Bootleg Wars free porn video

Bootleg Wars

? Spitman, 2006

SCENARIO

The consumption of meat harvested from human females is a major industry in the world of this story, so much so that official agencies have been set up in the USA and elsewhere to control the breeding and harvesting industries, and to maintain the highest possible Real Meat standards.

The CRMPA or California Real Meat Processing Authority is the foremost of these authorities. The CRMPA is required by the US government to ensure that Real Meat (human female meat) is healthy, nourishing and fit for human consumption at the point of delivery. As a major player in meat production and processing, the CRMPA is constantly researching newer, more humane and increasingly efficient processing technology, that increases plant throughput, reduces labour costs, and achieves better profit margins.

In addition to its role in applying and maintaining FDA Real Meat Regulations in the USA, the CRMPA is also responsible, on behalf of the FDA, for negotiating with other real meat processing authorities around the world, and agreeing on international standards for the global Real Meat trade.

The success of the whole industry depends on the desire of every girl to be an attractive and delicious meat product. A CRMPA-raised meatgirl wants to look good and feel good on a spit, and she hopes she will taste good once she is roasted. She wants to please a man’s eye as well as his stomach. She wants everybody to enjoy her meat, so she works on her fitness and her muscle tone, especially her vulva muscles, and she takes pride whenever the inspectors record an increase in her estimated meat yield after processing. Secretly she yearns for the day when she will finally become what she has long imagined in her dreams and her waking moments. She knows that the feel of the spit will come with enormous pleasure, but not without pain. She knows that she will scream and scream until the spit fills her mouth and she is finally silenced. She will feel the searing heat of the flames, and be glad that her meat will roast beautifully, as the spit warms her filet.

In the end, it is only a process for harvesting meat from walking stock. Cooperation makes that process so much easier. No CRMPA-bred meatgirl can resist the impulse to submit, when the spitting machine is right there waiting for her. Harvesting is inevitable. The system knows when her meat will be most perfect, and most valued. She will eagerly position herself. Processes do not go backwards. Other girls will be waiting behind for their turn. She will not want to cause a delay. She will do exactly what she is told, as quickly as she can, and everything will go incredibly fast after that. Girls go in, and meat comes out. Simple, really.

The consumer, on the other hand, just wants something to eat, preferably something that looks good while it’s cooking, but all that really matters is that he has a good, nice tasting, chunky piece of tender meat on his plate. That is what pleases him, and what makes him smile with satisfaction after a good meal.

Investors want a product that can be traded on the futures market years before it matures as a commodity. A girl’s meat is often traded dozens of times before it is finally harvested. Job lots are sold for delivery to a retailer, restaurant or event at a future date. Traders are careful to sell the meat when its price is highest, and before increasing age reduces its tenderness, and it loses its suitability as an attractive spitroast. Speculators also hold lots in reserve, hoping that demand will peak at a future time and they will get a higher price.

Many methods of preparation for spitroasting are in popular use. In addition to the best methods available in a modern processing plant, older machines are still kept as a novelty and used occasionally. Some girls even imagine that there is a prestige attached to being processed on a classical machine such as the J3000.

Most women lead perfectly normal lives until they are harvested. Many women have families outside the breeding farms, and every business has a large proportion of female staff.

The most insidious and dangerous form of criminal activity is, of course, girlmeat bootlegging. Obtaining females for processing by kidnapping or deception, girlmeat bootleggers undermine both international Real Meat quality standards and local Real Meat prices.

The Federal Agency for Real Meat Standards (FARMS) investigates and prosecutes Real Meat bootleggers anywhere in the world. FARMS has both male and female undercover agents, and a large office staff.

Undercover investigative work of this kind exposes female agents to the risk of being harvested in the course of pursuing an enquiry, so every female Agent is regularly tested to ensure that her meat remains in compliance with official meat standards, and will not breach regulations if it enters the foodchain.

Chapter 1

Tania hummed happily as she arrived at the downtown office where she usually worked. The entrance was on the fifteenth floor of the Federal Building, and the imposing logo etched into the glass of the door read simply 'FARMS'. Before she entered she checked herself out in the mirrored surface of the panel beside the door. As always, she grinned at the image of a pretty face, and a well rounded body that looked ripe for harvesting, but that was just part of the job. As an undercover Agent, she wouldn't last five minutes unless she looked the part. The skimpy material of her halter stretched taut over the firm thrusting curves of her breasts, and tented over her prominent nipples. Beneath her skirt she wore nothing but the regulation gold ring through one pussy lip, but of course her belt, collar and shoes matched her white leather purse. The effect pleased her and after that momentary pause, she entered the office.

'Ah, there you are Tania! There's a meeting in my office in five minutes.'

'OK Bill, I'll be right with you.'

She sauntered past Susan the receptionist, and through the open plan office to her desk. She left her bag there, collected a pad and pen, and made her way to Bill's corner office.

'What's up, Bill?' She asked, while he settled himself behind his desk.

'It's another report of a bootleg operation across town. Dave will brief you. He'll be with us momentarily.'

Just then Dave entered.

'Hi Dave,' she said cheerily. Every one of her workmates was a stud, and there was nothing wrong with that, but he was her favourite. He was gorgeous.

'Hi Tania, Bill.'

'I'll let you start off, Dave,' Bill told him.

'Apparently there's a bootleg Real Meat processing and packing plant in farm buildings, five miles North of town. They have pretty good security and we can’t get a male Agent in, so the only option is to send you in.'

'What's the plan?' Tania asked.

'I’ll be keeping an eye on the place, and we’ll send you in with a chauffeur as a VIP visitor from the Mob. An undercover operative in Detroit managed to get you an invite for a tour of the plant under an assumed ID, and we’ve organised authentic papers for you. They shouldn’t suspect anything, because they get regular checks like that. The only thing unusual is that you’re female, but I don’t expect that to be a problem. The Mob have plenty of female operatives at that sort of level.

‘What do you want me to look out for?’

‘Anything about how they source the meat, and what preparation and processing facilities they have. There are also reports that they’ve opened an unlicensed barbecue area in one of the fields behind the main farm. If you can, check that out too. Apparently it's getting popular, and that's how we heard about the operation. Your appointment is for 10:30, so you'll have to get moving.'

Tania was relieved. A routine assignment with a decent cover. Not bad at all.

'Thanks Dave.' She turned to Bill. "Is that all, Bill?'

'There's just one more thing,' he said with a look that set her heart racing. 'Dave, you can leave us now. Thanks for the briefing.'

The door closed behind Dave and Bill came round the desk.

'You know what I want - kind of a good luck thing.'

She grinned and bent over his desk while he unfastened his pants. She was already juicing with anticipation. She gasped as his ten inch dong sank deep into her pussy, squirming as he pumped rapidly, while his fingers sought and found her pleasure button and teased it gently. She felt the tide of pleasure rising within her. Moments later his come spurted vigorously deep into her while she gasped in a distractingly powerful climax. She felt weak at the knees as he withdrew, helped her up and took her hand.

'Well done, Tania. I know you'll get the job done as always. Good luck!'

'Thank you Bill. I'll be all right,' she told him. Being fucked was a great way to take your mind off the rather less appealing possibilities that always arose on a mission like this, she thought.

She almost staggered as she left the office. The others were grinning. They knew perfectly well what had gone on in Bill's office. He always sent them off with a fuck to remember them by! It was as good an excuse as any to fuck one of the female Agents, and Tania was well used to the routine.

*****

The FARMS surveillance vehicle was a nondescript looking van, looking like a run down farm delivery vehicle. It was concealed from the target buildings by a wood. Dave had advanced to the edge of the wood to get a closer look without approaching the buildings.

He was covering the farm through binoculars, when he heard the noise of an engine approaching. A few moments later a bus arrived. A large group of girls emerged, all wearing cheerleader uniforms, and chattering noisily. He heard shrieks of laughter as they entered the building. Damn, Dave thought, this is a bigger operation than we thought.

‘D to T, stand by. There are birds in the orchard,’ he said, using the prearranged code for stock arriving.

The moment the girls had disappeared the bus pulled away. This was not a casual visit, Dave thought. Those girls are not going anywhere after this. He wondered how the scam could possibly have worked. Focusing on the bus with his binoculars, he caught the plate number and called it in. That might prove to be a good lead, with any luck.

‘D to T, the birds have flown,’ Dave said over the radio intercom.

‘T to D, Roger,’ Tania said, and gestured for the chauffeur to drive in and drop her off.

‘I’ll call you to pick me up,’ she told him, aware that she was most probably being watched on CCTV as she arrived. She was also testing the listening device implanted invisibly under her ear. Everything she heard or said inside the building would be recorded. It was reassuring to know that even if it all went wrong, there was a very good chance that FARMS would get the evidence they needed to shut the bootleggers down.

*****

The farm buildings looked run down from the outside, and Tania was surprised to see an ultra-modern glass and metal entrance, without any indication of a company name, or the nature of its business.

The reception area was well furnished, with comfortable looking, plushly upholstered seats and a relaxing style of decor. Behind the desk was a smiling girl with an elegant hairstyle, wearing a neat uniform. Tania approached, noticing the girl’s distractingly large breasts that filled out her pretty white blouse.

