Tales of a Family Raised Meatgirl
"Time to wake up dear~" Linda's tone was pleasant and melodious. Under any other circumstances, one might have assumed that her intent was that of a loving mother, trying to get her progeny to develop good sleeping habits and wake up to greet the day. The truth however, was that the forty-two year old blonde was eager to prepare her own daughter as the centerpiece of a feast that had been three months in the making.
Initially, Emily pulled the covers over her head, and tightened them such that her curvaceous, soft form was perfectly outlined just underneath. Briefly she allowed herself to entertain the idea that she could insulate herself from the reality of her upcoming fate, using the blanket as a shield, but in the end she knew what was coming was going to happen, whether she resisted or not. Giving a heavy, surrenderous sigh, she finally popped her raven, beheaded visage up to pout at the woman who, a year ago, had worked so hard to build her esteem. Now however, Linda only seemed interested in reinforcing what a plump piglet she'd become, the girl's self-confidence be damned.
"I'm up mom. I'm up…" the girl assured, only a mild hint of regret in her voice. She knew of course that it was all nothing but brainwashing, but it had worked. Over the preceding twelve months both of her parents had aggressively drilled into her that she was no longer a person. She was an animal to be raised and eaten when the day came… and the day had indeed come. "But I'm not happy about it."
"You don't have to be happy about it honey ham. You just have to be tasty. That's your only job." With that, Linda fiddled with her keys until she found the one that unlocked the steel cage around Emily's bed.
Her husband was very efficient on that first day. Removing Emily's furniture and replacing it with affects more befitting a head of cattle, and surrounding it all with a series of sturdy, but light metal bars that would keep any thoughts of escape relegated to the realm of fantasy. Where the girl's vanity once stood was now a simple aluminum feeding trough. It was poetic that in the place where she once preened so much, there was now a symbol of how they'd been fattening her up. The princess style bed she'd once enjoyed was now nothing more than a simple futon. Finally, in place of her wardrobe dresser, was a box of toys. Sex toys in particular that Emily had been instructed to make use of at least every other hour that she wasn't outside. It was all part of the conditioning, and tenderizing process. That much was obvious, but being trapped in one's room for sometimes days on end tends to make a girl crave any simulation she can manage.
Obedient as she'd become, Emily approached the cage door and raised her chin, making it as simple for her mother as possible, to latch the leather leash onto her collar of the same material. "So… did you and dad decide how you're going to… umm…"
"Cook you? You bet your sweet milky udders we have, baby girl." Linda smiled. Not warmly, but excitedly. "We're going to have all your sweet little friends over, and slow bake you in the brick oven your father built last year."
Emily felt a twinge of nervousness travel up her back and linger at her shoulders. “S-sounds fun. You just mean… like… Veronica and Jenny right?”
“Of course not only those two! I checked all the contacts in your phone and invited all the ones at the top.”
“Wh-what?! Even Belle?!” Emily’s body was heavy with dread as Linda walked her out of the cage, towards the family bathroom.
“Even Belle~ You two used to be such good friends when you were younger.
“Used to being the operative phrase mom! She became a self-superior bitch the moment her dad’s meat packing factory took off! I don’t want her watching me roast! I know exactly what she’ll be thinking…”
Linda gave the girl’s plumpened, pert rear a hearty slap, and waggled her finger disapprovingly. “Oh hush. You need to stop being such a Negative Nancy about your friends. So judgemental.” she insisted, before pushing Emily into the walk-in shower. “Now… Let’s get you nice and clean so you look and taste your best tonight hmm?”
“Yeeeees mooooom…” Emily’s voice was less that of a girl fearful for her life, and more a typical teenager, annoyed with her mother’s single-minded stubbornness. The woman could have beaten a statue in a staring contest, she swore…
As the cold water gradually warmed up, trickling over her curvy body, she began to recall just how she’d gotten into all this mess. A year ago today she’d still had plans of exactly what college she was going to go to. What career was perfect for her. She’d been talking with Veronica about it all, just as her teacher handed off… what was to be her final report card.
—
“So anyway, I’m positive I can actually go somewhere with my writing. You know?” Emily had worn her favorite, floral embroidered shirt and tight fitting designer jeans that day. It was all more than a little… form-fitting on her but… that was just how she liked it. Driving all the boys, and half the girls, wild with the busty shape held tight underneath it was a little hobby of hers, her friends liked to say.
“I mean… yeah, but… you HAVE been working on bringing your other subjects up… right? Last time your mom and dad weren’t too happy about how you nearly flunked out of math.” Veronica rubbed her shoulder nervously. She knew her friend had always been dangerously one-track minded, ever since they were little kids.
“Relax. I studied for like… two days before the test. I’ve got this in the bag.” The black haired girl simply laid back in her seat as the teacher passed the little yellow pieces of paper out.
“Just a reminder… These cards are backed up in the school servers. A little paint and a new pen won’t help… some of you here…” explained the tall, glasses-clad Mrs. Newright. She shook her head as she approached Emily, noting her… completely unjustified confidence.
Emily's face sank immediately when she took inventory of the poor scores on the paper. She spent the entire rest of the day scheming on just how she might more softly break the news to her parents.
"Maybe if I start by doing some chores instead?" she pitched to Veronica some hours later on the way home.
"They'll probably just see that as you trying to manipulate them." Veronica shook her head. "I think it's best if you just rip off the bandage right away."
The back-and-forth continued until the two came up on Emily's quaint little double-floored home, and with a nervous, shaky wave, the two parted ways. For her part, Emily rehearsed her excuses and delivery for a good five minutes before finally opening the door. It was all for naught however as, to her horror, both her mother and father were there waiting for her already, arms crossed and lips contorted into stern frowns.
"Don't bother trying to explain yourself." began her father, James, the moment she attempted to open her mouth. "We've already looked everything up on the school's website. You had two years to work on this young lady. Don't pretend we didn't give you plenty of time to get your act together."
"But dad! I…"
"No buts, except yours out in the open." Interrupted Linda. "Your father and I have been talking about this for a long time now, and we already decided, if you couldn't manage bringing up all of these Ds to at least three Bs, we were going to dehume you."
Emily's eyes went wide. Words failed her as she tried to come up with something. Anything that could spare at least her dignity. She knew though, that both of her parents were the type to firmly hold on to an idea once their minds were set on it.
Not giving her any more time to think, James quickly pulled her inside, flipping her about such that Linda had plenty of time to grip and unzip the girl's pants. Emily's yelps of protest did nothing to slow the process as next, her mother thumbed them at either end and mercilessly pulled them down, with the poor girl's panties. Finally, as Linda held on to her hips tightly, James grabbed the bottom of her shirt tightly, and pulled upwards.
"If you resist, it's just gonna get torn." he warned her, nodding for her to lift her arms.
