay complete with seashell bikini and put her in a fish tank full of hungry sharks or flesh-eating piranhas.
Briefly, Athena envisioned herself with her legs bound together in a stiff fishtail swimsuit that rested just low enough to expose her ass and pussy, clumsily treading water at the surface of the tank, her tits bobbing, conveniently popping out of the seashell bikini as she began to theatrically thrash. She saw herself splashing and churning the water, face white with fear and tears streaming down her cheeks as she spluttered, trying to keep her head above water while she shouted pleas to her master. He watched, smiling and perhaps stroking one of one of his “pets”, say, Ayumu with a hamster-ears headband or a nekomimi Nagi dressed in a skimpy tiger print, while she tried in vain to escape her impending demise.
She imagined her terror and secret bliss as the aquatic predators in the tank became aware of her presence, as the maw of a great shark rose to swallow her, or as scores of ravenous piranhas swarmed to strip the flesh from her bones while she was still alive, or maybe as a giant squid or octopus wrapped its tentacles around her and dragged her into the water, raping her for Hayate’s enjoyment (maybe while he had one of his “pets” service him) before drawing her into its maw and ripping her body apart with its keen, keratinous beak. She saw blood rising in clouds to dye the water of the tank, and she imagined her last terrified moments, watching her love and master come inside some other girl, leering at her shame and disgrace as she was brutally devoured.
Athena shuddered from something quite unlike pain, and she felt the seaweed that was wrapped over her crotch suddenly get much wetter. She came, and she came down from the high of that morbid, masochistic fantasy. Her heart was racing, and her breathing was labored. She was mildly surprised, though not overly disappointed, to notice that she had been playing with her nipples, the nubs hard and hot and greasy, leaking a scalding lipid lactation that burned her foolish fingers.
A small, self-effacing smile turned Athena’s lips upward.
Oh, who did she think she was fooling with all that pretense of tragic resignation or devoted repentance? She tried to tell herself that she was doing all of this because of guilt over how she had treated Hayate when they were young, but really, she was no different from any of the other girls in his harem. She wasn’t special. Like all the rest of them, she was truly just a lowly, degraded, masochistic snuff slut who loved to be fucked and eaten. Maybe at first she had been doing this as some sort of repayment to Hayate, but that time had long since passed.
She trembled, feeling an orgasmic aftershock as she remembered the first time he snuffed her, feeling a sharp pain in the midst of their heady intercourse. Her racing heart was suddenly racked with pain and her life’s blood was gushing from her side when Hayate withdrew the dagger, pumping his cock frantically inside her as he came to the point of orgasm. A glow of pleasure was in Athena’s belly, recalling how Hayate had murdered her in the middle of sex, how he had killed her just to get himself off that little bit better. It made her tingle with a shameful delight.
Maybe once she was revived, Athena would go back to flattering herself with pretty, romantic lies about her and Hayate’s tragic love, about her deep sorrow and undying regret. But in her present state, she could not even think such things without wanting to laugh. She had nowhere near such selflessness or nobility. Just as Hayate had first snuffed her to make the climax a little more intense, she now let him snuff her to experience a slightly more complete kind of powerlessness and surrender: to make her own pleasure stronger.
She did this because it got her off. Any claim to the contrary was mere prevarication.
With a sigh, Athena stood up straight, belatedly lifting her tits from the grill. They were as done as they needed to be. The undersides were nice and crispy, and the tops were also adequately browned. It was tricky to grill both sides without either a special appliance or a good deal of flexibility, but she had access to both. Still, the topside of her rack was a shade lighter than the underside, and the sear marks were less pronounced. She didn’t think it was undercooked, but if it did look a little sloppy.
For a moment, Athena considered evening out her tits. She didn’t want to give Hayate anything less than a perfect experience. But the kitchen door opened, and a sweet voice called to her before she could do anything else.
“Master says it’s dinnertime,” said Ayumu, leaning in through the door. She was wearing clothes for once, although she would probably need to give them a thorough washing once they were off. Athena could see several telltale stains on the garments, and a little semen was still on Ayumu’s lips. “If you aren’t done cooking yet, he wants me to drag you down there so he can eat your ass raw.”