‘Another one! I thought I’d checked you all in!’ The receptionist said irritatedly.

‘Er, I’m not with anyone. I represent . . . .’

‘The Redatti organisation,’ the girl said apologetically. ‘I’m so sorry, we get a lot of stock through here and it’s so hard to know when visitors arrive. Please allow me to apologise. I’ll page Mr Benone immediately. He’s expecting you.’

'Thank you, she answered.

‘Would you like a coffee while you're waiting?'

'No, thank you. I'll just wait.'

Bootleggers had been known to administer drugs in the coffee they supplied to visitors. She was not about to fall for that one!

'Miss Davenport? I'm Jack Benone. You can call me Jack.'

'Hi Jack. I understand you've got a tour fixed up for me.'

'We certainly have. Your organisation is very important to us, and we want you to know how well we’re doing down here. Mary has the papers ready.'

Tania looked questioningly at this. ‘Papers?’

'It's only a formality for signing in purposes. We have to do it to cover ourselves for liability, and of course we want to show you as much as possible during your visit. You might even want to come back in another capacity, after you report back to your organisation,’ he said with a leer. ‘We offer an extremely efficient process. I think you’ll be impressed, if you are familiar with this sort of thing.’

‘Mr Benone, at Redatti we pride ourselves on being prepared for any eventuality. Let me assure you that I am very familiar with meat processing facilities. We have some very efficient plants ourselves.’

‘No offence, Miss Davenport. It’s just a little unusual for a woman to be doing this sort of thing.’

She smiled. ‘On the contrary, most of our inspectors are women. We find that they understand some of the details of the - er - process rather better than most men do.’

‘I see. All the same, I’m sure you’ll understand the need for . . . .’

‘Of course, Mr Benone. No problem.’

He passed her the papers. She looked through them, feigning a casual air, while he continued.

'We use the same forms for all of our visitors. From the liability standpoint it makes no difference if you are an ordinary female visitor or a VIP. On a practical level, the risks are the same.’

‘I see,’ she said.

The hairs prickled on the back of Tania’s neck when she saw a clause transferring her processing rights. On that basis they could trick any female visitor into being processed, protected by a kind of pseudo legality that most girls would neither understand nor question. It was exactly the kind of thing she wanted to find out. Fortunately, they would hardly dare to process an official representative of Don Redatti, she thought. All the same, she ought to question it.

‘What’s this,’ she asked.

‘Oh that. We want every visitor to feel that the value of her meat is fully appreciated by the Company. When you are on our premises, technically your meat becomes a part of our inventory. It’s just a legal thing, really. It covers us in case there’s a discrepancy in our stock and we are contracted to deliver an order immediately, not that it’s likely to happen. I don’t remember it ever happening, but I’m sure you’ll understand that legally we are obliged to fulfil our contractual obligations if we have the necessary item in our inventory, and by the way, I hope you won’t be offended if I ask if you have been inspected recently yourself!’

Tania grinned. ‘Well, I know I’m only visiting, but you need have no worries on that score. I was selected from the best of the graded stock before I started my training, and I am inspected on a regular basis. In fact my last inspection was three days ago, and I was in the upper quartile of US Prime.’

Jack was obviously drooling at the thought of the gourmet meat he could lay his hands on. In your dreams, she thought. The boys in the van would be loving this! As for his answer to her question, it was actually a pretty good legal argument. There was only one problem. The whole operation was illegal, so contractual obligations simply did not apply. Rather than argue the point, she quickly signed the forms and handed them back.

‘Thank you, Miss Davenport. We want you to feel a ‘real’ part of what we are doing here.’

That use of the word ‘real’ gave her a funny feeling inside, very much like the feeling she had whenever she had to watch a Jessica machine in operation, or a Real Meat butcher at work.

‘Let’s hope you don’t need it,’ Tania told him in a serious tone of voice.

‘Don’t worry,’ he reassured her. ‘Now shall we proceed? We can start through here. We received a batch a few minutes ago but they’ll be into the processing area by now. You’ll be able to see the whole process in operation from our management walkway above the processing floor, and then we'll go down for a closer look at the various stages of the process. There’s another batch coming in shortly, so you’ll be able to see how we deal with them as they come in.’

That sounds ominous, she thought.

He led her into a large locker room where two smiling attendants stood at attention. There was no sign of the girls who had entered previously, but she noticed part of a cheerleader uniform sticking out from a large laundry basket. Another basket lay open.

'This is the disrobing room where arriving stock leave their garments. I suggest you do the same. It gets very messy at times on the processing floor, and there's no point in soiling your outfit. John, will you take Miss Davenport's things, and hang them carefully for her. She’ll be back for them later.'

'Certainly, Sir.'

That sounded reassuring, but Tania was not fooled. They probably said that to all the girls, and the moment they were through the door, it would all be dumped in the basket. All the same, she knew better than to protest. Apart from the stupidity of behaving as a prude, what he said made very good sense.

She removed her clothes and gave them to John, enjoying their reaction to her body that was, if anything, more upmarket than that expensive outfit; certainly from the point of view of an expert in the finer qualities of Real Meat. Jack seemed particularly interested in her US Prime 1 grading stamp. That was pretty unusual. Subgrades were only used by the biggest organisations. The thick gold ring through her pussy lip was impressive too. They didn’t use anything as expensive as gold for common meatgirl stock. Miss Evelyn Davenport was certainly not common, Jack thought. In fact she was utterly mouthwatering.

'The showers are through there. Lisa will demonstrate the equipment we use to check the cattle - er - stock, before they enter the processing hall. We are very strict about hygiene around here, as you will see. If you don't mind, Lisa will demonstrate the procedure, and you’ll see how thorough it is.’

‘Ok,’ she answered, stepping through the door he indicated. In this environment it felt right to be naked, especially when she saw the rubber aproned girl who awaited her.

‘Miss Davenport?’

‘Yes, that’s me. You must be Lisa!’ She said with a smile.

‘Mr Benone told me to demonstrate how we check the girls before they go through the process,’ Lisa said.

‘That’s fine, Lisa. Please go ahead.’

‘Yes, Miss. This will only take a moment. Please stand with your legs wide apart and bend down as far as you can.’

Tania complied. She felt something slender and cool sliding into her bottom.

‘What’s that?’ She asked. If it had been a proper CRMPA plant she would have known exactly what it was.

‘It’s a hygiene tester,’ Lisa answered. ‘Are you on a Fibre-Floss? diet?’

‘Oh yes,’ Tania answered. ‘I find it helps me to control my weight, and it keeps my muscles firm too.’

Being on a permanent Fibre-Floss? diet was mandatory for a female FARMS agent. There were lots of places a girl would not be allowed to go without passing a hygiene test like this one. Enemas were rarely used any more. They were far too slow, labour intensive and messy. What’s more, they really didn’t work. The only way to make sure there was nothing harmful in a girl’s gut was to put her on a Fibre-Floss? diet for several days. Not only did it clean out all that nasty stuff, it sterilised her insides too. After a girl was on that diet for over three days, you could cook her whole and eat any part of her. Eliminating gutting made the whole process of harvesting a girl far more efficient, and also a lot more pleasant for the girl.

‘I can see that,’ Lisa told her. ‘You have a great body, and according to the tester you are totally clean.’

‘Thank you, Lisa,’ she answered as the girl removed the tester from her bottom.

‘Please stand up now, but keep your legs apart,’ Lisa instructed. ‘I need to check you for hair.’

Obediently Tania stood still with her legs wide apart as Lisa explored her slit with expert fingers. That was one worry Tania didn't have. She always checked her depilation on a daily basis. An agent never knew when she might be inspected.

Lisa looked impressed as she patted Tania’s bottom as if to move her on. 'You’ve done a pretty good job yourself down there, Miss! As smooth as if I'd just done you.’ Realising what she had just done, she said, ‘Sorry Miss, it’s a habit, handling girls in a line and all,’ she said apologetically. ‘When you do it all day long you get into a routine.’

‘That’s ok, Lisa,’ Tania answered. ‘You’re only doing your job, and a good one by the looks of it. Where did you get your training?’

‘I really shouldn’t say, but as you’re a special visitor I can tell you,’ she began. ‘I started in Chicago, and that’s where I got my training, but then I moved to St Louis, and now I’m here in Oklahoma. Anyway, I’d better get you finished before the next batch come in. The showers are through there. You should be particularly careful to clean your bottom hole. There's a vertical nozzle; all you need to do is stand over it, and it'll clean everywhere you need it. The water will turn on and off automatically when you stand there.'

Tania enjoyed the luxurious shower, parting her legs to enjoy the douche fountain which continued for a good few seconds and then shut off. She felt incredibly clean and refreshed, and she smelled wonderful.

‘It feels good, doesn’t it, Miss!’ Lisa suggested.

‘It’s great,’ Tania answered. ‘How do they do that?’

‘There’s a touch of menthol and eucalyptus in the water,’ Lisa answered with a smile. ‘I always take a shower when I come off shift. I love that clean, fresh feeling. It’s the best part about this job. Now come through here and you can use a drying cubicle.’