Begrudgingly she did exactly that. For the moment she told herself that there was still time to smooth everything over. She didn't want there to be a fashion casualty after all. Her clothes were practically some of her best friends.
Just like that, nearly as quickly as she'd opened the door, Emily was left stark naked in both her parents hands. While she'd expected a bit of… discipline, at her lack of studiousness, the girl was shocked at just how easy it was to make the transition from seeing her as their own flesh and blood, to seeing her as… at best a sexual object. At worst… nothing but a piece of meat. In fact it was only when both began to slide their hands up and down her form that she truly internalized just how… final… this all was.
"Always knew she had good bone structure." began her father. "These wide hips will make an excellent foundation for a good amount of meat with a solid diet." He looked around the panicking teenager to smirk at his wife. "Wonder where she got those from."
"If you want her to be prepped correctly, and maybe another kid to replace her, I suggest you stop it there." Linda replied with a mischievous smile of her own. All the while her hands instead explored her daughter's bosom. "Have a bit more work to do here. They're good but… we can do better. Think we can spring for the hucow hormones? Get some utility out of her before we put her over the fire?"
"I-I'm right here you know!" Emily reminded the two. "Y-you don't have to be so… businessy about all this in front of me…"
"Oh hush." her mother chided.
"As of right now you're a recreational investment. Not a person." added her father.
Emily showed a slight pout at that, before squeaking as her mother gave her rear a firm swat.
"Now, get your meaty butt upstairs to the bathroom so we can clean you and get you all ready for your first exercise and tenderizing routine. "
"I-I'm practically a grown woman mom!" the girl complained. "I can c-clean myself…"
"Don't insult our intelligence honey…" came her father's voice, from behind as she started up the stairs as directed. "If we leave you to your own devices you'll be on the run in a minute." He then directed his speech to Linda again. "You get her all squared away. I'll start putting the cage together."
"Yes dear." answered the woman. "We need to start thinking about changing her diet starting tomorrow as well…"
With her mother right on her ass, literally, Emily soon found herself in the bright, white tiles of the family restroom, with its tasteful navy stripe running around the center of each wall.
"Get in." Linda commanded, as she turned the valve, letting the sound of running water fill the room.
"But… you just turned it on! It's gonna be freezing for a minute!"
Linda groaned annoyedly, and gripped her daughter's wrist harshly before pulling her over and above the porcelain lip of the tub. Through the fabric curtain and under the, as predicted, frigid flow.
"Eek!" Emily instantly reached around herself to give an autohug. It didn't quite help as much as she'd hoped.
"Oh quit complaining and get used to it. It'll warm up eventually…" said Linda, rather sternly. Of course, she herself waited until the water was of a more palatable temperature before finally joining in herself, leaving her own clothes folded neatly beside the sink.
It wasn't lost on Emily, just how bizarre and taboo this would have been if the situation had the difference of just one piece of paper. Her own mother, hefting Emily's breasts up high with one hand whilst scrubbing intensely underneath with the other. At any other time it would have felt kinkily erotic to the girl. Hell, it felt kinkily erotic to her even then, but at that moment she had much more pressing things to think about.
No matter what angles she pursued… No matter what excuses or begging she attempted, her mother remained firmly entrenched. Emily was not a human any longer. She was a pig. Maybe even a cow. Emily's only given mercy at the time was that the twins were out with friends, spending the night at a sleepover. The next day, they'd almost be sure to have a field day with her, but for then it was at least comparatively quiet, save for the sounds of running water as her mother thoroughly cleaned her…
—
And here she was again, one year later. With her mother, even more confidently now, stroking her fingers over every nook and cranny of her body. The soap was unscented this time. A sweet aroma would interfere with the more umami recipe they were planning to use, apparently. Emily was surprised at just how quiet and accepting she'd become, after recalling that day. All it took was a quick command from Linda, and she would bend over, lift her arms, or spread herself however the woman desired, making the whole ordeal a good amount easier on both of them.
One thing that was a bit different, this time around, was that her two rambunctious siblings, two years younger than her at seventeen, were more than present now. The twins, Amy and Dominique, had taken great joy in watching their big sis be humiliated and used frequently over the last twelve months, and Emily could practically feel their presence on the other side of that door. Very nearly able to sense their smirking faces.
Following half an hour of thorough hygiene rituals, cleaning both inside and out, Linda was finally finished, having moved on to drying off and rerobing. Emily of course, was not allowed such an opportunity, not that she truly expected it at this point…
"Girls!" her mother called out, the sudden volume of her tone startling even the now veteran meatgirl. "Get in here and get this pig dry and tenderized!"
Just as Emily expected, it wasn't even a full second later before the door was opened. Amy, the family bubble girl, was dressed in her typical, retina-burningly bright pink sweats, while the gothic Dominique was clad in her usual fishnets and soul-drainingly dark miniskirt and long sleeved belly shirt. At first glance, anyone would be forgiven for not realizing they were twins, particularly with their vastly different makeup styles. The fact that Amy's blonde ponytail bounced behind her, while Dom's shoulder-length, black dyed bob was often stubbornly stiff, only made it more difficult.
"I'm going to get the side dishes and stuffing ready, and also preheat the oven." continued Linda. "And no cumming on her this time." she further commanded. "I just got her nice and shiny for the oven."
"Sure mom." The twins responded in unison. There wasn't much they agreed on really, but cannibalism was one such rarity. There was something about hammering in just how helpless these meatgirls were that made their minds meld together. Add to it that this was their once snooty older sister, and they were practically the same person. Enamored with the idea of putting, and keeping Emily in her place.
Linda hadn't even fully left the room before the girls pounced on their former sister. Dominique was the first to pin the poor pig to the floor, straddling her hips. Meanwhile Amy held down a leg with one hand while reaching for a towel with the other.
"Hehe… How does it feel, pig?" Dominique began.
"It's gonna be your last day~" Amy reminded.
"Your whole life has been leading up to this point…"
Emily didn't respond. Partially because she'd been trained to be tame in the face of such treatment, and partially because she knew not to feed the trolls. Instead, she meekly turned her head, occasionally letting out a squeak whenever Amy's towel found a sweet spot. Of course the little imp had managed to find every special button Emily had. Linda gave both of them plenty of time with the family pig. Said it was good "sister bonding time" or something like that. Not that Emily herself was a sister anymore. No… She was talking purely about the twins.
Toeing the line between obedience and rebellion as she always did, Dominique proceeded to grind her lady bits atop the plumpened meatgirl, grinning ear to ear as she did so yet stopping just short of bringing herself to orgasm… thus far. Simultaneously, her hands found their way from holding Emily's arms, to squeezing her breasts together tightly. "Think we can get a bit more milk out of her?" she asked her sister.
"Only a little bit if so." responded Amy, as her fabric ministrations lingered on Emily's womanhood. The dryness made the treatment ever so slightly painful in the poor thing's gooch. "Mom and dad stopped giving her the hormones a couple months ago. Said they still wanted a pig rather than a heifer."