“That was the idea, yes,” said Athena dryly, looking down at her body and peering past her breasts to survey her belly and legs wrapped up with dark seaweed like a topless, aquatic mummy’s bandages. “Hayate-sama told me he was in the mood for sushi.”
“It works out perfectly, then,” Ayumu said pleasantly. She then looked around the kitchen. “Huh. I thought it was Maria’s turn to cook the meat. Where did she go…?”
“She prepared my lower body,” said Athena. “But left me in charge of grilling my breasts. I think she wanted to go and collect her reward for doing her chores… I wouldn’t be surprised if we walked into the dining room to find master carving her to pieces or fucking her strangled corpse.”
She turned to look at Ayumu, showing the girl her browned, greasy, fatty, dripping tits. A fragrant smell wafted over to the lass’s nostrils, and Nishizawa’s cheeks pinkened cutely with something that might have been either sapphic admiration or mild envy. Ayumu examined Athena’s breasts and quietly hummed.
“I wish I had boobs as nice as yours, A-tan,” Ayumu said. “Then I could cook them for master the way you do.”
“It’s mostly fat, you know,” Athena replied, walking toward Ayumu and brushing her hand. “He uses them more for seasoning, garnish, and milking than actually eating.”
“But they still smell delicious.” Ayumu’s mouth was watering. “Could I have a taste?”
“Do you want Hayate-sama to skin you alive?”
“If he does, I hope he makes a nice outfit from the leather,” said Ayumu cheerfully. “Something sexy for me and Hina…”
“Still, no!” she said, chortling. “These are for master alone.”
Ayumu pouted, but she accepted that as fair. After all, every one of them WAS Hayate’s exclusive property.
“Okay. I’ll just have to find someone else who will let me chew on their boobs. Maybe Sakuya? She can pretend she doesn’t like it, but…”
Ayumu trailed off, her mind lecherously wandering.
Athena shook her head.
“Go on, then,” she said. “But my place is on Hayate-sama’s plate.”
She and Nishizawa parted ways.
… … … … …
It wasn’t easy to get from the kitchen to the dining room. The seaweed wrap wasn’t too restrictive for Athena to walk, but it certainly limited her stride. Plus, she was faint from the removal of most of her guts, and the vinegar and salt that Maria had rubbed and soaked into her meat from the inside and out, disinfecting her flesh without the need to sear it, made her very sore and caused movement to feel difficult. Her tits also seemed to weigh her down, feeling especially burdensome in their current state. It was hard to breathe, and her shoulders were aching.
Somehow, though, Athena made it to the dining room table. She was slightly dizzy as she pushed the door open, and she was short of breath as she half walked, half stumbled to where her master was seated at the head of the table. Stars were in her glassy eyes. She was at her strength’s limit, and if she’d needed to walk much farther, she might have collapsed. But she was able to make it in the end, however close she came to passing out.
The blonde was shaky, trembling and swaying as she tottered over to Hayate. She saw him from behind, glimpsing the profile of his face, and her heart skipped a beat at the sight of his handsome features, glimpsing his aloof and faintly sadistic smile. She also saw his cock standing upright as she drew closer, Hayate naked in his chair and stroking his phallus, staring toward the fireplace. Curiously, Athena followed his gaze as she laid her hands on the edge of the table.
“I’m ready, master,” she said, causing Hayate to turn and look at her. “Your meal is here.”
He smiled at the sight of her grilled tits, and out of the corner of her eyes she saw him lick his lips. But she was looking into the fireplace, focusing on the fire and its fuel, and she couldn’t help smiling at what she saw.
A large log lay amid the flames, many smaller pieces of wood having already burned up around it. The fire was bright and hot, and it exuded a smell that pleased both observers. Across the burning log was draped a naked body, still slightly twitching and shivering. Occasional moans escaped a lovely mouth, the destructive heat not yet having turned her beauty to ash. She was still intact enough for Athena to recognize.
Maria was burning alive in the fireplace, her flesh slowly and pleasingly consumed. She was a suboptimal but arousing, entertaining fuel. She still made some weak noises of pain and pleasure, but her voice was hoarse. She had probably screamed herself raw.
Athena noticed that one of Maria’s hands was positioned tellingly between her legs.