Warm air blowers dried Tania's body in moments.

‘Right, Miss, you can go back through now. Jack is waiting for you.’

‘Thank you, Lisa,’ Tania told her. ‘You’re doing a great job in here!’

‘It’s my pleasure, Miss, seeing you are a special person and all.’

When she returned to the locker room. Jack was waiting for her, smiling.

'What do you think, so far?' He enquired.

'Very thorough,' Tania answered.

'Right, then let's go up to the management walkway. The stairs are through here. Oh, and by the way, this is a hard hat area. You should find a hard hat to fit you over there.'

Surprised, Tania tried a few hard hats before she found one that fitted her. It was made of yellow plastic. It was peculiar to be stark naked and having to wear a hard hat, but safety laws made about as much sense in most places, she thought. The idea of safety for a girl in a girlmeat processing plant was bizarre. At worst, the equipment would do exactly what it was designed for. It hardly mattered who the girl was when her meat was being harvested. It certainly made no difference to the process.

She smiled as she followed Jack up the stairs. This kind of thing was exactly why she had wanted the job. From one day to the next you had no idea where you were going to be, or what you were going to be doing, and there was a constant frisson of excitement, every single day, on every single investigation.

*****

Amy hardly noticed the countryside passing as she talked animatedly to Suzy on the bus. It was exciting to be on a special tour with her cheerleader friends, especially as this was their very first visit to a girlmeat processing facility. What made it even more exciting was the preparation their cheerleading coach had insisted upon. Being on a Fibre-Floss? diet was pretty cool, but they had all been using EZ-Glide? since two months before they had passed their first official grading inspection at the school, and received their meatgirl tags. Three months later that seemed like a long time ago, but Amy would never forget it.

The inspection had taken place in the school gymnasium, in the presence of the physical education teacher, the cheerleading coach and other teachers, the Headmaster, and a small party of invited guests, including elected officials.

The girls were all proud to show off their beautifully developed bodies in front of the distinguished guests. Amy was particularly proud of her breasts, and she was sure her filet would pass inspection. That part of her, especially the inner ring of muscle around her vulva, had become distinctly meatier during the last few weeks. Other girls had noticed the same thing. Most of them thought it was just that they had reached that stage of development, or put it down to the special exercises they all did in physical education class, but Amy thought it was far too coincidental that around the time she began to notice those changes, she had just started using EZ-Glide? every morning and evening (and sometimes in between, because it felt so nice).

All the girls knew that EZ-Glide? was a special kind of grease that made their cunts more slippery and sensitive to the spit, but it was more exciting than any ordinary spitlube. Amy loved the tingly sensation in her cunt when she applied it. The idea that her well impregnated cunt was going to lubricate a real spit one day was awesomely cool. It was like a secret preparation for becoming a spitroast, and that was Amy’s best dream. It was also a favourite topic of conversation among her cheerleading friends.

That morning the girls had all been told to make sure their pussies were perfectly smooth, with not a wisp of hair. Amy was proud of her slit. Her lips were prettily rounded and her slit was low, with a deep dimple at the top, which made it look rather like a keyhole, she thought. She had often dreamed about someone inserting a key in there, and opening her somehow. Maybe she could have a sort of key peeping out, with its bottom inserted through the ridge of her clitoris, and the top made into a ring. She loved those fantasies. She imagined that she was a captive being tugged along by a chain attached to that key, utterly helpless to resist as she was whipped, then bent over and fucked. The idea of being helpless like that always made her wet.

The inspector had been as impressed as the girls with their development. Amy and her friend Suzy had both been graded US Prime, and the inspector had commented that both of their filets were well on the way to an above average yield of premium quality meat. It seemed that cheerleading was an excellent activity for the development of that particular part of a girl’s anatomy, and he complimented the coach on his work, much to Amy’s amusement. Still, every one of the cheerleading squad was in the top quartile of the meat grades awarded that day, so maybe, just maybe there was something in it, apart from the EZ-Glide?. Maybe it was the combination, Amy had finally decided after talking it through with Suzy.

The inspection itself had been shockingly exciting. Amy had not thought much about it when they bound her wrists together behind her back, but when the inspector’s fingers began to explore the intimate folds of her denuded pussy, she discovered how utterly powerless she was in his hands. The most awful discovery was that for the first time, somebody was examining her body for the single minded purpose of harvesting her meat. The more he prodded and poked her breasts, hips and thighs with his instruments, the stronger that feeling became. Even the reassuring pat on her bottom when he had finished was something you did to a stock animal, not a girl who was just as human as he was, and understood human speech.

Obediently she moved on, suddenly aware of the wetness of her pussy. Attendants bent her over, lifted her wrists and she felt the burn of the brand that imprinted her stock ID on the upper side of her bare bottom cheek, then the cooling, soothing balm that protected it. Amy remembered how much she had trembled at the last step, when she received the tag that certified her meat quality. You got to the front of the line and stood astride, trembling with excitement, while the attendant applied a small gun to your pussy lip. It didn’t hurt much, and then you felt an unaccustomed weight hanging from your pussy. It was an incredible feeling to walk back, displaying the tag, while the spectators applauded your graduation. The whole experience had made her feel like a real meatgirl immediately. It was all so exciting!

On her way back across the gym, she felt the tag in her pussy lip, and suddenly it sunk in. She was a real meatgirl. There was no going back. Her stock ID was in the lottery already, and she had a top meat grade, one that must be in demand. She might be called in for processing any day. It might be tomorrow, next month or next year, but she would bet on it being sooner rather than later. Half way across the gymnasium she had that tingly feeling in her pussy, and she knew they could all see the wetness of her slit. She held her head high with pride. The moment was unforgettable.

Apparently the results of the inspection were so impressive that the school had been notified of a special award, which was a free educational trip to a meat processing facility, including a tour of the working plant. The Headmaster was delighted at this recognition of the school’s achievement, and agreed immediately. The only rather curious proviso was that any staff accompanying the students should all be female.

Two months after they had graduated the students and staff were on the bus, eagerly looking forward to the tour, Amy and Suzy among them. The company had been most insistent that the whole cheerleading squad should be on the trip, but the extra places could be filled with other girls who had graduated with a good meat grade. About a third of the girls on the trip were in the cheerleading squad.

The girls all cheered as the bus turned onto a farm road. They must be nearly there! At the end of the farm road the bus turned into a large paved area next to some farm buildings. It didn’t look much like a plant, but it did have a row of loading bays on the side of one of the buildings, right next to the paved area.

A well dressed man entered the bus and picked up the microphone.

‘Right girls, welcome to McGinty Farm, Oklahoma. The buildings you see have been converted into one of the most modern meat processing facilities in the country, but we decided to preserve this fine example of 19th Century architecture. I’m sure you’ll agree that it still looks just like the farm it once was. If you look behind the buildings, the smoke is from a barbecue area, where we are hosting delegates from a medical convention this evening. You are all welcome to join us there after the tour. Now please follow me to the reception area where you will start your tour.’

The girls chattered noisily as they made their way to the opulent looking reception area. On their way into the building each girl was handed a paper marked ‘Registration Form’.

‘Quiet please, girls!’ the guide announced. ‘While you are on the tour, please listen out for instructions. It is very important that you do exactly what the guide and attendants tell you. This is a working plant where you will see real girls being processed, and we don’t want any accidents, do we!’ This drew an immediate laugh from the girls. They could imagine just what kind of accident he meant!

‘You have all received a Registration Form. This is just a formality that we require for legal reasons. Your school knows call about it. Please insert your meat stock number in the space provided, and sign at the bottom. School staff should also complete the form. Are there any questions?’

‘Please Sir,’ a girl asked. ‘I don’t know my stock number, and I can’t see it on my bottom. What should I do?’

‘Just ask one of the other girls to look on your bottom and read it for you. Any more questions? No? Then please complete the forms and hand them in at the registration desk.’

Obediently the girls scribbled their numbers on the forms and signed them, with much giggling as girls who couldn’t remember their numbers had their bottoms read by their friends.

‘Now girls, please follow me to the changing rooms.’

Changing rooms? Amy and Suzy exchanged glances.

‘Girls, you will see numbered pegs and lockers around the room. You are not allowed to wear clothing in the plant, for safety reasons. It can get caught in the machinery. Also things can get messy in there, and you don’t want to spoil those beautiful outfits, do you! Please put your clothes where you can find them again.

That made sense, Amy thought. The two of them chose 51 and 52. One of them was bound to remember!

When all the girls were undressed, the guide called for their attention again.

‘Girls, this is where you begin the tour. The first part is where girls have the hygiene check before entering the plant. Our attendants will demonstrate the procedure, but as there are a lot of you, please get in line and follow the girl in front of you.’

Amy and Suzy got into line, Amy behind Suzy. There were over twenty girls ahead of them, so they had to be patient as they shuffled forward.

‘Bend down with your legs apart. This probe is the hygiene tester. It goes in here (Suzy felt a slender probe sliding into her bottom) and we read it on this remote. You pass. Next!’

Obediently Amy bent over and felt the probe inserted into her bottom. It was not an unpleasant sensation.