This didn't deter Dom in the slightest. "Mhhh… It's so hot to think you'll be gone tonight sis." She used the word 'sis' ironically, referencing the piece of meat in front of her. Her fingers never let up, teasing Emily's nipples and putting pressure on those melons. It wasn't all dissimilar from the first week she'd been forced to lactate. Her humiliated mind couldn't help traveling back to that time some months ago, not that it spared her any embarrassment.
—
"S-so hold on a second…" Emily began that day in a whining tone, and it only grew more intense when she noted the large syringe her father held over her bosom. "Wh-what if I turn out like… really, super milky huh? I-I bet I could be super useful. Then you wouldn't have to eat me!" She'd given the same spiel just about every time either of her parents talked about the treatment, and every time her father reacted the same dismissive way.
"Emily, you seem convinced that the only point of converting you is money." Without giving her an opportunity to brace herself, he then jabbed the needle right above her nipple, seemingly enjoying the yelp she gave. "While saving a little bit on humilk is definitely a plus, your mother and I find you particularly appetizing, and frankly think that using you as the centerpiece for a dinner might look good for us. Now give me your other breast."
Emily jutted her lips out in a pathetic, childish pout as she obeyed. "B-but don't you love me?"
"I suppose…" he began, poking a new needle near the other areola. "But probably not near as much as we'll love your taste." He stepped back to consider his work, and proceeded to heft both tits in his hands. Now, the vet said you should see growth today, and be lactating by tomorrow night. The moment you start leaking I want you to come to either me or your mother. Is that understood?"
"Y-yes daddy…" The girl held back tears as best as she could. In reality some part of her found the conformation that they no longer saw her as their baby girl, strangely liberating. She didn't have to wonder any longer, but… it still stung.
"Now…" James began, giving a pregnant pause before slapping her heartily on the rear. It was becoming a frequent communication between owner and animal… "I want to see your pudgy ass finish all of your dinner before your mother takes you exercising today. Back to your cage, cow."
Moments later, after her father had slammed the barred door behind her, Emily stood for some time in front of the feeding trough that had been one of her only, silent companions in the pen all this time. Immediately behind it, on the other side of the cage wall, was a tall standing mirror. Linda had placed it shortly after Emily's conversion, saying she wanted the girl to be able to see for herself just how much her meat was filling out. The diet of fat and sugar enriched oats had already landed another twenty pounds on the poor thing, but the meticulously regimented routine her mother had implemented, ensured that fifty percent of that addition had actually been meat. Muscle. The other half added was allowed to be delicious marbling, centered at her lower half, thanks to the emphasis on core exercises, which caused her to still maintain an attractive hourglass shape. It was all about presentation, presentation, presentation, after all…
Looking over her body, Emily couldn't deny it. She was turning into quite the curvy meatgirl. She ran her hands over her motherly, berthing hips, and the added meat had largely gone straight to her ass, which complimented them perfectly. Her arms then traveled upwards again to rest under her chest next. Still a bit sore from the injections. They'd picked up a little bit of diameter, but if her father was right, they'd practically swell like balloons overnight now. She wasn't sure whether she should feel proud of how well she'd filled out, or ashamed at how much weight she'd put on. It was a strange split of sensations really…
After giving herself several minutes to consider herself, Emily sat down, starting to scoop the feed into her mouth. If she'd only put just half an hour more every night into her studies. Then, right about that time of day, she'd be heading to a movie or shopping with her friends rather than sitting here, fattening herself up. Or at least that was what she convinced herself of. In truth, with how callously and readily her parents had done all this to her… some part of Emily wondered if they'd been planning this all along, ever since she'd started highschool even.
It took the girl a good hour and a half to finish everything fed to her. As Linda had trained her, she made sure to pick every husk and scrap that was left and polish the trough to a reflective shine. Her mother would give her an hour and a half to digest it all, before starting the next portion of the day.
When Linda did arrive, unlocking the cage and leashing Emily yet again, Emily didn't even have to ask. It was a walk day, judging from the sweats and headband that the woman was wearing. At first, Emily hated to be publicly embarrassed this way, but in the weeks leading up to then, she'd actually come to look forward to being allowed to see the outside world. It was still humiliating of course, but it was variety, in her now stagnant life, at the very least.
"Don't get hung up on the term "cow" girl." said Linda, rather harshly. "Your father told me that you tried to talk your way out of the spring barbecue again. Make no mistake, your primary purpose is still to be meat. Come June, you're still just a pig. Got it?"
Emily stopped herself from responding angrily or even fearfully. It would get her nowhere now. "Yes m-mommy…" was all she said.
"Good. Now give me thirty jumping jacks, fifty sit ups, and twenty-five twists. Then we can go for a nice, slow walk."
Utterly in the buff, as Emily had been for months now, the moment she started leaping in the air and spreading her arms out, her boobs began to flop up and down as she went. When all this had started, she might have been shocked to see her mother biting her lip sensually, but it had all become part of a standard day now. In fact, Linda and the twins seemed to be far more open about enjoying what was happening to the girl than James, the only man of the house, did. Her father managed to keep at least some surface air of business about the whole thing.
While the girl did her sit ups next, Linda simply sat in front of her, enjoying the show. Emily had a tendency to spread her legs widely every time she came up, and while Emily could theoretically command her daughter to present herself at any time, there was something special about the way she did it this way, without having to be told to do anything but exercise. Perhaps it was the combination of that and seeing the animal struggle in the later reps that just rang perfectly for her. It would only get more difficult as well, once those mammaries had grown a bit more…
Once Linda was satisfied with the cow's efforts, all it took was a swift tug of the leash to get her moving towards the front door again. Despite how relatively commonplace these outings had become Emily still had a habit of hanging close to her mother through it all. This was perfectly fine by Linda, as the last thing she wanted was for the girl to get snatched up by cattle rustlers, particularly now that she'd be giving dairy soon.
The walk only took the two of them under two, well shaded blocks, as it ever did. While keeping the girl in some modicum of shape was certainly important, too much activity would counter the fatty diet, and possibly even cause the meat to be stringy. A careful balance between fattening and working out was the ideal.
Veronica had always been certain to meet her old friend every time they rounded the corner. At first, she gave her all to talk with Emily and treat her like a normal human being, but in time she came to engage more with Linda instead, only giving the meatgirl a little nod of acknowledgement. This instance was no different. As a matter of fact, Emily almost swore she could see Veronica giving her a few sideways glance that was… lusty, hungry, or both.
Some part of Emily accepted this. If there was anyone she wanted to… enjoy her, in this state, it was her closest friend. Still, it stung a little bit that that one, special individual no longer seemed to care as much as she used to.