A shiver raced down her spine, and she weakly slumped against the table. She heard Hayate grunt, and she smelled the suddenly more acute pungency of his manhood, his sex. From the corner of her eye, Athena saw her master’s semen spatter the tablecloth, and she gleefully noted his large, twitching cock as it disgorged its load.
“Do you like the view?”
He looked at the brown, crispy, glistening skin of her breasts, which she lay atop the table, too weak to lift herself onto the platter. Her grease was seeping into the tablecloth, very near to his ejaculation. Then he followed her eyes, looking to Maria who lay lewdly draped over the burning log, presenting herself to them as she burned alive. The maid was looking at them, and she wore a dreamy smile.
“I do, A-tan.”
He grabbed Athena and helped her onto the table, heaving her up to the awaiting platter. He did this easily, lifting her with no more difficulty than he might have had lifting Nagi or Isumi, laying his former mistress out on her belly, and looking at the happy expression on her face. She was pleased to feel his eyes, and her breasts draped over the platter. The blonde’s head drooped, and her chin rested atop her toasty, steaming melons. She felt the grease lightly scald her skin, still quite hot, and her face reddened more deeply.
It was hard to tell if she was blushing or not.
Hayate sat back down, pulling the platter to right in front of him. He had a carving knife ready, as well as a pair of chopsticks. He was ready to cut Athena up and start eating her raw, letting her feel every incision.
Hayate slid the knife into the side of Athena’s nearer tit, carving up along its length. The crisp skin parted easily, as did the fatty tissues within. Deftly and precisely, Hayate cut open Athena’s breast, carving her tit. He used the flat of the blade like a lever to spread the cut open, once he was done working inside her tit, and he took the chopsticks and slid them in.
Athena felt a faint pinching sensation inside her teat. She was just barely aware of the feeling, but it was present enough to make her squeal. If she’d had the strength to do so, she would have cried aloud as Hayate tugged on her mammary gland, wrenching it out of her breast with only a little effort.
She watched him extract the gland, nicely cooked, soaked through with her grease, tender and dripping. It was a special delicacy, and the only thing that could make it better was when he got to dip it in A-tan cheese or slather it with butter made from Athena’s own milk. The blonde watched her master lift the gland to his mouth. He slid it past his lips and sealed them shut with a soft moan, growling with relish as he began to chew. A little juice trickled down his chin, overflowing from his lips.
The taste was obviously exquisite, and Hayate swallowed the mammary gland with a sigh. He gave Athena’s nipples a considering look, tempted to continue with her tits. But then he looked at the rest of her body, seeing the curve of her creamy ass rise beneath the dark bands of seaweed that so snugly bound it, and he knew what he wanted to do next.
His knife flashed, quick and nimble. Athena felt it bite into her raw flesh like a fang of ice.
“AHHHH!” she exclaimed, unable to restrain herself. If having her breast cut open had been uncomfortable, then feeling her sore, uncooked meat so sharply and suddenly sliced filled her with a blinding pain so keen and piercing that she almost forgot to feel pleasure. Indeed, it took a few seconds before the waves of more positive sensation began rolling through her, before the glow of enjoyment started to rise in her body. “O-Ohhhh… Hayate-sama… you’re so bold❤”
Hayate smiled, lifting a fine slice of Athena’s raw gluteus, seaweed clinging to the skin while the soft wedge of flesh dripped with blood, rare beyond rarity, sweet beyond compare.
Athena watched breathlessly as Hayate turned the slice this way and that to inspect it. She looked at her own meat, seeing the mouthwatering redness and first-rate marbling, and she followed the chopsticks as they rose, lifting her flesh to Hayate’s mouth. Her blood dripped over his lips, and she watched his jaw work as he chewed the raw meat.
A shiver darted through her when she saw his Adam’s apple bob, his throat expanding infinitesimally to accommodate the passage of her flesh down his esophagus.
Hayate swallowed, then sighed appreciatively.
“Excellent,” he said. “You taste as delicious as ever, A-tan.”
The knife gleamed, and she felt it bite once more into her ass. A gasp of pain mixed with a little more pleasure than before, rising in an attempt to sneak its way out of her mouth. She gladly let this loose as Hayate sawed another cut of meat from her cute bottom, peeling back the seaweed wrap so he could watch the blood trickle over her bare skin. She moaned huskily at the feel of the blade and the air on her body.