‘You pass! Next!’ She heard, and followed Suzy through into the showers. The water felt incredibly fresh, too fresh to be simple water. She sniffed. Ah, she thought. They had added something. It was quite pleasant. Then she and Suzy were in drying cubicles, side by side. There was no body hair to dry, and it took no time at all. When they were ready they found two exit doors, side by side. The original markings were covered with hastily prepared notices saying, ‘Cheerleaders’ and ‘Others’.

Just as Amy was about to follow Suzy through the right hand door, she saw Lottie who was about to open the left hand door. Lottie was not in the cheerleader squad, but they did spend time together.

?‘Hi Lottie!’

‘Oh, hi Amy. Exciting, isn’t it! I can’t wait to see what’s through this door!’

‘’Neither can I!’ Amy admitted.

Amy followed Suzy through the Cheerleaders door. They found themselves in a corridor, at the end of a line of their cheerleader friends. A new guide was at the front of the line.

‘Girls, please pay attention,’ he called. ‘The next part of the tour is the processing area. For your personal safety we are taking you through one at a time. Now to make this feel more realistic, one of our attendants will pass down the line, and show you how we prepare the girls on a real production run. Please do exactly as he says, and watch carefully. It takes a lot of practice to do this properly.’

Amy was puzzled, wondering what was going to happen. The attendant was working fast, and soon he had arrived at Suzy.

‘Turn around and place your wrists behind you, one crossed over the other!’ He said.

Obediently Suzy turned and the moment she crossed her wrists, with a deft series of movements he bound them together. And then it was Amy’s turn.

He repeated the order and Amy complied obediently. She felt the cord binding her wrists. It reminded her of the graduation day at school two months before. The binding was extremely tight. Now her breasts and pussy were excitingly exposed again, with her hands neatly secured out of the way. Last time that had happened she had been branded and pierced through her pussy lip. Was this really just a part of the tour, she wondered? She was soon going to find out.

***

Meanwhile Lottie had passed through the left hand door, up some steps and onto a different level where the rest of the girls in her group were waiting. Just behind her was her best friend, Jan, and in front was Patricia.

‘I’ve got a funny feeling about this,’ she told Jan in a low voice.

‘It’s weird, and a bit scary, but I can’t wait to see what goes on in there,’ Jan answered.

‘I suppose it’s meant to feel scary,’ Lottie said reassuringly. ‘’That’s the idea!’

‘Girls, please pay attention,’ he called. ‘This is the fun part of the tour. It’s a sort of ride, but to make it more realistic, we are going to show you exactly how we prepare the girls on a real meat run, so please watch our expert here while he demonstrates the procedure.’ The girls cheered and clapped encouragingly.

With the crowd of girls in front of her, Lottie couldn’t see what was happening until it was Patricia’s turn.

‘Turn around and place your wrists behind you, one crossed over the other!’ He told Patricia.

‘Now watch this carefully,’ he told Lottie. ‘It takes a lot of practice to do this properly.’ Deftly he bound her wrists, with a curious looking metal hook curving down and then up towards her bottom. The tip of the hook was like a slightly flattened ball.

‘Right, Miss,’ he said. ‘Now arch your back for me, as far as you can.’

Patricia arched her back, and felt him tug her wrists down a little more. He moved the ball ended hook into position and gave it a firm tug. The ball disappeared into Patricia’s bottom. She was never going to release herself from that hook without a lot of help, Lottie decided. But he hadn’t finished.

‘Open your mouth wide,’ he told her. He popped a large rubber ball into her mouth and secured it with a strap behind her neck.

And then it was Lottie’s turn. She was feeling a bit uncomfortable about all this. It all seemed to be heading in a very scary direction, but she wasn’t going to be difficult. She stood obediently, arched her back once her wrists were bound and felt the ball of the hook pressing into her bottom. It was much too big, she thought.

‘Relax, Miss,’ he said. ‘Don’t fight it.’

Her heart pounded expectantly. Even though she expected it, it came as a shock when he gave the hook a sudden, firm tug and the ball popped right into her. She fought her bonds tentatively, but there was no way that hook was coming out. It pulled her wrists down as far as they would go. Then the rubber tasting ball filled her mouth, and he tightened the strap. She hardly noticed him doing Jan. She was too busy struggling. It was an interesting feeling, she decided, but she couldn’t work out the purpose of it. There had to be a reason for preparing girls like this.

Soon he reached the end of the line.

‘Well done, girls,’ the guide told them. ‘Now you know exactly how you would feel if you were really going to be processed. Next we are going to show you the part of the process we call the Butchering Line. I’m sure you’ll all find it interesting.’

Strangely, none of the girls argued. It was quite a change to have their usual chatter silenced, Amy thought!

The guide was addressing them again.

‘This is the fun part, girls,’ he told them. ‘When you get to the front, sit here with your feet through the flap.’

Lottie watched the girls go through, one at a time. She couldn’t work it out. And then it was her turn. She sat on the edge of a kind of box shaped opening with her feet through the flap. She felt loops tighten over both her ankles, and then she was jerked forward. Her back slid down, while her ankles were hooked up to an overhead conveyor. And then she was free of the slide, hanging, upside down.

Lottie realised the purpose of the hook in her bottom. Her wrists were hooked up as securely as her ankles. It was an ominous feeling. If it was true that girls were treated like this on a real production run, she had a sudden, very scary feeling that those girls might not know that they were on the butchering line either, and what that meant was unthinkable. If they were being treated exactly like girls who were being processed, that must mean that they were not there to see girls being processed. They were the girls being processed. It all made sense; the invitation to the school, all this work laid on without charge, everything. It was a trick to get hold of a lot of free meat. She hoped she was wrong, but she had a growing feeling that she was right.

The overhead conveyor moved Lottie on a few feet, through a flap, and then stopped. A few moments later it moved again, and Lottie saw that Jan was right beside her, equally helpless. They were both sideways on to the movement of the conveyor, with other girls ahead of them. They were approaching another flap, and the girls were going through, one by one, each time the conveyor moved again. Lottie lifted her head up to see her body. Her breasts looked so different hanging upside down, she thought. They looked much better the right way up, but she smiled at the way her nipples were sticking out.

At last it was Lottie’s turn to go through the flap. On the other side she saw an attendant vaguely behind her and before she had time to wonder what he was doing, he had drawn a curved, extremely sharp knife across her throat, and her blood was gushing down into a channel. A moment later another butcher slit open her belly and her guts cascaded into the fast flowing stream. There was an extraordinary sensation of emptiness and just a hint of satisfaction because she was right after all. She wondered how they were going to butcher her meat, but she was feeling dizzy and weak and just then, her consciousness faded.

***

Meanwhile, in the other line, Suzy had just gone through the door, and Amy was next. The moment she came through the door an attendant hooked a chain to her pussy ring, and it began to tug her forward by some sort of conveyor under a slot in the floor. With her wrists bound behind her it was impossible to escape, or even resist. Suzy was not far ahead, but they were moving quite slowly, and the chain kept on stopping for a few moments at a time. The most disturbing thing was the screams that came from the general direction they were going in at pretty frequent intervals, interrupted by long silences.

‘Suzy! It’s me!’ She called.

‘Hi Amy! What’s going to happen to us? I’m scared,’ Suzy answered.

‘I don’t know, but I think we’re going to be meat!’ Amy answered.

She looked forward. The chain moved forward again. Her view obscured by Suzy, and distracted by the conversation, Amy had failed to notice where the line ended. She moved forward to give herself a little slack on the chain, and then stepped sideways so she could see better round the line of girls.

The machine at the head of the line was a monster. It was mounted on a platform raised off the floor. On the left was a curved metallic block, and one of the girls was kneeling over it, facing to the left. She was wearing a helmet, and that was where the screaming was coming from, Amy decided. She was still not quite certain what was going on until she distinctly saw the point of a spit emerging from the girl’s mouth. Ouch! Amy thought. She had finally realised what was going on. The spitted girl moved up from the machine and onto an overhead conveyor, and then the line moved forward again.

Amy watched carefully. This time she recognised the girl who was kneeling over the block. Her name was Sheila and her breasts were unmistakeable! Amy could not see every detail of how she was secured, but her waist and neck were strapped down, and obviously she was totally helpless. The girl gasped, then suddenly she let out a piercing scream, then another, and another until her screams merged into a continuous shriek.

‘I think she’s having orgasms!’ Amy yelled above the noise.

‘Gosh!’ Suzy answered. ‘I’ve never had orgasms like that!’

‘You haven’t been spitted before either, but you’re going to be, in a minute,’ Amy joked, thinking of that medical convention, and the likelihood that she would shortly be seeing the barbecue area the guide had mentioned from an unexpected viewpoint. Obviously the cheerleaders were going to have pride of place at that particular feast!

Suzy sighed. This was not at all how she had imagined it happening. Maybe there were a few too many angels and trumpets around her own heavily embellished but imaginary spitting machine. There certainly weren’t orgasms like that!

A few seconds later Sheila’s screams were interrupted as the point of a spit emerged from her mouth, and a moment after that she was also on her way up from the machine to the overhead conveyor.