"I think I'll be doing some chores in exchange for a lot of your milk." the teenager finally said directly to Emily, after conversing for what seemed like ages with her owner. "I mean… this opportunity won't last forever right?"
"R-right…" was Emily's only reply, as she looked away sheepishly. Over the span of the conversation, at least a dozen men had driven by, wolf-whistling and licking their lips, or even just laughing. Though the girl had come to expect this, she was nonetheless eager to get back home.
"Well, I'll let you two get back to your trek. Thanks again Mrs. Carmichael."
"Any time dear. Now… Let's get you home and cleaned up, cow."
Emily could hear the delight the woman took in calling her cattle names. She practically sang it out. To her, her daughter was little more than a toy, and she liked to show off her toys. The route took the duo by more than a few homes of Linda's friends. Now and again the women would snap pictures, or even give their own offspring a certain… contemplative glance, and Emily couldn't help but wonder how many of them would survive the year.
As always, when they arrived home, the family heifer was equal parts happy that the ordeal was over and sad that she'd be confined to her pen again. After a bit more… quality time with mother in the shower, that was exactly where she found herself. By now her breasts were unmistakably given to growing pains, and she elected to cover up and wait the spurt out.
The next morning, the soreness had finally dulled to a minor ache, but as she groggily sat up, she could already feel the added weight each of her girls were carrying. A quick glance down showed, to her combined horror and amusement, that each of them were easily twice their original side, and when she went to hold them, feeling their new mass, there was already the tiniest dribble of pure, white dairy…
"Uhh… M-mom!" she called out, remembering her father's admonishment from the day before. "I-I think I might be…"
It didn't take long for the matriarch to appear in the doorway. "Lactating?" she finished Emily's sentence. "Already? That's marvelous!" With that she quickly made for the prison door, fumbling with the keys a bit to get it open. It was time to play with her newly upgraded toy. "On your hands and knees, right now young lady!" she insisted, grabbing a metal pail that had been left there the night before.
It didn't take Emily long to obey. She had already learned to expect all of this. Still, when she plopped down on all fours, the sheer inertia of her new puppies nearly caused her to fall to her stomach. "Mom? Can I uh… just have a moment to…"
"Absolutely not!" Before Emily even knew what was happening, Linda had placed the bucket underneath one of the drooping milkers, and though she was clearly inexperienced at everything, she was undoubtedly passionate. Her fingers gripped first at the girl's engorged nipples, squeezing and pinching painfully hard. When this only resulted in the tiniest smattering of produce, she then shifted to the base of the udder, closer to Emily's ribs. This proved a touch more fruitful, if only just so, and out would be another hour of groping, squeezing and tit abusing before the mother was convinced she'd managed to eek out all she could from this initial session.
After drinking the entire thing in one swig, she simply smiled, bearing a slight milk mustache. "Good, but you've got a lot of growing to do, cow…"
—
And grow she had. In the time since that day, back to the current day, she'd managed liters at a time, some mornings. While Dominique's endeavors produced only a small fraction of what they might have during the height of Emily's production, it was still enough to dribble over the side of the udders that produced them. This gave Dom enough to run her tongue over, ending with a long, teasing slurp of the meat's nipple.
"Be sure to rinse her off when you're done!" insisted the much more obedient Amy, while she pressed her palms over her older sibling's thick thighs, and what she could reach of her bubble butt. "Mom said she wanted her clean, and I'm not taking the fall for you if she finds your cum on her belly or your drool on her tits."
"Pfft. Boring, by the books brat!" Dominique blew a raspberry in Amy's direction, and kept going. "I'm just tenderizing her udders, like I was told to do."
The pink girl didn't seem phased by this. In fact, breaking her own rules now and again, she couldn't help but "accidentally" shift her massage to Emily's cooch. She enjoyed just how much forced pleasure she could pull from the girl, even when she knew she'd by dying later that afternoon. In fact, she'd managed to bring Emily to one brainless orgasm after another on several occasions during the fattening period. This was only encouraged by a very enticed Linda, who vocally expressed how much she enjoyed seeing the pig be mindwiped during all of it. Perhaps too skilled at what she did for her own good, it only took five minutes of this treatment to reduce Emily to a mewling mess once again.
"Ohhhh… dumb pig…" Amy said with a groan. "Now I gotta clean you up again. Can you at least hold off on being such a brainless meat slut long enough for me to get your taco clean again?"
Emily only moaned in response.
Amy then stood up to run a washcloth under the sink, unconcerned with the fact that she'd left the temperature rather cold. Actually, she seemed to enjoy seeing the pig squeak and pull her legs in the moment it made contact.
All the while, Dominique continued her own ministrations, sliding her hands tightly from breast, to arm, to wrist, and back again, over and over. She rather enjoyed the little twitches Emily would give every time she returned to tweak a nipple or squeeze a melon. While Amy leaned towards forcing pleasure on the poor girl, Dom had always enjoyed tempering it all with a bit of pain. Once she'd had her own fun, she batted both, now empty, udders with a series of unrestrained slaps to either end. She almost treated them like a Newton's cradle, watching them bounce back and forth with childish amusement. If the pig had been on all fours, the effect might have been more pronounced, but c'est la'vie. She couldn't always have exactly what she wanted.
After standing up to grab the washcloth Amy had used, Dom too ran the icy waters over the mess she'd made. It was then that the two then grabbed Emily by one arm, and very… firmly suggested that she flip over. Being the compliant animal she was, Emily simply allowed them to reorient her without a fuss.
Moments later, both human girls were happily squeezing and molesting the pig's perfectly round ass. It was, after all, the biggest font of meat, where the most steaks would come from. It wouldn't do to leave them tense and stringy. Their tenderization process would continue for another fifteen minutes, before they were confident enough to stand the staggering girl up and lead her, finally, back to the kitchen.
Only now did Emily's consciousness return to her enough to recognize everything Linda had prepared for her. To one side of the marble island, there was a massive bowl of thick, red sauce, peppered with various herbs and spices of some kind. Opposite of it was another ceramic container, filled with bread stuffing. Finally, at each corner, there were rather tight looking metal shackles, from which a long chain came to end at a ring embedded in the floor. Linda wouldn't be giving her any opportunities to resist tonight.
The pig felt her heart begin to race. Once more her memory took her somewhere else, two or three months ago, where she'd been made to watch several girls about her age go over the fire. She remembered seeing their shocked, teary-eyed faces, and smelling the delectable aroma wafting from each of them…
—
"Don't they look absolutely delicious honey?" Linda's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Just think, it won't be long now until that's you. Aren't you excited?"
Emily herself was transfixed at that time, on the sight of numerous girls, moaning and whimpering in helpless agony, turning automatically in the red light of an industrial oven. The efficient device was built in a way almost reminiscent of a revolver's cylinder, with six parallel skewers each turning on their own, while the whole assembly also rotated. Each piece of human meat was given an equal amount of time near the red hot electrical coils at the bottom in turn, and Emily could see the nearly grateful expressions on their faces every time they were given a moment's respite at the top. Linda hadn't been lying, in only some eight weeks… that would be Emily.