Hayate plucked this slice of raw ham from Athena’s plump posterior, twirling it between his chopsticks to examine the cut from every angle. Then, he took this slice of buttock and thrust it into the incision he had made in the side of Athena’s teat.
She gasped, feeling the raw flesh sting like a thorn of ice inside her corpulent, grilled mammaries. Blood smeared the side of her browned, seared bosom, and the savory lipids that dripped from her fat soaked into the raw meat, warming and greasing it, letting the flavor of her tits sink into and season her ass. Hayate held the meat inside her breast for several seconds, watching her face for the interplay of pleasure and embarrassment, each sensation feeding the other, intensifying infinitely as the beautiful, bodacious blonde was racked atop the platter.
Her face was obscene, and she trembled when Hayate finally withdrew the cut of rump. She saw it slightly steaming, warmed by her breasts though still raw, dripping with an interesting, viscerally appetizing mix of lingering blood and fatty, greasy juices.
Hayate plopped this on his tongue slowly, delicately, holding his member out of his mouth for Athena to see, letting it rest out in the air for a moment, before he sucked it and the meat into his mouth. Then, taking care to be as loud as possible while still chewing with his mouth closed, he masticated the flesh, ripping and tearing, grinding and mashing, rolling it around on his tongue and letting the taste seep into his palate. He smiled at Athena while he did this, leaning close so that their eyes were on a level with each other, his blue orbs coolly twinkling as a sinfully delicious blend of liquids dribbled from his mouth.
He leaned so close to Athena that his chin was nearly resting in her cleavage, so close that their lips were almost touching—so close that, for an instant, her heart stopped beating, and a torturous anticipation seized what remained of her insides. A weak, pitiful moan rose wavering from her lips.
“Master…” she breathed. “Hayate-sama❤”
Her tongue flitted out almost before she knew what she was doing. She licked his chin, lapping her blood and juices from his skin, dutifully cleaning the mess that spilled and smeared around his mouth.
A starry field passed before her eyes, light dancing in the midst of a blind darkness, and a spasm of bliss convulsed her voluptuous body. A little more pungent arousal leaked through the seaweed bindings, and her hips bucked in delight, Athena profoundly pleased by the taste.
Hayate rewarded her with a kiss. Athena’s lips parted readily, eagerly, spreading like the petals of a flower ready for pollination, her mouth opening like it was her pussy prepared for his cock.
He chortled, seeing the lust in her eyes, and drew back.
“Good girl, A-tan. You know exactly what you’re supposed to do. You’re one of the best at serving me.”
She shivered at this compliment. Her body was racked by orgasm, and she felt like she would rip her bindings with the jerk of her limbs or the force of her squirt, half expecting her nectar to scythe through the dark, wet vegetable matter like a water jet cutting steel. Her face was tomato red.
“I live to please you,” she moaned, “and I’ll die for the same whenever you want.”
Hayate chuckled and patted her head, nodding in satisfaction.
The knife was once more in hand. He flipped it in the air, tossing it boredly up and down as he sat back in his seat, casting his eyes consideringly over his meat slave’s body.
The steel flashed, diving suddenly down Athena’s back like a shark’s dorsal fin splitting the sea’s surface. He cut through the seaweed wrap, slicing the bindings that had been done around her lower body to seal in her freshness after the preparation of her meat. The seaweed slipped. It slid over Athena’s skin, peeling back. Wetly, from top to bottom, it splayed, baring her rosy maiden flesh, the tempting whiteness of her smooth, soft skin colored here and there with the flush of arousal. Her skin was shining, moist from the seaweed, glistening in the light from the fireplace, the light of the maid Maria burning alive.
Athena was breathless in anticipation, waiting and wondering what Hayate would do next. She stared hopefully, nervously into his eyes. She felt the cool edge of the knife play its way lightly back up her body, tracing the plush contours of her curvaceous figure.
She whimpered, gazing desperately, pleadingly up at her master. Her pussy was soaking wet from this teasing, sore and stinging from being stuffed full of vinegar-soaked rice.