Amy counted. After Sheila there was Debbie, then Fran, Suzy and her. She trembled. This was all happening much too fast. At this rate it would be her turn in under ten minutes, but the pace of it all was exciting too. It didn’t give you a lot of time to think, and why should it? Roasted meat didn’t need to think, after all.

Debbie was mounting the block. It looked as though the chain was pulling her down onto her knees by her pussy. That made sense, Amy decided. The rest of the clamps and straps were obviously automatic, because there were no attendants around the machine, or anywhere near it for that matter.

She wondered if Debbie would orgasm as quickly as Sheila. She gave a loud gasp, then moments later she began to scream. Incredible, Amy thought. Three different girls and they all orgasmed just as quickly. She couldn’t imagine anything bringing her to an orgasm as quickly as that, and neither could Suzy.

As Debbie’s wriggling body moved away on its spit, it was Fran’s turn. Amy was growing apprehensive, as there was only Suzy in front of her and it was heart-thumpingly scary that every single girl was brought to unheard of heights of screaming ecstasy in such a short time. It didn’t seem possible, but it was happening, right in front of her, and in a very few moments it was going to be her turn to be spitted and carried away for roasting. At least she had always dreamed of being a spitroast.

With Fran on the machine, for the first time Suzy had a chance to take a good look at it.

‘Hey Amy, I can see it now. It’s beautiful, lovely and smooth, and it looks so comfortable. I’m going to fit on it perfectly. It’s much prettier than anything I imagined, and it’s making Fran come like mad!’

Trust Suzy to ignore the slight practical issue of the purpose and function of that seductive looking machine, Amy thought. All Suzy ever cared about was the look and feel of things. Maybe that was not such a bad idea, she reflected. It didn’t do to think too hard about what a machine like that was going to do to you. Suzy was right. It was only going to happen to a girl once, and she might as well at least try to enjoy it.

All the same, it was pretty scary to see one girl after another screaming blue murder, watch her being impaled on a giant meat skewer and carried away, and know your turn was getting closer and closer. Amy had always had her practical side. Lots of times she had kept Suzy out of trouble, but not this time.

It was Fran’s turn to scream in ecstasy as the machine brought her to one orgasm after another. Amy had a very close view of her contortions as the spit went into her pussy, through her perfectly aligned body and out of her mouth, and seconds later the machine was free again as Fran’s wriggling body was lifted up onto the conveyor. There was only Suzy to go now. Amy felt an explosion of pleasure coming. She couldn’t help it. She could count the seconds until she would be following Fran to her very own roasting pit. It was all so horribly predictable. It did things to you, and you just orgasmed like mad, exactly to the second when it wanted you to.

Amy’s heart pounded as Suzy was dragged towards the machine. The chain tugged her down onto her knees, which slipped apart into deep grooves in front of the machine, clamps secured her ankles and the chain released. More clamps gripped her thighs and a strap tightened over her waist. Another strap tightened over her neck and her chin was tipped up, Amy could easily imagine why. She was fascinated but speechless as she watched Suzy’s ineffectual struggles.

A helmet lowered onto Suzy’s head and she began to squirm violently.

‘Amy!’ She gasped. ‘I’m going to come. It’s fantastic! Oooooh! Yeeeeee!’

Suzy’s involuntary yells rapidly changed into a loud scream that just went on and on, and then Amy saw the spit. It was awesome. Immediately she felt that wetness between her legs, and a tingly feeling like an unrelieved itch. She had an unaccountable urge to feel a spit like that right through her body.

The spit parted Suzy’s lips and stretched her pussy open, but it didn’t stop there. It’s amazing what a complex creature a girl is, Amy thought, but it all comes down to this.

The shaft slid easily forward into Suzy’s cunt and it just went on and on until it came out of Suzy’s mouth and Suzy was still wriggling as her spit rose up onto the overhead conveyor and it was her turn and the chain was tugging her forward and Amy couldn’t help it, the chain was tugging her down and her knees fitted neatly into the grooves and she was totally breathless. She felt something snip the ring through her pussy lip as the strap tightened over her neck and forced her chin up into position.

She tugged uselessly at the bindings on her wrists. This is it! She thought, as the helmet lowered onto her head. There was an odd prickly sensation. A moment later she gasped as something touched her pussy. Suddenly there were a lot of things stroking her lips and vibrating gently, little rods teasing her slit, and then things seemed just to go into a different gear and explosions of pleasure flashed through her body and she screamed as the orgasm convulsed her but it didn’t stop and she scarcely felt the nipple injectors as cool liquid filled her breasts and every cell in her body was repeating those sweet explosions.

The moment when the Neurostim withdrew was inseparable from the feel of the cool hard point of the spit between her lips. Instinctively she clenched her powerful vulva muscles but it parted them easily as it thrust smoothly, easily into her. Her cunt was so sensitive that the slightest touch of the sliding shaft brought her to another powerful orgasm. So that’s how it feels, she thought in an extraordinary moment of clarity, and then she saw the point emerging from her open mouth. Oh my God! She thought. This is it! I’m actually spitted! But it was impossible to breathe. She felt a prick in the front of her throat and suddenly she could breathe again. A moment later she was rising on the conveyor, her legs banded tightly to the spit, with a hook inserted into her bottom hole. The conveyor took her out through the back of the building to a row of barbecue pits next to what looked like a picnic area, with wooden tables and chairs, and a car park behind.

Amy ignored the pain, exploring the unfamiliar sensation of being mounted on a rigid shaft that ran right through the middle of her body. She squirmed experimentally, and soon discovered that she could move up and down a little on the shaft, but she couldn’t bend at all and the hook in her bottomhole would prevent the spit from slipping around inside her while she roasted. They had thought of everything, she reflected as another orgasm shook her helplessly immobilised body.

The waves of pleasure were still making her gasp when heat rose beneath her. It grew hotter and hotter as they lowered her over the flames of a barbecue pit. As she turned she saw Suzy on the next pit. She made a fabulous looking spitroast, Amy decided. Maybe I look fabulous too, she thought. I probably do. Just like a cheerleader, she thought! We always hog the attention!

*****

End of Chapter 1

The Bootleg Wars

? Spitman, 2006

Chapter 2

Meanwhile Tania had followed Jack up onto the management walkway, and they watched the first of the girls coming through. On the far side of the building she could see the butchering line, moving from left to right, with flaps separating the sections, so the meat couldn’t see what was going to happen to it next. She wondered if those girls arrived at the plant knowing that they were going to be processed. It was all a bit squirmy, especially the part where they were gutted.

‘What do you think?’ Jack asked in a friendly tone.

‘Very impressive,’ she answered. ‘You don’t seem to have any trouble in controlling the girls.’

‘That’s right,’ Jack told her. ‘It’s a system we’ve been using for years.’

‘Do they know they’re going to be processed when they arrive?’ She asked.

‘Oh no!’ He answered. ‘They all think they are just getting a sponsored tour.’

Like I am, Tania reflected. I’d better watch this; anything could happen in a place like this, and they’d never get to me in time from outside.

‘Where do the girls come from?’ She asked.

‘Mostly schools,’ he told her. ‘We give generous support when they need sporting and exercise equipment, and the teachers let us know when there’s a particularly promising batch about to graduate. Then all it takes is a quiet word with the health and fitness staff at the school to get them prepared. The girls are at that age when everything seems sexy and exciting, and we never have any trouble.’

No, Tania thought. I bet you don’t. She remembered her own graduation. She’d have signed up for a tour even if she knew she was going to be roasted, or even butchered. Graduating as a meatgirl was so new and exciting that most girls would rather be spitted than fucked.

‘Are there enough schools around here,’ she asked curiously.

‘No, we can bring girls in from anywhere that takes up to a three hour bus trip. That’s a pretty good sized catchment area,’ he told her. ‘A lot of states are smaller than that.’

‘That’s true, but you are pretty close to a few state lines here. Is it a problem to bring the girls across a State Line?’ She asked.

‘Not if you have the right paperwork,’ he told her. ‘These are always official school trips across State Lines and the girls often have school staff with them.’

‘What happens to the staff?’ She asked.

‘Oh, we usually get them to bring up the rear of the party. That way, if one of the girls is difficult, they can usually persuade them to stay in line.’

‘I see,’ Tania answered.

‘Now if you come along here, there’s an excellent view of the new Jessica machine. It’s amazingly quick, but I expect you’ve seen them before,’ Jack offered.

‘Yes, they are coming in to some of our plants, but I can never keep up with all the different models,’ she said as she followed him to the right along the walkway.

‘That’s true,’ Jack answered with a smile, ‘but the one we have here is the best yet. At full speed it can do up to 20 girls per hour.’

‘Wow, that’s fast,’ Tania said.

‘This is a fast business,’ he told her. ‘Anyway, there’s a girl just about to be processed. Take a look.’ He stopped, and Tania looked down. He was right. It was a breathtaking angle to see a spitting from.

She watched the girl being tugged into position, and her own slit was soon wet in sympathy with the girl’s struggles as she was secured to the machine. It was not the time she had seen a neural feedback system like that, but she didn’t remember seeing one in operation. Her mouth dropped open as the girl was brought to a series of screaming orgasms in under a minute. Then the spit ran steadily, smoothly through her, and in less than three minutes the spitted girl was up on the conveyor and heading for a barbecue pit.