The girl felt woozy. She knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that her mother had taken her to the Brazilian grill for no reason other than to torment her, and it was working. The dribble of milk that was leaking from her udders showed the world that she hadn't been emptied that day. It announced her as dairy cattle, and quite frankly, the fullness was more than a little painful. Literally every soul here could see it on her. Not to mention her sheer meatiness of course.
Out of the corner of her eye she could see one of the servers slice a massive chunk of flesh off of one of the completed roasts' rear, and proceed to parade it around to all the tables, in turn carving off smaller slabs for as many of the patrons as were still hungry. It was… terrifying, but also strangely enticing. Maybe it was all nothing more than the conditioning her family had thrust onto her but… there was something about the way these poor young women were being oggled. The attention they were getting. She wouldn't have wished being dehumed on her worst enemy. She was still utterly horrified to know that this was her… very near future. Still… It was so sensual. So intimate. She'd been told that since restaurants used a fatal amount of aphrodisiacs on their pigs just before sending them into the fire, forcing them to endure an absolutely wretched, unceasing, exhausting orgasm as they went. It didn't stop the pain, but it did make it secondary to the raw desire. What might it have felt like for those pathetic things on the rotisserie? Could they even think anymore?
A large, balding man approached the mother and daughter pair while the latter was so engrossed in her thoughts. His voice brought her out of contemplation however, instilling an almost achey dread with his words. "Are you offering to sell this one ma'am?"
Emily felt more butterflies in her stomach.
"I think I can give you a good two-thousand for it. I'd have to take her out back and weigh it but… it certainly appears to be well groomed for roasting."
Linda's reply only brought her partially back into a feeling of security. "Oh. No thank you. I've been preparing this one for a family event actually."
"Oh. I see. Well we certainly appreciate the window business. I've had several parties ask about her. About how much we'd charge for a private room roasting you see. So if you change your mind while here I'll be in the next room over."
Emily despised the strange swelling of pride she felt at apparently being so well desired.
"I'll think about it." was Linda's brief reply.
She'd think about it?! For some reason, even through all she'd been through, Emily found this to hurt a lot more than it should have. Up until then she'd at least felt like she'd be a special treat for her family. The best meat is home grown and all. Now her mother was "thinking" about it? About making her just another restaurant casualty? After all the work she'd put in?
—
Of course, she didn't sell Emily to the place. Elsewise she wouldn't be here, two months later being bound by her hands and feet to the kitchen island by that same woman. It hit a little differently now though. Now there was no hope of surviving the day. This. Was. It. She was going to be the family pig. She was going to end the day, smoking and steaming on a platter, utterly thoughtless. She was going to be a recreational centerpiece and nothing more… and she was terrified.
"N-no stop wait!" She didn’t care how pathetic she was coming off. "M-mommy please!"
"Oh, we're in this part of the preparations are we?" Linda smiled malevolently. "That's fine by me dear. It gives everything a bit more oomph."
Emily was almost certain the woman was tightening her restraints just a touch more to spite her now.
"Try not to read off of the same script everyone else does though, sweety. English was your one strength. The least you can do is put a little more effort into it." With that, Linda let a sharp *SMACK!* fill the air, landing one hand hard on the girl's buttock.
"Eek!" Emily's head rose high. This was the kind of thing she expected, and had even grown quite accustomed to of course. The fact that it would all be… coming to a head today however, gave it all something of a fresh coat of paint, in her mind. Or perhaps a new layer of baste was a more appropriate term.
"If you insist on being trite however, I do have this little gem I've been saving for the occasion."
Emily only heard her mother shuffling through shelves behind her for a time, before finally an oppressive looking gag between leather straps was dangled in front of her. "Okay… okay… Just… g-give me a moment to explain myself. I-I'll think of something.
"That's strike two honey. Think wisely about your next one." Linda warned, as her fingers next set about exploring Emily's curves. "Ooh~ If nothing else your sisters always do a good job of keeping you tender…"
Emily's mind was racing. No matter how hopeless she knew it was in the end, she had to try. Humiliation was a non-issue. She'd already been the family cow for months, but begging would only waste her one chance…
"Y-yep!" They're… really passionate about their um… job…" The words tumbled out of Emily's mouth before she could really think about them. "Y-you know… I-I bet they could really put on a good show… e-every day if you wanted them too."
Linda smirked, humored enough to let this keep going while she dipped a rubber basting brush into a bowl of sauce, invisible to the girl as it was directly between her legs. "Oh I don't doubt it sweetheart, but they don't really need you for that do they?" Rather than immediately set about coating the girl, Linda instead hovered the now heavy bristles over her round rear. She wanted Emily's anxiety for each step to gradually build. For the moment, that meant letting only the odd, cold drip fall down on top of her. She could practically hear the chaotic thoughts in her daughter's mind, while watching her body lightly twitch at every drop that touched her.
"U-Um… well I…" Emily swallowed. "Look mom. Everyone knows you like… umm… younger women…"
"It's not exactly a secret, dear. I even told your father on our second date."
"R-right… but umm… wouldn't you… like to… m-maybe have a chance at a harem of h-hand raised p-pets? Three pussies are better than two and…" Emily then felt three full force of the frigid brush suddenly stroke across a buttock. "Eep!"
"Hmm…" Linda playfully stroked a chin, putting a theatrical show as if she were deep in thought, for her two younger girls. All the time she continued to rub the tangy smelling sauce in with her other hand. "Three IS more than two…" She gave a sardonic tone as she "thought" about the offer. "But you know what?"
"Wh-what? We can talk about it, you know…"
"But the fact is I'm just having too much fun seeing how frightened you are, and we've all been so looking forward to this day. It would be a shame to just suddenly stop everything." She then proceeded to speed up her work, letting the rubber tips molest Emily's other side, then her thighs, and her feet, giving enough attention that the delightfully scented, orange baste was beginning to form an even, thin layer over the meat.
Subconsciously, Emily considered every square inch of her body that had been coated as a percentage towards her doom. Once every bit of her edible flesh had been coated, she would have been past the point of no return. "Umm… umm…" Her voice cracked as she struggled to find some way to continue.
"You could eat all three of us at the same time!" The offer spilled from her mouth with more than obvious desperation. Anyone in or… even near the house would have heard her. "You'd just need to take another year to prepare them too!"
"Emily Samantha Carmichael!" Linda's words were unusually maternal in their sternness after all this time. "I can't believe you would so easily try to throw your sisters under the bus this way!"
Emily felt a strange mix of guilt and insense at this. Hadn't the girl's regularly talked about just how much they wanted to eat her all year? Why did they get a pass while she was held to another standard? Right… It was because she was nothing more than a head of cattle now.
