Joslin ala Rotisserie
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Joslin swallowed hard as she watched yet another girl be pulled from her holding pen into the kitchen. It was a surprisingly busy weekend, and three of the restaurant's milkers had been pulled in to fill in for the lack of proper sows. Truthfully that meant a long term loss for the restaurant. Good milkers were hard to come by. The alternative however, was to close down the restaurant and cancel dozens of reservations, and management just didn't want to deal with that sort of PR headache.
 
 
“Gettin’ nervous Jos?” The voice of James, her caretaker, took her by surprise as he approached to fill her water trough, before reaching forward to stroke her hair.
 
 
“M-maybe just a little…” she muttered.
 
 
“Well… I wouldn't think too much about it ol’ girl.” he replied. “Yer easily the best dairy cow we got.” With that, he reached down to five one of her massive breasts a hearty squeeze. If they're gonna pull ya, it'll be dead last.
 
 
That specific choice of words didn't exactly fill Joslin with the most confidence, though she did enjoy the way he touched her. James's hands weren't exactly smooth, but they were warm, and he had a magic sense for just the right amount of pressure that she liked. Joslin's love language had always been touch… affirmation of being close to someone… and the way he touched her always sparked a little ember of lust in her. Like a well trained animal pining for cuddles, she couldn't help but drop onto her back, offering both udders for easy access.
 
 
“There's my sweet little cow.” he cooed, taking the opportunity to grope her a little longer. “If I didn't know any better I'd think ya needed another milkin’. But anyway, don't y'all worry. If anyone puts ya on a pole they'll have ta go through me first.”
 
 
James gave her a full minute of his attention before he was called back inside to work as the drinkmaster. The man knew his way around a white russian or milk punch. Those words he left her with did manage to calm her somewhat. Truthfully he had absolutely no say over what farm girls were pulled up, but he was right about one thing, with the size of her melons, Joslin was without a doubt the most valuable cow at the place. Producing gallons in a week whereas the others typically only managed one.
 
 
If the truth was to be told, Joslin didn't mind the idea of being reduced to meat that much. The thought did send butterflies to her stomach, but she'd known it was an eventuality sooner or later. All the same, there was a difference between the fantasy she'd masterbated to countless times when before signing up, and actually dying on a spit for some pervert's amusement now in real life. She'd hoped to eek out several years as a dairy cow before finally reaching that point, and she'd only managed one so far. In the end however, she had no power over the when and where it all happened. Legally she wasn't even human anymore.
 
 
Still, as cows were led out of the indoor barn and into the restaurant one by one. Joslin’s nerves began to jitter more and more. It wasn’t lost on her that many of the first girls who’d been gathered… girls who just hours ago had been alive nextdoor to her, were probably steaming on some horny guy’s platter now, or worse, even carved all the way up. Ladies she’d talked to just this morning, were now utterly gone. What was more, James seemed to have… disappeared for the day, and just like that his assurance felt far, far away.
 
 
The smell that wafted into the barn from the kitchen was particularly mouthwatering today. Despite what that scent meant to her, and her fellow meat and dairy girls, she found herself craving succulent girlflesh all the same. There were days she dreamed about being in there, for one reason or another, watching a silly old cow’s last moments, to be given a treat. Just a single pussy lip, or even a love button. Very rarely, she even dared to envision herself in a chef’s outfit. Though she wasn’t a dom by any stretch of the imagination, seeing all of these other lovely young women, all around her age, had kept her quite… stirred for most of her time here. In fact, Joslin couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt… dry. Her entire life had been nothing but constant stimulation since she’d finally taken the leap.
 
 
Joslin very quickly let her thoughts completely overtake her, reveling in the fact that the line between imagination and reality was blurred here. Things she once thought were utterly taboo and forbidden were commonplace now, and that fueled her libido like nuclear rods at a plant. In fact, Joslin had become so given to her thoughts and play, that she failed to recognize that… within merely an hour, the last of her peers had been swooped up and taken inside. Only when the barn became dead-silent, save for her own grunts and moans, did she finally sit up and take notice.
 
 
As if on queue, she then noticed a man emerge once more from the kitchen doors, to waltz cleanly in her direction. It wasn't James. While her caretaker was still in his prime, this one was much younger. Legal to work in the place, though that seemed to be the bare minimum for him. Joslin felt her heart begin to beat more and more rapidly, until it was at the perfect pace with his quick steps.
 