‘You see,’ he told her. ‘That’s efficiency!’

‘Oh, it is,’ she agreed. Her own clitoris was itching like mad. ‘Why do you bother with a conveyor chain?’ She asked. ‘Isn’t it easier to bring the girls out one at a time, and have the attendants fix them in place?

‘That’s a good point,’ he answered. ‘We need to keep the staffing down. That’s not just to control our costs. The more staff we have, the more chance of somebody leaking our location.’

‘I’m sure I’ve seen a Jessica that doesn’t need any attention at all. The girl just gets up on it, and it does everything,’ she told him. Most girls would be fighting to go first, on a machine like that,’ she suggested.

‘Our problem is the way we operate. We don’t have access to a steady stream of girls from regular sources like the lottery. Those girls know why they are going to the plant, and it’s all legal and regulated, so they know there’s no point in fighting it. The plant operator can just put a Jessica machine on the floor and the girls will line up to use it, just like you said. They will even line up for a guillotine, a butchering line, whatever you like. In the end it’s all completely consensual, except the part where they get selected and told to report in.’

‘Sure, that’s the way it usually works in the public plants.’

‘If we had a group of girls on what they thought was a tour, and we told them to line up to be spitted, we’d have no end of problems. The way that Jessica’s set up, the whole thing is completely automatic, from the moment their pussies are hooked to that chain. It doesn’t really matter what they think after that. All they are is a constant supply of meat for the barbecue. As for the butchering line, these girls have only just graduated, and most of them have never thought about being butchered. The way we do it, they don’t even suspect what’s happening until their throats are slit. It’s a very humane system, Miss Davenport.’

‘I do see what you mean,’ she told him. She almost meant it.

‘All the same, we do occasionally have a need for a different kind of equipment, mainly to entertain the visitors while they wait to be served in the barbecue area.’

‘Oh really? What kind is it?’

‘It’s much the same as the Jessica you see down there, without the chain rigged up to it. Instead of leaving the girls with their wrists bound during the spitting, they can simply climb on, press themselves into the clamps and the machine starts up automatically. It can be programmed to do everything a lot more slowly for the benefit of the spectators, as well as the girls themselves. We leave it out in the barbecue area on standby in case a customer brings a girl along to roast. It has an automatic spitroast detector, so it can deliver the spitted meat to an unoccupied barbecue pit.’

‘That sounds like my kind of machine,’ Tania told him excitedly. ’I’d love to see that in action.’ Did I really say that? Damn, she thought. That was a dangerous slip, even if she did really mean it. That guy did not need to be given any wrong ideas.

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ Jack answered with a smile. ‘Now if you come with me I’ll show you the packing plant, unless you’d like a closer look at anything down there.’

‘There is one thing. I’d like to see how you prepare the girls at the beginning of the butchering line.’

‘Fine, we can go back down the way we came. I’ll show you the way. I’m not quite sure if we still have girls waiting, but I’ll see what I can do.’

He led Tania down the stairs, where she deposited the hard hat, and back through into the reception area.

‘Mary!’ He called.

‘Yes Sir,’ Mary answered breathlessly.

‘Do we still have a girl or two waiting for the butchering line?’

‘I think so,’ she told him. ‘There should be at least six waiting to go through. It was a big batch.’

‘’The great advantage of butchering,’ he told Tania confidentially, ‘is that there’s always better demand for packaged meat, and we can keep a stock in coolers for months if we need to, so we can process stock when it arrives at the plant. It takes organisation to shift a large batch of spitroasts. That’s why we use conventions.’

‘I see,’ she said.

‘Right, follow me. With luck we’ll be in time,’ he said as he strode off through the changing room.

Up the stairs, sure enough there were a few girls still waiting to go down the chute.

‘Is Mel along there,’ he yelled.

‘Right here,’ he answered.

‘Mel, can you come down here for a moment, please!’

Mel duly appeared, a collection of ropes and hooks still attached to his belt.

‘Will you show Miss Davenport how you prepare the young ladies?’ He asked.

‘Sure!’

‘Miss,’ he told her, ‘Please turn and cross your wrists behind your back, and I’ll give you a demonstration.’

Tania duly did as he asked, surprised at how quickly and tightly he secured her wrists. When he asked her to arch her back and tugged the ball ended hook up into her bottom she was even more surprised, but that was not the end of the surprises. She really did not expect to be so efficiently gagged. She could see Jack’s point immediately. It was really quite easy to persuade a girl to be prepped, especially when you had staff like Mel who knew what they were doing.

The only problem was that now she was prepped, what was he going to do with her, she wondered. There was nothing she could do about it, nothing at all. She couldn’t even give the boys in the van her Getout phrase.

‘I think that answers your question,’ Jack told her with a grin. ‘Now there’s just one more thing.’

He led her to the box-like chute and sat her on the edge. She felt loops gripping her ankles. Suddenly there was a tug and she was slipping, and then she found herself suspended exactly like the other girls on the butchering line. It felt fantastic, except that she knew what was coming if she got as far as that guy who cut the girls’ throats. She tugged at the her wrists and felt the hook digging into her bottom. This really works, she told herself. Even the ball gag was a nice touch. On the Jessica line the screaming didn’t matter, but on the butchering line you needed to keep a girl quiet while you slit her throat, or the others would know what was coming.

She trembled with fear. She had never been so scared. They could easily dispose of her this way, splitting her parts into different deliveries. Damn, she thought as the conveyor moved steadily forward. One of those flaps was just ahead, and it was probably the one where she’d get bled out. What a way to go, she thought.

‘Ah, here you are,’ Jack told her. ‘I thought I’d let you enjoy the atmosphere for a few moments.’

Mel helped him to unhook her from the conveyor, and removed her gag.

’Phew!’ She told him. ‘I thought I was meat, just then.’

Jack grinned. ‘I’ve got news for you, Miss Davenport’ he told her. ‘You are meat, and you know it. In fact I’ve never met a woman who knew it any better than you do. You seem to know a lot about processing plants, but what you really know about is being a very dedicated meatgirl. Your quality grades are proof of that. It would be a total waste to have you butchered, don’t you think?’

‘Y - yes, Jack,’ she said, visibly disturbed by how close it had come. ‘And anyway, that’s not why I’m here.’

‘No, of course it isn’t,’ he told her consolingly. ‘However, I think I did answer your question!’

‘Yes, you certainly did,’ she told him. ‘Thank you.’

It was a relief when Mel bent her backward, and tugged the hook free from her bottom with a practised jerk. Her wrists were next, and then the loops that had tightened over her ankles.

‘Now do you have any more questions?’ He asked, with a broad grin.

‘Not if I get answers like that,’ Tania chuckled. ‘I have work to do when I get back to the office.’ That part was absolutely true, she thought with some amusement. It was just a rather different kind of office.

She thought for a moment. ‘I would like to see the barbecue area though, You must have? several spitroasts over the pits by now. I’d like to see how you take care of them.’

‘Fine, Miss Davenport,’ he told her. ‘The nearest way out is over here. Are you sure you don’t want to see the meat packing section? It’s in the next building. The carcases are finished in that part of the plant.’

And I nearly was too, she thought, suddenly anxious to get away from anything involving butchering.

‘No, thank you,’ she told him, trying to sound unaffected by the experience.

Jack took her by several barbecue pits. She didn’t know it, but she patted Amy’s bottom as she passed by.

‘That is a beautiful roast, Jack, don’t you think?’

‘These girls are all fresh young cheerleaders. They only graduated two months ago. I’ve got the whole class roasting for the convention dinner.’

Tania was watching Amy turn, fascinated by her fabulous curves, and enjoying her mouthwatering aroma.

‘All the same, this one is really something,’ she told him. She was sure the girl had winked at her, obviously pleased by the compliment. And was that a twitch of her cunt on the spit? You never could tell. Contractions like that were normal when girlmeat was roasting.

‘Come and let me show you the display Jessica,’ he suggested.

‘Yes, please!’ She replied.

On a platform surrounded by tables was the most beautiful Jessica machine she had ever seen. The smooth seductive looking block was fitted with grooves for a girl’s arms and legs, with what looked like automatic clamps. Seeing the awesome tip of a spit projecting from the spitting motor, her slit was suddenly wet with her juices. She could well understand a girl wanting to hug that comfortable looking block. In fact she felt a strong compulsion to do so.

‘Er, do you think I could see how it feels, just for a moment,’ she asked.

‘Sure, go ahead,’ he told her. ‘I suppose you know how the clamps work?’

‘Maybe you’d better tell me.’

‘Well, you get in position, with your arms and legs in all those grooves designed to fit a girl comfortably, and your chin up on that rest. Then all you do is press your wrists, or even one of your wrists a little harder into the clamp. A millisecond later all the clamps snap shut, the machine starts and you finish up roasting over a barbecue pit.’

'How long does it take? Did you say it takes longer?'