"But moooom!"
"Don't you mooooom me young lady. That's strike three. Open your mouth for the gag…"
Emily didn't want to follow orders in the slightest. She knew once that thing was placed between her lips, there would have gone her last lifeline. Nonetheless, something within the girl or… animal she'd become simply couldn't disobey. Almost instinctively she opened up for the heat resistant sphere, and almost instantly had Linda wedged it firmly in her jaw.
"Mgh mph!" Like countless women before her did, every day around the country, Emily went panickedly cross eyed to examine the thing that had silenced her, before looking back up at the woman who'd placed it. "Mmmmnnh?"
Linda was… of course, wearing a smug smile, proud of what she'd done to her own daughter. "Now, shall we continue?"
Following a quick trip around the meat for a fresh dip of the brush into the bowl, Linda continued to dutifully cover every inch of her little piggy's backside. She made certain to savor the little twitches given by the fat assed sow that the start of each pass provided. It wasn't long after that, that she determined seeing the poor girl this helpless was infinitely more enjoyable than listening to her beg. Making a mental note of this for future reference, she then continued to lather up Emily's baby back ribs and wings, chuckling while she pulled and shook futilely at the chains that bound her.
Another quick pass of the drumsticks polished off the sticky backside, prompting Linda to unshackle, then rebind the poor meatgirl, one limb at a time. First Emily's right arm was freed, only to be immediately tied to the opposite corner. The right leg followed, and then the treatment was reversed for her leftmost bits of meat…
To say that it was uncomfortable for Emily would be an understatement, but then again the meat's comfort was secondary to its secure restraint…
Linda was entranced by the vision before her, of Emily's impotent struggles which only caused her body, round in all the right places, to wobble delightfully before her. She really had done an excellent job raising the perfect little pigwhore this last year, and now it was time to enjoy the fruits of her labor. Both the labor of preparation, and of bringing it into the world those nineteen years ago…
Or at least it would be time for that soon. For now there was still work to do. Once again taking that very lucky brush, she began to stroke its soft bristles over Emily's curves. If there was one thing the lactation hormones had done, besides making the family a bit of money on the side, it was increase the girl's sensitivity two or three fold. Linda quickly noticed that, even despite the obvious fear painted across her face, Emily's nipples quickly grew hard at the stimulation, and shortly after, her vulva began to swell wildly once again.
Up and down, and side to side, Linda felt like a painter, polishing off a latest masterpiece as she worked. She could feel each bristle bend and give to the perfect, rounded shapes underneath them. She'd only be able to do this once on the girl, and dammit… She was going to make the day perfect.
After spending easily five minutes on each breast alone, the mother took a step back to admire her work. The sauce was spread just thick enough to be easily visible, without going so far as to take away the sensation of looking at a helpless, naked human… or former human, as the case more accurately was. There was an art to this. This was human expression, she thought.
"Now sweety, are you ready for the stuffing?" she asked rhetorically.
"Mmmph MMMNH!" The girl shook her head wildly.
"You're right. How silly of me. Of course you are, honey."
Emily whimpered pathetically, gawking uncomfortably at the large container her mother pulled from the fridge afterwards.
"Now, it's going to be a bit cold, dear, but I assure you it's entirely homemade as of last night." Linda said, as if that was of any comfort.
Moment's later, Emily was surprised to feel not the gush of bread and veggies, but a hard metal device being inserted into her womanhood, followed by an equally sturdy metal funnel. Even knowing that it was to dilate her as much as possible, she still couldn't help but give a shocked "Mnngh?!" It felt strangely alien and distracting. So much so, that it managed to soften her expectations up once more, such that when the actual food was forcibly pressed in, feeling bizarre against her love-tunnel walls, she simply wasn't as psychologically prepared for it as she might have been just a minute earlier. "MNNH MMGH!"
Handful after handful of the soft, cold substance was forced into Emily's vulnerable love tunnel, and Linda only seemed to pick up speed with each passing sound her daughter made. Each handful sent a tingle up the girl's spine as the mass of side-dish was pushed closer to, and eventually into her womb. The slight, instinctive reactions that Emily responded with, every time a new handful was forced into her, gave Linda the sensation of playing with a simple toy as a matter of fact. South her hand, Linda could feel the motions from inside her. The repeated squeaks and convulsions resulted in titillating bounces that called attention to those inflated breasts perfectly. Linda could only imagine how delicious they would be, rendered from the heat and used to baste the animal midway through the cooking process.
As the filling moved from the tupperware to find a new home in Emily's cooch, a small but unmistakable curve had begun to form at her belly. A passing comment from the twins about new meaning to the term "food baby" drew a deep blush from the animal, just as the last of the stuffing vanished inside her. She could feel her breath quickening. That was step two… done. It wouldn't be long and all that would be left would be to slide her into her father's handmade, artisan backyard oven…
Never given a minute to her own thoughts anymore, Emily was then assaulted by the new scent of something more… medical, nearby. Shortly after her mother began to firmly rub a thick, but transparent substance into her hair.
"To preserve your pretty little head and hair." she explained. "We want a good display after all, and a little memento of our plump little girly would be delightful…" There was a pause. "Though your cute little piggy noggin will probably still need a trip to a taxidermist… It says it won't prevent all heat damage…"
Emily simply groaned… How thoughtful…
*DING DONG!* The sound caused an army of butterflies to start fluttering in Emily's already engorged stomach. Her father never used the doorbell, obviously. It had to have been the first of the guests her mother mentioned earlier. With any luck, it would at least be…
"Veronica honey!" Linda beamed excitedly. "I was just about to truss our piggy up, and I could certainly use your help."
"Oh?" Veronica's footsteps could be heard halfway down the house, all the way until the girl entered the kitchen to stare wide eyed at Emily. "Oh wow! Look at that plump sow~ You really did a great job Mrs. Carmichael~"
The pig was a bit visibly hurt that even her oldest friend now only seemed to see her as meat, but there was something else in her eyes. Emily knew her well enough to see that Veronica was head over heels turned on at what she saw. But… Veronica had always been straight! At least that's what she told her.
Emily sighed heavily from behind the gag. Why not? Everyone else seemed to crave her body in one way or another. What was… seventeen years of friendship when compared to a nice meal? At least she was here for… well, her big day….
"Thank you sweety." Linda was infinitely more motherly sounding with Veronica than she'd been for Emily in a long time. "I put a lot of effort into this meal and I'm really proud of how it's working out. Now, can you help me get it all tied up and ready for the oven?"
"Yes ma'am!" No sooner had the college-bound girl said it, than were both of them descended upon her, sliding several lengths of cooking twine under her back. Veronica's lustful glances were all the more visible up close, as she and her mother then quickly tied a knot just above Emily's navel, then unbound her legs only to immediately secure them tightly against her torso.