 
“Well, sweety.” The cook began, leaning forward such that his dyed bond hair shimmered under her stall light. “Looks like you're next. We're cleaning house today, it seems.”
 
 
Joslin swallowed yet again. “O-oh… B-but James told me…”
 
 
“I know what he probably told you, hun.” The young man strapped a leash to her collar and opened the gate. “But the fact is he doesn't call the shots around here.” He gave a gentle, yet firm tug, forcing the cow to her feet and beginning to lead her towards the black kitchen doors. “Fact is, you were actually reserved two weeks ago. You're the only scheduled meatgirl we had. Everyone else were all walk-ins.”
 
 
Joslin's chest grew tingly. She didn't know whether to feel honored or betrayed, and in the end, she elected on splitting the difference between the two. Her fate had been sealed half a month ago? Whoever'd payed for her must've been willing to pay a premium, seeing as how she'd been an active milker, and Joslin almost felt a bit bad for them. If they'd waited till today to order, she would have only been the normal price, seeing as how it was the restaurant's fault they overbooked.
 
 
Surely James didn't know any of this. He'd always adored playing with her, after all. If Joslin had thought about it in time, she would have scrawled a little message out for him but. C'iest la vie.
 
 
Well. For him at least. Not so much for her, for much longer. The large, pointed metal pole that waited for her at one of the prepping tables reminded her of that.
 
 
“Alright ol’ girl.” The term used by the cook bristled Joslin slightly.
 
 
She wasn't that old. Although… technically she was the oldest surviving meatgirl in the place (as well as the last) But she was still in her absolute prime. He could have used just about any other way to reference her, but he landed on the “farmer Jenkins” method.
 
 
“Roll on up. I'll get you cleaned and ready.”
 
 
Joslin heaved a sigh, banishing that indignant thought for now. She then hefted herself up onto the table before rolling over onto her back, letting her meaty breasts flop slowly to either side. She surprised even herself with the readiness with which she responded to the cook's orders. Either the place had done an excellent job at conditioning her, or she was far more into the idea than she thought.
 
 
—
 
 
Having only ever seen and heard the cooks work from afar, Joslin was taken by surprise at just how quickly and efficiently they seemed to work. Out of some semblance of respect, the water she was sprayed with was thankfully lukewarm rather than frigid. However, the sensation of essentially being waterboarded still shocked the girl's system. She found herself gasping every time the small torrent passed over her head, and instinctively shaking as it washed over her back. Within the span of only a minute or two however, Joslin was absolutely glistening under the yellow light of the kitchen. As pristine as she'd ever been.
 
 
“Let's just get this pretty hair off yours all sealed out aaaaaaaand…”
 
 
Joslin felt the young man rub something that had a more dusty texture than that of a liquid into her hair.
 
 
“That oughta be good.” The cook thought aloud as he stroked her hair. “Keep this nice bob from burning up in the fire.”
 
 
Joslin felt her heart jump as he stepped back. Was it… already happening? She swallowed hard, doing her best to push the mild anxiety that followed back down. She watched as he then turned about, to examine the walls of skewers carefully. There was a surprising science to it all, it seemed, as he pondered width and other… features, such as a textured base. In the end however, Knowing Joslin as many in the restaurant did, he elected on a simple, smooth pole of middling thickness.
 
 
“On your front. Butt up dear.” he then commanded, hefting the pole high, with its ominous point directed straight at her.
 
 
Joslin slowly heeded his command, ensuring her lovely bosom was squished against the metal surface. Timidly, she lifted her ass high, looking back at him while he then stepped forward. Despite herself, she couldn't help but shiver in anticipation. Well trained as she was, she was still a living thing with instincts.
 
 
“Head forward sweety.” directed the cook. “You want a clean pierce so everyone can see your pretty face bounce in the oven, don't you? Last thing we want is it coming out your shoulder or something…”
 
 
Joslin nodded slowly, and tilted her head in the indicated direction just in time to feel something cold and pointed tease her backside. Her eyes widened, and a slight “Eep!” escaped her lips as he pushed just hard enough to open her up. It was an alien feeling to be sure being reduced to a piece of meat on a kebab, but she enjoyed every second of it. The intense emotion and the overwhelming stimulation were a combo to be enjoyed.
 