'Well, actually the way this one is set up right now, there will be a longer pause at the beginning, but then it will go at much the same speed. It can be set to double or treble the duration of the neurostim. That would reduce the throughput to between twelve and fifteen girls per hour. We can also set it for multiple periods of Neurostim with pauses in between. That way we can keep a girl up there for ten or fifteen minutes if we really want to. Right now, it's ready to go. All it needs is a girl, and it will get to work.'

‘So I can see what it feels like to be ready with all of me in all the grooves, ready to clamp, and as long as I don’t press one of my wrists into the clamp, nothing will happen?’

‘That’s right,’ Jack told her, with a broad grin. ‘You’d be surprised how many girls do lock themselves onto it, though.’

‘Can’t you stop the machine if it’s a mistake?’ She asked.

‘That’s exactly the point. A girl has to be in contact with those clamps at nine separate points before she can activate them. According to the machine’s designers, it’s mathematically impossible to do that by mistake. There is no other industrial machine with so much built-in safety.’

‘That still sounds like a trick to me,’ she said. ‘That machine is only out there to trap girls. It really has only one trigger, not nine, it’s a hair trigger, and they’ve made it easy for a girl to press it by accident.’

‘Well, you could look at it that way,’ Jack admitted grudgingly.

‘If it’s designed so it only feels comfortable when a girl is in the right position to trigger the machine, of course she’s going to get into that position. I would want to do that myself,’ she confided.

‘I suppose the designers just wanted to make it easy for the girls.’

‘But not too easy!’ Tania’s heart was going fast again.

‘I’m not suggesting that it takes nine separate decisions to activate the machine. It probably takes only three; one to get on the machine in the first place, one to position yourself in the clamps, and one to lock them and start the machine. That last one fools a lot of girls. They think it’s not the same to lock the clamps and start the machine. Unfortunately, locking the clamps does start the machine, so it really is only one decision.’

‘I agree with the last part,’ she admitted.

‘The other psychological factor is that girls love to take a risk. The more risky it is, the more they like it. So if you are on that machine, subconsciously you want to press your wrist into the clamp just a little, and then a little bit more, daring yourself to go as far as you can without activating the machine. Unfortunately there is no way to know if you can go a little further or not, without triggering the machine. You will only know that you have gone too far when the clamps really do lock, and then there is no escape.’

Tania knew that he was right. Oh, so terribly right. That was exactly what girls did. She could see herself doing exactly what he had described. It was utterly insidious. It was like being bound spreadeagled within reach of a hungry but sleeping tiger. You wouldn’t dare to move a muscle or make a sound, but you would know that it’s impossible not to do one or the other for very long.

That terrible but beautiful machine waited, dormant, ready to be awakened and when a girl came along she was naturally drawn to it. First she would want to feel how it fitted her shape, and then she would want to imagine herself helplessly clamped, and wriggle herself into position. The machine had infinite patience. The longer you stayed like that, the more tempting it would be to just press one of your wrists quickly into its clamp and get it over with. Tania could see that almost any girl would do it, sooner or later.

All the same, she knew that he had missed a more important issue. The really big decision is to climb onto the machine in the first place. That exposes all of your female vulnerability, mental and physical. You might slip or fall, and accidentally activate the machine. Somebody might come along while you’re on the machine and press one of your wrists into its clamp unexpectedly. A distraction could make you flinch or jerk and activate the clamps. Whatever happens, or doesn’t happen, it always comes down to that first decision.

‘It doesn’t always seem that complicated though. Sometimes there’s a thing that a girl absolutely has to do.’

‘Like getting on to that machine?’ he laughed.

‘Dammit, Jack, I’d really love to see how it feels. It looks fantastic.’

‘Well, if you want to, go ahead. You don’t need a booking!’

Tania laughed as she approached the machine. It was a very pretty looking piece of machinery, with a sexy looking spit peeping out from the motor section. She touched it tentatively. It felt awesome. She closed her fingers around the tip. It was easy to imagine a spit like that in her pussy.

She had watched enough girls being spitted to know what to do, but the machine’s design made it easy for her. She stepped over the machine and knelt down in the widely separated grooves, moving slightly into the most comfortable position, with her ankles and knees resting on the curved surfaces of two pairs of clamps.

Next she leaned forward over the smooth metal block. Her thighs pressed into more of those grooves, and her neck fitted into another, with her chin raised on a curved rest that was obviously the inside of another clamp. The position threw her buttocks upward, and she was conscious of the exposure of her pussy. Her slit was an open invitation to the spit, she thought, with her body aligned so perfectly on the block. It only remained for her to lock those clamps and she would feel it inside her. It was shockingly tempting.

Her breasts hung comfortably down through circular cutouts in the block. Carefully she lowered her arms into the grooves that ran down from her shoulders to the base of the machine, feeling the inside curves of the clamps against her upper arms. Her wrists were perfectly positioned in the lower clamps, but she was careful to feel them with just one wrist at a time. There was something about it that didn’t quite feel right. A girl on a Jessica machine ought to feel totally secured and helpless. She wanted to feel restrained, firmly held in position for the spit to run. It came as a powerful urge.

‘How does it feel, Miss Davenport?’ He asked solicitously.

‘Damn, I’m just getting the feel of it, but it’s amazing,’ she told him. ‘It fits me so perfectly.’

Jack grinned. They always said something like that.

‘I feel as if I belong here, like this.’

‘Actually you do,’ he suggested. ‘You will probably be spitted on one of these one day, if you are lucky.’

‘I know,’ she admitted. He was right that it would be lucky. There were so many old designs around, and you never knew where you might be processed. They might even use the old patented classical Jessica. As she had seen in the processing part of the plant, there were even variants of the Jessica on the same site.

He watched her shift gently to enjoy the contours of the smooth metal that fitted her so perfectly.

A few doctors began to arrive, wearing convention name tags. Jack knew that a bus must have arrived.

A couple of them strolled over.

‘What model is that?’ One of them asked.

‘It’s a Jessica NF06 automatic, neural feedback controlled automatic spitting machine, Sir.’ Jack told him’

‘Any chance of a demonstration?’ The other one asked.

‘Just give me a minute,’ Jack replied. ‘What do you say, young lady? Are you going to put on a dance for those nice gentlemen?’ It was delicious to say those words and watch the girl squirm. Maybe she needed a little bit of help to make up her mind, he decided.

There were no words for what Tania felt like saying. The position seemed so absolutely right, and spitting was what girls were for, weren’t they, even if sometimes, like earlier on that butchering line, it all got rather scary. It was certainly a very clever system Jack’s company had going. They had conned schools, teachers, schoolgirls and even parts of the legislature. FARMS would have most of the evidence recorded in the van. They only needed to find out who financed the operation, and the distribution network for the bootleg meat, but all that seemed inconsequential in her present position.

‘Er, this is very nice, but I don’t think so,’ she told him.

‘It would really help if you did, my dear. I won’t get another stock delivery for over an hour.’

Tania was damned if she was going to be spitted for a silly reason like that, but she was perfectly happy to stay on the machine for a while. It felt wonderful to fit so smoothly in the grooves of the clamps.

For a moment she had lost sight of Jack. She wondered what he was doing.

‘Sssssssssnicccck! Pain streaked across her buttocks and she screamed with shock, jerking instinctively. Her wrists jammed in the clamps and they locked. A moment later she was totally helpless with tight straps over her waist and neck, and her body perfectly aligned for the spit from pussy to mouth. It was awful, terrible. She knew she had always wanted it, but she had never dared to go through with it.

‘Damn you, Jack!’ She protested, as his whip left another line of fire across her buttocks.

‘You girls are all the same. You can’t wait to be roasted.’

'That’s not true, and it isn’t fair,’ she argued.

‘You are the one who wanted to try the machine. I only helped you a little,’ he said. ‘But don’t let me distract you any more, if you don’t want me to.’

‘That wasn’t what I meant,’ Tania said.

‘Ah, you want more distraction? All right then!’

‘Craaaackkk!’ She jerked wildly, gasping, as he whipped her bottom. The fire grew in her pussy and she exploded in a convulsion of pleasure. Why did the most severe pain do that to a girl?

‘No! Stop! I can’t stand it! Please, Jack!’ She pleaded.

‘Not until you apologise!’

‘Apologise? You are the one who ought to apologise,’ she gasped. ‘This thing is going to spit me now.’

‘Sssssshhhhhhickkkkkkk!

‘Oooooh, don’t do that! Please, not any more!’

‘Apologise then!’

‘Damn you, all right then, I apologise.’

Jack laughed as he put down the whip. She had spirit all right. She was going to need it in just a few moments, but it was a pity he couldn’t have had longer with her. She was an interesting girl.

Tania fought and struggled, wriggled, pulled and pushed against those irritatingly firm clamps. She knew it was useless, but trying was part of the game. It helped you to feel that the machine was totally in control. It was damnable exciting. Her bottom was burning after the whipping, but that was not going to matter when she was roasting, she thought.

A helmet dropped over Tania’s head, and something touched her pussy lips, straying into her slit. Every fold of her pussy was slippery with her juices. She gasped as the touch became lots of separate touches, some gently vibrating, others touching her slippery flesh with different textures, some like feelers that flicked and dipped into her vulva, and others that stroked and brushed the sensitive hood of her clitoris.