"S-sorry Em… I just can't… I mean… you look s-so good like this." Veronica blushed intensely. "Is that… you know… weird?"
"Mnh mhhh!" came Emily's thoughtful reply.
"Of course it's not weird dear." Linda then offered. "Here we have a scrumptious morsel all tied up for the oven. I'd be concerned if you weren't excited for this prized porker." With that, she raised a hand and brought it down hard on Emily's ass, now exposed again with how she'd been tied.
"Mnnngh!" Emily tossed her head back. It was just about the only motion available to her at this time. "Mnnnh… mnhhh…"
"Now, onto its arms. Why don't you hold its wrists together while I wrap them up?" Linda directed.
Emily felt as though she wanted to hyperventilate, and she might have if the ball stretching her jaws didn't force her to take deep, long breaths through her nose. Soon enough she'd been tied tightly into an appetizingly humiliating suckling pig pose, with her hands forced to prop her head up, or currently, down, as she was still on her back on the prep table. Though she couldn't see it, seconds later she could certainly hear the clang of her mother's favorite silver platter hitting the island just below her ass. "Mnh mh?"
"Allright." Linda's hands gripped Emily's hip and shoulder on one side, followed by Veronica's on the opposite flank. "On three, we flip this cute little piggy onto the pan. Ready?"
Emily looked to the side to catch Veronica's eager nodding. At least someone was enjoying herself…
"One…"
This was it… All that would remain was a trip outside to the oven…
"Two…"
She was really going to just… die for the amusement of her friends and family. It wasn't fair… Her body began writhing in panic, forcing the two to hold her more harshly.
"Three!"
But… she wasn't ready! If they would all just give her another chance!
Without any further ado, mother and friend lifted her up and onto the pan like some… ham hock they'd bought at a pre-dolcett deli. Both gave loud grunts as they hefted the strategically fattened girl, but neither showed even the slightest hint of hesitation. Both were determined to see this animal roast.
"Oh if only your father were here already." Linda mused aloud to the pig. "He could probably do that by himself. That man's a workaholic." She paused for a moment. "Oh my… Seems we rubbed off a bit of the sauce in all that. Veronica honey, would you be a dear and rebaste those spots while I go get the meat cart?"
In lieu of a verbal answer, the girl simply gave a cartoonish salute, and instantly picked up the brush to begin. It wasn't long, after Linda had walked off, until Veronica was audibly moaning as she worked. Her hands couldn't help but find their way to Emily's curves, and the moment every bare spot was touched up, the bristles spontaneously seemed to find the pig's vulva, causing them to swell in anticipation.
"I-I'm really sorry Em… but… I just can't wait to eat you!" She bit down on a knuckle excitedly. "Like… gawd you look so sexy, so helpless like this."
"Mgmmmh?!" Even if she wasn't gagged, Emily would have been beyond words.
"I… I was thinking about you… and what was going to happen to you like… every time I drank your milk, and I realized something… I-I want your body Em… A-and if I can't have it in bed, I'll have it in my belly… you know?"
"Mhhh!"
Shortly after, Linda returned, rolling the cart up just as Veronica was about to coax yet another unwanted orgasm out of the meat, leaving both girls somewhat relieved and disappointed at the same time. "Shall we take this little piggy to her final destination?"
Again Veronica nodded wordlessly, and seconds later, with a few heaves, hos, and the sliding sound of the metal pan over the marble tabletop, poor, helpless little Emily was being carted through the back door towards the multicolored bricks of the oven. The doomed thing could already feel the heat from here, but no matter how much she struggled, the cart kept taking her closer… and closer…
"One more allyoop and we'll have this piggy on her way to tasty town~" remarked Linda, as she gripped the handles on one side of the tray, and directed for Veronica to do the same on her side.
"Mnnnngh!" Emily already couldn't bare the heat. She could only imagine what it would feel like in the inside…
The sound of a car pulling up interrupted their efforts, giving Emily a precious few more seconds.
"James? Is that you?" asked Linda. "We're just about ready to set the pig in the oven!"
"Hmm? Oh that's nice dear." responded her father, rather callously. "I'm going to take a shower so I'm ready for the guests. You have fun though."
Emily pouted for a moment. Of course he own father didn't even care about her plight. At least her mother had taken an interest in her.
"Oof!" The pig wasn't allowed to think anymore, as when she had, both woman and lady had lifted her up… and in…
"MEEEEEEGH!!!" The feeling of being roasted alive was far more intense, and terrifying than she even dreamt about all this time, and soon enough both sadistic perverts were treated to the sight of Emily's rotund butt, bouncing frightenedly up and down in a laughably pointless effort to loosen her binds.
Of course, Emily was fully aware of just how much those pairs of eyes were locked in on the spectacle of her desperation, but she didn't care. She couldn't care. A little embarrassment was the last thing on her mind right now. If there was even a minute chance of her being able to save herself, she had to take it… didn't she?
Linda's chuckles and Veronica's raspy, excited breathing did little to assuage Emily's spirit… at least at first. She wasn't sure exactly how long she'd been in the flames but… soon enough a trickle of new voices began to file in behind her. Neighbors… extended family… Was that Mrs Newright? The teacher who'd practically condemned her to this fate? Whoever they all were… this was a lot bigger than the intimate get-together her family had first talked about, and every one of these people were amused at her… gawking at her… laughing at her…
Suddenly the girl felt a good deal more self conscious. By struggling this way she was feeding right into their show, just as everyone wanted. There was no peace for a pig like her, and there was certainly no escape… By now she could feel her body gradually surrendering to the fire. Her body was really, truly roasting alive. How foolish was she to think she could escape her fate of being a night's meal?
I'm time, though not soon enough for Emily, the voices behind her grew more and more distant. Though it was hard to hear exactly over the crackle of the fire beneath her, she could make out a few games of badminton going on. Now and again her father or mother's voice could be heard in the distance, cracking some joke about how they always knew their little dunce was destined for a tabletop rather than a college. It had almost made the girl long to be carved up already if only to end the shame. There was… one voice that was consistently nearby however.
"Gee Em…" Veronica was always breathy when she talked to the pig. "You smell delicious~ U-um… so like… your mom said She'd let me have your…" She paused embarrassedly. "You know. Your umm… pussy, if I help out in your midway basting. Gotta stuff more into you then too." There was another lull of awkward thought before she spoke again. "So you're not like… mad at me are you? F-for really wanting to eat you?"
"Mhhh…" Emily was too weak to show any emotion any longer.
"Th-thanks Em… I-I'll do right by your meat. P-promise."
Gradually, even Emily was shocked at just how much her body had gotten used to the intense heat that surrounded her. It didn't hurt much any more, aside from a dull… warm ache, alongside the fear that she was going to DIE of course, accomplishing only a few hours of fun for everyone present and little else. The feeling of suddenly being jarred back out and away from the oven gave her more than a little start. She wasn't sure how long she'd been in, but she had been convinced she'd fade away in there without seeing the outside world again.