 
“There we go. Good girl. You're doing great.”
 
 
The cook’s constant platitudes were stale and shadow, but nonetheless appreciated. Particularly with how quickly he worked. Within moments she'd felt a slight pinch as the pole entered her belly, and by the time she'd accepted that it even went that far, she could feel it welling up in her throat.
 
 
“Guh… guh… Grlk!” Joslin subconsciously attempted to swallow the thing back down, while her body jostled back and forth to feel out just how restricted her movement had already become. Once again she felt her heart pounding, as she looked nervously left, then right, then forward. It was coming whether she was ready or not, and she finally gazed down her nose at the end. Just in time to catch the point peek out from between her lips.
 
 
Well… I guess that's that then… The girl's inside voice was calm, surprising even her. So long to Joslin the dairy cow. Everyone, meet Joslin the meatgirl…
 
 
Externally, all the girl could do was moan loudly, to which the cook gave her a hearty slap to the rear. “Such a good cow. So well behaved all the way to the end. Now, let's get you all bound up so you don't hurt yourself in the oven.”
 
 
Before Joslin could say or… grunt anything in response, the cook had already slid and locked the stabilizer rods in place. One perpendicular to the pole, to which he fastened her ankles and the other parallel, right into her excited gooch, to ensure she turned with the main pole to roast evenly. It was… sinfully delightful, no matter how it meant that she was going to die for someone else's amusement now…
 
 
“Hey boys!” The cook called out to his fellow kitchen-hands while standing in front of his work. “Can I get some help with Jos here? Last roast of the day. She’s a big girl you know. Curvy in all the right places and all that.” With that, he landed another hefty slap on Joslin’s rear, pulling a squeak from her.
 
 
“Sure. Not gonna lie. I’ve been dying to see this one in the oven.” came a new voice. A woman, by the sound of it. “But man. You know management’s gonna feel the loss of their best cow.”
 
 
Unable to see what was behind her, Joslin could only give a grunt as she was lifted up on both of the cooks’ shoulders. Her world bounced nauseatingly up and down for a few moments as she couldn’t help but wobble with each step they took, past the other prep stations, through the swinging black doors and finally… into the dining area proper, where the display ovens were for all the patrons to see.
 
 
Immediately the murmur of the night’s crowd died down for a moment, as everyone shifted their gaze to eye the new meatgirl that had been brought out. Joslin couldn’t be sure but she thought she heard several of the customers actually begin to complain that their roast wasn’t as beautifully full figured as she was. The thought that she was apparently Grade A in everyone’s mind filled her with a small swell of pride. One tempered with a hint of unease as she knew this was very soon to be “it” so to speak. She’d be in the heat soon, alongside her peers.
 
 
In her peripheral vision, Joslin was able to make out the forms of three other former cows all turning under the red light of the singular, multipart oven. Many of them seemed to be wriggling quite actively still, despite already turning a bright red color by now. Whether they were struggling in instinct or… trying to eek out one last orgasm on the stabilizer rods, she couldn’t be sure, but Joslin was determined to give everyone present the best show she could as well.
 
 
With a slight creaking noise, one of the oven doors was opened up just beside her. Already Joslin could feel the sheer heat coming from inside, and briefly she couldn’t help but tense up in expectation. Moments later however, as the cooks slid her into the only remaining open slot, she found it was surprisingly easy to adapt to the high temperatures, initially at any rate. Maybe she was sturdier than she thought, or maybe all the chemicals that had been pumped in her food had changed her somehow. Regardless, Joslin was well aware that she was already well on her way to being a tasty treat for some lucky customer. All that was left on her part was to let the oven do its work.
 
 
Every turn of the pole sent the silly cow’s udders flopping down heavily as she roasted, and now and again, when the skinnier cow beneath her’s rotation lined up opposite to hers, she could even feel her own breasts brush up against theirs. It was a bizarre, but not at all unwelcome sensation. Strangely… intimate. A little love shared between two co-workers at the end, as she saw it. Despite her best efforts to look down at the other roaster, the pole kept her gaze frustratingly straight, allowing only the slightest angle for her when she looked askance. As such, she couldn’t be quite sure who she was touching, but she made a game of trying to figure out just who it was by their bust size and nipple shape.
 