She felt an orgasm coming, pleasure exploded through her pussy, then she felt the pleasure intensifying as the neural feedback monitored the pleasure response in her brain and adjusted the stimulation to increase it. Suddenly the pleasure was more than she could stand, it was going to explode from her sweet core and it just grew and grew, her whole body shaking in an uncontrollable orgasm, it grew stronger still and she screamed in ecstasy, unbelievably it continued unabated and she screamed and screamed and screamed.

The doctors were watching with their mouths open.

‘Damn, that machine’s good,’ one of them said. ‘How does it work?’

‘It picks up the pleasure signals in the brain and learns to increase them,’ Jack told them. ‘It’s really just an iterative program. The longer it runs, the better it gets, and the more pleasure she feels, the better it works. There’s nothing a girl can do about it. In about twenty seconds it will have any girl screaming. That’s just a natural response to a pleasure overload.’

‘Wow, that’s great. When will it spit her?’

‘Any moment now, when she reaches the maximum pleasure intensity.’

Tania was immersed in unbelievable sensation. Pleasure exploded through her body like fireworks, and it didn’t let up. She was scarcely aware of the pricks at her nipples and the cool liquid filling her breasts. She convulsed again, her whole body spasming as pleasure exploded through her and she screamed again.

A moment later the Neurostim and its tools retracted. She felt the first touch of something cool and hard between her lips as it slid smoothly, excitingly forward. It opened her vulva and pressed deeper. Now her vulva was stretched around it and the shaft made her pussy tingle as it slid smoothly through her cunt. It was in her belly, then her stomach and a moment later it emerged from her mouth. She wriggled and fought but she could barely move at all, and then she felt the stabiliser hook with its balled end pushing into her bottomhole. She was desperate to breathe, but the spit filled her throat. She felt a sharp pain in her throat, and suddenly she was able to gasp for breath.

Damn, she thought. So this is what it’s like. The whole idea of being spitted was utterly intoxicating. The spit was a thick, hard, inflexible spine that stiffened her whole body. Everything that felt soft and flexible before had become rigidly attached to it. From her tongue to her tautly stretched vulva, it possessed her. She could barely move, and with that hook in her bottom, she couldn’t even turn on it. All Tania could do was wriggle and enjoy the exciting feel of her cunt muscles contracting in spasms on the smooth slippery shaft.

‘My God, did you see that?’ the doctor asked.

‘I’ve never seen a girl spitted like that from quite so close,’ the other one said.

‘Look how she’s wriggling. Do you think she likes it?’ He asked Jack.

‘Of course. They all love it. They get lots of pleasure, and after all, it’s what they’re bred for,’ Jack answered. ‘Ultimately, the good looking ones make a great spitroast, and we have a whole cheerleading team roasting for you today. They only graduated as meatgirls two months ago. I can assure you, the meat will be superb.’

‘What about her? Surely she’s not a cheerleader?’

‘Oh no, she was just a visitor on business at the plant, but she looks pretty good on a spit!’

That was hardly a consolation to Tania, who was having another powerful orgasm, while the machine tied her arms to her body, and her legs to the spit.

‘Yes she does, and I must thank you for the demonstration, Mister . . .’

‘Call me Jack.’

‘I enjoyed it,’ the other one added. ‘It’s always great to watch the spit going through them like that

Thanks a lot, Tania thought. Now I’m just the same as any other girl. It was shocking to realise how true that was, once a girl was reduced to roasting meat on a spit. Why would they think any different!

‘It was really interesting,’ the other one added. ‘Especially that stuff about neural feedback.’

I’ll give him neural feedback, Tania thought, as she fought the added confinement of those final bonds.

‘I’ll see that you both get a portion, once she’s roasted,’ Jack told them. ‘It’s great to have guests who take an interest in what we do here. If there’s anything more I can do for you, just ask.’

‘There is one thing,’ he asked. ‘If she was a visitor on business, how did she finish up on this machine?’

Tania felt the conveyor jerk into motion. There was a lot she wanted to say to Jack, but with a spit through her mouth, that was not going to be possible. Waves of pleasure still coarsed through her, and between orgasms she had to admit that it was a fantastic machine, and it was worth the ride, even if Jack had tricked her. Or was it the other way round? Why had she finished up on the machine? It hardly mattered now.

Jack gave her bottom a final pat as it lifted her off the Jessica machine. ‘I’ve enjoyed your company, Miss Davenport,’ he told her. ‘The next part of your tour is at the barbecue pits, where you are going to learn everything you need to know about roasting. I can’t let you miss that!’

She looked murderously at him, but inside she was laughing. What he said was perfectly true. She had already seen the barbecue pits, but she had not quite planned to see them from this particular angle! The conveyor carried her up, high above the tables, and then across towards the row of barbecue pits.

Jack turned to answer the doctor.

?‘She asked if she could try it,’ he told them.

They both laughed. ‘And of course, you couldn’t say no!’

‘Of course not. I can always use another spitroast, especially with all you doctors here this afternoon.’

‘Still, when we arrived, it didn’t look as though she was expecting what you did to her!’

‘I just thought I’d help her a little,’ Jack admitted.

?‘I saw that,’ the first doctor said with a laugh. ‘I’d say that you helped her a lot!

‘It was only a matter of timing,’ Jack told him. ‘I could have left her there, and within half an hour later it’s a safe bet that she’d have ‘accidentally’ triggered the machine anyway. Otherwise she’d never have got on it in the first place. Anyway, I hope you’ll excuse me. I have a lot to do this afternoon.’

‘OK. I’ll see you later.’

‘And thanks again. That’s a fantastic machine you have there.’

‘No problem,’ he replied to the two doctors.

Tania’s spit moved steadily down onto the rests and began to turn. The flames were searing hot. She felt the heat penetrating deep into her flesh, but she knew that the idea was to seal in her juices, before they cooked her slowly for several more hours.

Then she saw the doctors who had been talking to Jack. To her relief, they came across and started basting her. They had very poor staffing at the barbecue pits, she thought. It was a pity that she couldn’t put that in her report. It was a very shoddy way to roast a spitted girl, she thought, but at least she was getting some attention.

*****

Back at the Federal Building Dave was in Bill’s office.

‘So that’s how it went down,’ Dave told him. ‘We picked up the whole thing on the monitors, right up until her device cooked in the heat, but as you know, they’ll never notice anything out of the ordinary. They melt into nothing at that sort of temperature.’

‘I see,’ Bill answered, after a long and thoughtful pause. ‘So you are saying that she actually wanted to be roasted? I find that hard to believe. Tania was a very professional agent.’

‘Yes, she was,’ Dave agreed, ‘and remember, the evidence she collected will go a long way towards cracking the whole bootlegging operation. We know where and how they get the meat, we can follow the meat down the line, and there’s a good chance we can follow the money up as well, as we know there are payments being made to staff at those schools. Nobody can say that she didn’t do her job, but she was also a girl.’

‘That’s the problem,’ Bill told him. ‘We just can’t get replacements like that any more. Most of the kids will jump on a Jessica machine as soon as look at it, but I thought she was different.’

‘I think she was. She was a very special girl, and on those tapes it’s not quite clear if the spitting was entirely consensual. It sounded as though she was just doing her usual thorough job, and it went bad on her.’

‘It was consensual enough for her to have climbed up onto one of those machines.’

‘That’s true, but we don’t know exactly why she did that, or if she triggered the clamps voluntarily. It might have been an accident.’

‘I listened to those tapes too, and I don’t buy that. The guy seemed to think that every girl who gets onto one of those machines is an accident waiting to happen, and it’s only a matter of time before she triggers it.’

‘The trouble is, Bill, that happens to be perfectly true. Most girls wouldn’t even wait that long. If Tania got onto that machine, she definitely liked the idea of it. She’d never have done it otherwise. No court would convict a guy when a girl voluntarily got up onto a machine like that, and he only helped her to start it up. There’s a legal term for it, but the defence would easily convince a court that she meant him to do it.’

‘What about the whip? The guy whipped Tania half to death, by the sound of it.’

‘That’s an exaggeration. She enjoyed it. In fact she loved it. If you listen to the tape again, Jack was going to stop whipping her, and she actually begged him to carry on!’

‘So you are saying that we don’t have a case?’

‘For bootlegging, yes, but for what happened to Tania, no. We are caught both ways. On the one hand, she finished the job, and in her defence it’s not proven that she let it happen voluntarily. On the other hand, it looks as though she might have engineered what happened on the Jessica machine, and that doubt means that we’d never convince a court of law to take any action against Jack for what he did to her.

‘And after that?’

‘All the evidence suggests that she thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Maybe it was what she wanted, but we’ll never know that. I think her only regret would be that we weren’t all there to enjoy her meat.’

‘I am already regretting that too. She was a very tasty looking piece of . . . .’

‘Actually she’d be wrong, or partly wrong anyway.’

‘You can’t mean?’

‘Yes, when they carved her, I sneaked in and stole several choice pieces for us all to taste, and she turned out pretty good.’

‘I guess she did.’