She almost still couldn't, in fact. After opening her eyes again, everything seemed to only be one big blur for her. Even as she felt her curved, meaty body wobble undignifiedly after being placed back on the serving cart, she herself couldn't make a single move. Her muscles had gone from locomotive tissue to medium rare meat by now.
"Oh~ She's browning up nicely~" commented one guest. Though Emily couldn't see any of them she could tell many had once again congregated around her.
"I don't know if you can hear me Em… but I'm gonna finish up your prep now."
Moments later, the piggy was relieved to have the ball gag finally removed, only to then feel something else be shoved into her mouth. In fact all she could manage was a few hot, literally steaming breaths. Whatever Veronica had replaced the gag with was sweet smelling and red… An apple, no doubt, though she couldn't be sure as… she had neither the vision to confirm, nor the strength to bite down on it. It was… traditional though.
There was an uncomfortably long interlude, as the diners once again began to talk amongst themselves, before the apprentice chef finally returned with the next step. Emily could only give a, quite literally, half baked "Mnnnh!" as she felt something long and wet part her lower lips once again. She couldn't be sure but… it felt like… asparagus? "Mggh!" One stick after another, with its sharp, bumpy texture was pressed into her prized filet. Judging from the way Emily could feel them slide forward and back, Veronica was taking this last chance to fulfill a little fantasy of hers. However, what really took the humiliated pig by surprise, was the girthy vegetable that finally joined the others, in the center.
"Mnhh!" Just like its predecessors, Veronica made this massive number into a makeshift dildo, and no matter how hurt she was that her best friend was deriving pleasure from using her like a sex toy, something else took over Emily's mind… Fuck it! The thought rang to her both metaphorical and literal. This was her last chance. She'd been nothing but a love doll to most of her family for the last year. One more time wasn't going to stain her consciousness.
She imagined herself gyrating her hips around the long, thick veggie, though, she couldn't know if she was actually moving or not. Probably not… but it helped drive the tiny, largely false, sense of consensuality that she tried to convince herself of. Faster and faster she, or more appropriately, Veronica went. Emily was glad she was tireless at least, and soon enough, surprising herself most of all, she found the energy to… finally…
"Mnnnhhhhh! Mh… mh…" Convincing herself, mostly through denial, that this was one of her most intense orgasms ever, Emily then closed her eyes, letting her friend slide her back into the oven one more time.
"I heard that Em… you dirty meat slut~" she heard Veronica say.
"Oh, look at our cute little piggy finally serving her purpose~" came Linda's voice.
"I'm glad she was good for something…" was the last thing she heard from her father.
"Mom! Can I have a piece of that tit?"
"I'll take an extra slice of that rump when she's ready…"
How about a drumstick when the time comes, dear?"
Emily's passing went largely unnoticed by the crowd. Who cares about a pig's death after all? Her body would continue to roast for another three or four hours afterward, when the family began to light the copious tiki style torches they'd bought for the occasion.
James had been quick to stealthily remove some of the more unpalatable bits from his former daughter just as she was pulled out of the oven. The organs, save for the stuffed womb, which was left connected and intact, would at least make for good sausage some time later. It was only starting then, that he began to give Emily much attention that evening really. With his gutted, cooked “little girl” in front of him at the center of the large bamboo table he’d earlier set out for the barbecue, it was time to get to work…
After piercing the animal’s left buttock with a sharpened carving fork, letting a dribble of meat juices slither down onto the pan, James then proceeded to slice thin little petals of flesh partially off, such that they draped off, dangling from Emily’s pelvis only barely. Within minutes each of these steaks had been nabbed by hungry patrons, who’d been tormented by the scent of the girl roasting for long enough. Each of them dug in with animalistic ferocity, never sparing a moment to think of the lost life of their pig. True to her word, Linda allowed Veronica to enjoy the prime cut, though she did manage to mooch a taste of her labia from her assistant. After all, Linda had put so much effort into properly fattening the sow in all the right places, whilst having it keep an attractive hourglass shape.
Emily’s once milky udders were another favorite treat of the crowd, full of rendered fatty juices that made everyone’s mouth water. The round medallions of breast meat were excellent when paired with butt cuts and thigh portions, making everything just a little more juicy. Dominique and Amy were each fortunate enough to snag their sister’s nipples among other bits, and they made a point to teasingly play with their food before finally digging in.
Piece by piece, cut by cut, side dish by side dish, poor, stupid Emily disappeared into the bellies of everyone present, until only her pretty little head and cute skeleton remained. She’d been the biggest food hit of the year in fact, though nobody cared quite enough to memorialize her, save of course for the delightfully blank head that was left over. That was… of course, more of a final insult than anything however, and everyone knew it. So perfectly developed was the meat, that Linda even managed to get an unexpected offer. Mrs Newright was willing to hand over her own daughter to be prepared for next year’s feast, much to the girl’s abject horror...
It would be another day of just resting lifelessly in the living room, before Emily's head was properly touched up and stuffed. It enjoyed a place of "honor" just above the television, forever wearing a dumb, humiliating expression, fitting for an unintelligent piggy or… cow or… piece of meat, such as herself…
Posted by milkytascha 1 year ago Report
I've always wanted to write a similar scenario - just with feminization. Loved it. I love those abrupt shifts from normal person to livestock.
Posted by Badviper 1 year ago Report
Feminization could be a fun angle for this kind of story aye. ^^
Posted by milkytascha 1 year ago Report
Well, maybe if I find time and muse again. But I always love when I see you posting a story <3
Posted by SnackPup 1 year ago Report
Trans Girl Meat?
Posted by Badviper 1 year ago Report
Aye aye. That could be fun too. ^^ My understanding of the distinction is that a trans girl willingly undergoes the transition, whereas a feminized male (at least in these fetish circles) has it more or less forced on them. The latter, of course is or should be, only really used in roleplay or fictional scenarios. The usual plot vehicle is typically through hypnosis or some other, harsher form of coersion.
Posted by milkytascha 1 year ago Report
There is also the angle that it's a closeted person or someone a bit in denial or secretive about it. But yeah, it's something that for fictional scenarios.
Posted by milkytascha 1 year ago Report
My current idea is that it's someone who was away for college and is on holiday/spring break now visiting family. But they found out that they where crossdressing/thinking about transitioning and now the family pushes it on them because they need a cow/thanksgiving roast/canditate for a family BBQ next year.
Posted by milkytascha 1 year ago Report
Basically, Badviper explained it well. It's a bit of a fetish thing. In my Trans Meatgirl stories so far the transition was always volunteerily.
Posted by Nightguard13 1 year ago Report
Boy I'm glad people like that in real life get what's coming to em