Hayate slipped his knife down Athena’s side, adjusting the angle ever-so-slightly to sink the steel into his bitch’s soft, yielding flesh. He carved a slice of meat from her ribs, digging just deeply enough to expose a sliver of the bones. The blonde hissed sharply, feeling him cut so close to her breasts, feeling the sting of the knife and the burn of the air against the naked meat and nerves beneath her skin. It was a delightful pain, and she basked in it.
Hayate set this meat on his plate. He’d cut off a rather large portion, so he took the knife and sliced this fillet into thinner strips. He then took one strip and presented it to Athena, and she opened her mouth obediently, not hesitating to accept the proffered meat. It didn’t matter to her that this food came from her own body. No, that wasn’t true. It did matter. It made it all the better.
Athena smiled, smacking her lips and moaning as she chewed the raw flesh, tasting her flavor, feeling it all soak into her mouth. It wasn’t cold like proper sushi, nor was it hot like properly cooked meat. It was raw, but it was warm with the heat of her living body, dripping with the fresh vestiges of a vitality from which the flesh had been severed only seconds before.
It was perverse and impossible, yet it felt weirdly, wonderfully natural.
She smiled and lewdly swallowed, watching Hayate eat up the other strips with his usual lofty relish, the man showing that he enjoyed the meal while also holding himself delightfully superior to his prey. His eyes burned deep down with a fiery lust and a ravening passion, yet he presented himself like a cold-blooded predator.
He was intense, yet remote.
Hayate slid his knife over the front of one of Athena’s breasts. The edge scraped up trace amounts of clear, hot grease, angled just so that it would not sink into her skin, sliding over the generous curve of her bust. It slid down, descending suddenly sharply, passing just under her areola, neatly carving her nipple from the front of the tit. And Hayate’s chopsticks came up to snatch the nipple before it could fall, plucking it from Athena’s breast and plopping it into his mouth.
Grinning, he ate it, and Athena watched him with a fierce blush. The blonde sighed dreamily, adoring how her master looked at her. His eyes stirred an undying flame within her flesh. She listened to the sound of his salacious chewing.
“Your nipples are so tasty, A-tan,” Hayate remarked. “They always have this sweet, slightly buttery taste. They’re soft and juicy, and they melt in my mouth like chocolate. You’re a wonderful cow.”
“Milk me, master,” she breathed. “I live to serve you.”
“And you’re a splendidly convenient dairy factory,” Hayate said. “Not even Maria can produce so much milk, or such high quality. If I had a couple more girls like you at my disposal, I could take this pointlessly massive Sanzen’in estate and turn it into a human dairy farm. Then, maybe I could make my own fortune.”
He said this idly. He wasn’t serious about the idea, but only made the comments to further excite her—to entertain himself by seeing how blissfully flustered he could get her. And while he did this, he prodded Athena with the tip of the knife, wordlessly prompting her to adjust her position.
Athena sat up, rearing back. Her tits bobbed and lagged, stiffly drooping as they were raised from the platter, grilled and partially mutilated, steaming and dripping with savory juices. She spread her legs, placing her weight onto her ass. She hissed, her face prettily contorting in a shameful look of pain, the neat open slices that had been carved out of her buttocks pressing down, rubbing her tender, naked meat against itself and sending twinges of pain through her body. It wasn’t severe, but it was enough to make her pussy warm and dribble in masochistic pleasure.
Then Athena lowered herself, thrusting her pelvis toward Hayate and draping her legs over the sides of the table as she dragged her tender, bleeding ass cheeks over the platter’s cool, silver surface. Her pussy was put right before Hayate, her plump thighs quivering as her body came to a rest. Her great, golden-brown tits depressed slightly, their own weight forcing them to squash back and slightly down atop her chest. The stitches that held her abdomen shut glinted slightly in the firelight, while her nectar glistened on her rosy labia, the folds of her cunt looking delicious.
She felt hot under Hayate’s patient gaze, and she quivered with anticipation as he dragged the knife’s tip down alongside her pussy, tracing the mound of her pubic region. He etched a faint, white line into her skin, scratching the surface with the knife’s keen edge, digging no deeper than absolutely necessary.
Athena gasped, unable to think or form words. Her eyes were wide, staring dazedly up at the ceiling, and she longingly chewed her lip.
“H…Hayate-sama…❤” she breathed. “I want to do anything I can for you. My body is yours. My heart is yours. If I thought you had some use for it, I would even give you my soul.”