 
For a time, she also tried to keep track of rotations she made on the spit, but that very quickly proved to be too much of a pain. Instead, she quickly found herself fixating on the way the stabilizer rod pressed up against the side of her womanhood. All the pressure was strictly pushed into her right side, thanks to the pole’s direction of rotation, but she did manage, with a bit of effort, to shift her weight in the opposite direction now and again, satisfying any need to balance out the… sensations. In time, with a bit of focus, this was enough to throw her libido into a bit of a tizzy, and soon enough,l she’d managed to rile herself up enough to coax out a subtle, but unmistakable climax. This seemed to impress a nearby customer, who was on his way back from the bathroom, and Joslin was not the least bit unhappy to entertain his eyes a bit more. She could stand proud… metaphorically speaking, knowing that she was already quite the hit with the clientele. If only James could see her now.
 
 
In time, after plenty of time left to her own… activities, Joslin did find that the heat was starting to get to her, if only slightly for the moment. She was at the point where she could feel her flesh truly cooking. Even sizzling in some spots. What was more, the stiff position the spit held her in was starting to get a little… uncomfortable. As popular as her little wiggles were with everyone present, being restricted to those motions alone was a bit frustrating. Particularly as she was trying to power her way into her fifth orgasm. It was all a bit restrictive, in more ways than one.
 
 
Soon enough, she found herself feeling more than a little dehydrated as well, and the knowledge that… if things had turned out differently she could have been back in the safety of her holding pen instead was starting to itch at the back of her mind. As much as she loved the attention she was getting from all the men and women still waiting at their tables, it was all starting to get to her, and she found herself squirming more and more with every passing minute, which only made her even more of the center of the show, given than most of the other cows had gone still by now.
 
 
After what she was certain had been at least half an hour under the oppressive red heat of the oven, Joslin let out a relieved gasp to feel the oven door open. The rush of fresh air was blessedly cool, at least comparatively, and Joslin allowed herself as deep a breath as the pole that pierced her would allow.
 
 
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see as the girl below her was carefully removed from the heat. The staff were quick to gently nudge the now still girl off of her spear onto a long silver platter. The sight of how steam gently wafted from her body reminded Joslin of what awaited her at the end of her own ride, and with quick, gloved work, the cooks then proceeded to pose the tasty young thing into a suckling pig pose Her arms were delicately placed under her chin to prop her head up and a crisp red apple was slid between her lips. With that, the other, former cow was carted away to be nothing more than someone’s dinner.
 
 
Despite the heat, Joslin found herself shivering in anticipation. Once again she was reminded of the heaviness of her current position. There would be no escaping, or last minute changes of mind. She was going to end the day as a pile of bones. Period.
 
 
While she let this thought swirl around in her mind, she was also treated to the sensation of one of the cooks brushing a fresh layer of seasoned oil over her grateful body. It was night and day, to compare the way she felt minutes ago to the relief she was experiencing now. Of course she knew it wouldn’t last forever, or even very long, for that matter, but it was enough for her now. While the brush explored her generous curves and sumptuous flesh, her motions grew softer and more rounded. Rather than the jerking spasms she’d been giving in the last few minutes, she was once again moaning softly, and gently sliding her form over the pole to match the movements of the cook. A few wolf whistles told her the dance was appreciated, which resulted in a blush that was impossible for anyone to see, not that it mattered. She wasn’t exactly in a private position.
 
 
Far too soon however, the brush and its cooling liquid were pulled away, leaving Joslin to once again get intimate with the oven’s heat instead. By now, her breasts were starting to get sore from every time they dropped down at the bottom of her rotation. This was in addition to the fact that they were swelling from the heat, making them somehow even larger than they were before, in a way.
 
 
—
 
 
It wasn’t long until every other cow had been served up on each of the tables out there. Joslin could easily hear the gasps of delight from customers when they made that first slice. Undoubtedly there was something orgasmic about for the customers. Seeing and feeling the exact moment this girl became meat for them instead. For many of them, it might even have been their “virgin experience” with femme as well. Their first bite of savory girlmeat. Joslin couldn’t help but wonder if she’d be fortunate enough to pop that double metaphorical cherry for someone as well. For now though, she could only wait until her turn arrived.
 