“Well…” said Hayate mildly. “Maybe Isumi could bind it to a fleshlight and turn you into a meat lich so I don’t have to worry about always keeping one of you alive to revive the others. With that, if I wanted, I could just snuff you all in a big batch, and then fuck your soul until your body reforms and you can bring the others back to life. Isumi said she could do it for either you or herself, but I don’t know… Apparently, being turned into an immortal, undying flesh slave would stop the aging process... then again, it could be nice to have an eternal loli meat slave or two.”
The knife slid into Athena’s crotch as Hayate spoke. Blinding pain and perverse pleasure preoccupied her mind while he slowly, sadistically carved out her pussy.
Athena moaned raggedly. Her grilled, seared, sliced, greasy tits heaved atop her sternum as her ribcage expanded and contracted to accommodate heavy, laborious breathing. Crimson eyes were wide, and a kissable mouth was gaping far open, a sheen of vapid drool coating Athena’s chin while her quivering body tensed and jerked. The blonde had to exert the full force of a formidable will to keep herself from bucking her hips too wildly in her bliss and messing up Hayate’s cut.
She felt the knife sliding in and out, circling her pussy. It was fucking her flesh, slicing her live, raw, throbbing pussy from the rest of her curvy, juicy, nubile body. She was shaking like a hypothermia victim, her eyes glazed over from pain yet showing a spirit of conscious clarity behind them as Hayate carved and carved and carved.
She almost didn’t notice when he was done slicing. She had to peer down between her corpulent, crispy-skinned tits, gazing through the hot, steamy vale of her cleavage to observe as Hayate pinched the ends of his chopsticks around her swollen clitoris and yanked up, lifting her filleted cunt by the clit. She felt a phantom jolt of sensation, and her body convulsed as if she was coming, but nothing came out save for lightly pink rice soaked with a mixture of blood and vinegar, spilling out from the void between her legs.
Her body ached from pleasure. Her breathing rasped with contented desire.
“That sounds wonderful, master,” she sighed. “If I knew a way to… l-let you stick your cock in my soul naked, or a way for you to cook and eat the imperishable essence of my being… I would do it for you in a heartbeat. Even if it meant my total and final annihilation, I would gladly give it ALL to you❤”
“That does sound like a very enticing idea. Too bad, it’s probably impossible.”
Hayate seemed genuinely disappointed for a moment, as he said this. He took a bite out of Athena’s raw pussy, digging in and ripping away a portion of the flesh, causing the blonde’s heart to skip a beat.
She watched the blood smear his lips, making them so entrancingly red, that she physically ached to lean forward and kiss him. She peered between her tits, over the edge of the table, seeing Hayate rise into a standing position, his erection getting on level with the gaping, rice-stuffed hole where her pussy had been moments before.
Athena shivered. She longed for Hayate to fuck and mutilate and humiliate her in every possible way. She was addicted to his cruelty, and she craved his savage appetite. She wanted him to devour her forever, to destroy and remake her an infinite number of times. He owned her mind, body, and soul. She adored everything he did to her, no matter how dark, how obscene, how agonizing and degrading.
No! The more extreme, the more violent, the more dehumanizing it was, the more she got off on it, the more she thanked him for doing it. She loved being dominated. She loved it when he hurt her.
If she was Athena, then he was Hades, endlessly cycling her between Tartarus and Elysium. And for her, those two were one and the same.
In the fireplace, Maria continued to burn, roasting in an open fire.
It was a wonderfully romantic dinner.
… … … … …
A/N: You know, I initially disliked Athena when I first read the Mykonos arc in the manga, but I have much more appreciation for her now, and even a slight fondness. It doesn’t hurt that she is quite sexy, haha… though it’s also partly a product of maturing as a reader and a writer, even if I still very much enjoy things along the lines of ridiculously indulgent power fantasies and perverse fantasy wish-fulfillment. Like this commission, for example.
Also, it’s fun to revisit the Butler’s Banquet/Servant’s Snacktime continuity, because it’s so wonderfully, ridiculously far down the dolcett rabbit hole that a character getting burned like a yule log can just be used as a set piece without need for explanation or comment, haha…
TTFN and R&R!
– — ❤