 
One after another, the other tables were abandoned, often leaving the skeleton of their meal behind for the wait staff to clean up. If the rumors in the barn had been true, they’d be ground up into bonemeal, which would then be sent off to the grain farm that fed all the heifers to keep them productive. Not a single bit of the girl would go to waste. After all, the restaurant prided itself on being more sustainable than a simple, traditional dairy farm. In time even the last cow, who’d been roasting just above her was carted out, and eaten, leaving her the sole heifer in the oven.
 
Joslin couldn’t help but smile, however weakly as the guests one by one stepped up to admire her before leaving. It once again made her feel like her body absolutely stole the show, and as a result, she indulged herself in thinking about just how lucky whoever would eat her tonight really was. She was prime, grade A meat after all.
 
 
Still, after she’d had time to resettle in the heat, that uncomfortable dryness once again took over her. She found herself squirming rather pathetically to find a position that was at least somewhat comfortable, even if she knew deep down that it was all pointless. Only when her nerve endings began to burn out did she finally find some relief this time. Considerably before her final basting was due. The numbness that followed gave her a very different sensation in the end. Something like… that moment right before one falls asleep. That sort of weightlessness, where the mind wanders aimlessly, carried by clouds of misty consciousness. It was… a strangely indulgent feeling really, and some part of her wanted it to last forever.
 
 
In such a somnolent state, she only barely noticed when her own pole was finally slipped out of her own oven’s slot. Only catching on when the heating element was finally turned off. Slowly, the cooks slid her steaming body off of the spit she’d spent so long riding, and onto the clean, silvery metal of a platter. As her muscles had been completely roasted through by now, she was absolutely unable to move as they then carefully posed her with her hands under her chin, and her legs bent back while her breasts were slid outward to show their sheer volume. It wouldn’t be long now…
 
 
Joslin determined the cart must have had something caught in one of its wheels. Every few inches it rolled caused a bump that reverberated up its frame and all the way through her body. Naturally this caused her pleasantly plump form to jiggle enchantingly for the entire trek to her table. Then again, maybe it was completely intentional, knowing the restaurant’s theme. Slowly, she was carted over to one of the darker, corner tables and slid under its romantic, soft lighting.
 
 
If she weren’t so utterly spent, she might have been able to get a closer look at the lone diner who was already grinding his fork and knife together. Instead she could only weakly stare into the wall, while the customer’s eyes were easily able to drink her form in entirely. It almost seemed a bit unfair really. He definitely had her at a disadvantage, as they say.
 
As they were trained to do, the waiter next offered a jug of butter broth. A savory mix of girlbutter and girlbone broth that was something of a specialty here. Among the large list of such things that could be sourced at a cannibal restaurant that kept their own dairy stock on hand. On the diner’s silent nodding, Joslin next felt the warm mixture drizzle down her ass, and make its way slowly to her back. At the very least whoever this was knew the best way to appreciate her meat, she thought. With the help of a rubber basting brush, the savory sauce was next coated all over her soft, steaming body. Shortly after, a cold, iced pail of wine was left at the table beside her, and with that, the cooks were gone.
 
 
“Mhhh… I’m glad I was able to get the reservation in time…” The masculine voice that tickled Joslin’s eardrums sounded vaguely familiar, though in her haze she had some difficulty placing it. “If I’d been any slower, you might have been served up to someone else today, Jos.”
 
 
Was that… James? If Joslin’s eyes could have widened, they would have. It had to be him. Nobody else called her that. Suddenly, she felt the sharp side of his fork softly slide over her breasts, finding all her sweet spots, and in that instant, she felt a sensual warmth fill her body. Though her body was largely numb, she still felt the slight pressure. Not too much, or too little. Just enough. He always knew she liked to be touched like this If anyone was going to devour her soft flesh, she was glad it could be him.
 
 
“Such a good girl, all the way through to the end, aren’t you? Hehehe… Worth every penny. Gonna miss tasting your product though.” He let the flat side of the utensil then softly press down on her other side. “From a dairy girl to beef all in an evening. Been a busy day for you, hasn’t it?” The fork then slid over her skin, finding its way to her ass, where he finally pierced her delicate, savory softness… and began to carve…