Foreword

• This is book 3 of 5 of the series "Contributing to Tomorrow"
• You don't have to have read the previous books to enjoy this one
• Book 2 "Private Slaughter" plays during this book
• Here are all the other books https://www.reddit.com/user/Windspirit2025/comments/1sl3zeo/contributing_to_tomorrow_book_series_chapter/

We are following Silvia, whom we met in Book 2 "Private Slaughter" in the chapter "Lisa and Eve"

Chapter 1 - Awakening

Ever since she had watched her mum disappear through the door of the Processing Centre, Silvia had been confused and scared. She had only been eight years old when her mother received her Letter, just two months shy of her twenty-sixth birthday. Bad luck by any standard.

Her dad had tried to explain it gently on the drive back, but the only thing Silvia truly understood was that her mum wasn’t coming home. She’d walked into that cold, grey building without even looking back, leaving Silvia behind in the car.

Silvia had cried for days. Even years later, the memory lingered, and deep down, she carried a nagging guilt that her mother’s departure was somehow her fault. Her dad told her over and over that it wasn’t true, but no matter how often he reassured her, a part of her still believed she had done something wrong.

It wasn’t until she reached puberty and learned about the Lottery in school that Silvia finally understood the truth.

She would never forget that day in class. They had started learning about the history of the Resource Wars, and the Great Dying that ended the wars so suddenly. The Purple Spots: an epidemic that swept across the globe and killed billions. By the time it burned through humanity and it had left it a fraction of its former population alive, the old world had come to a shattering end.

It had been fascinating to learn about the before—a society where people were either desperately poor or obscenely rich. There were still differences today, of course, but nothing like that. She had been horrified by the stories of nomad tent cities. They were swarms of desperate people sweeping across the country, stripping small communities clean and forcing survivors to join their numbers. They wandered like that until the Purple Spots wiped them out.

Her teacher had compared the Purple Spots to another plague from ancient history: the Black Death. That plague had taken five years to crawl across Europe, wiping out entire towns and villages. But when the Great Dying came, it came on wings, not on horseback. The world had been so interconnected that the disease reached the remotest corners in just four days.

After the Great Dying, the old world and its rules couldn’t be recovered. Governments collapsed, borders disappeared entirely. With the global population dropping so dramatically, the survivors had no choice but to come together in new ways. Slowly and painfully, they rebuilt. A new world emerged—one that wasn’t perfect, but alive.

But after the rebuild, resources were slim; most of the easily accessible resources had been stripped away by humanity in the last century of unrestricted growth. The remaining population struggled with the limits of their usable technology just to access what was left. The only way for humanity to survive was to mange population growth.

And then came the part Silvia wasn’t ready for. The teacher explained how humanity had solved its problems with population growth and resource scarcity in the aftermath of the Resource Wars and the Great Dying by introducing the Lottery.

Silvia had always known about the Lottery. People were selected at random, and they went away. She even suspected that her mother had been one, but she never asked her father. She was afraid he would tell her it had been her fault. She knew he was holding back something.

Of course, she knew about Girl meat. How could she not? She’d eaten it. She liked the shank cuts best, though they didn’t have them often because they were expensive. Girl sausage was more affordable, and she liked it. Her father loved Ass, and she remembered the one time they’d had Tits; they had been on special. She knew Girl meat was made from women, but somehow, she had never connected Girl meat to the Lottery and the Lottery to women like her mother.

She still couldn’t understand how she hadn’t realised what it really meant before that day. Somehow, it had never clicked. But sitting in that classroom, it finally did.

It hit her like a physical punch in the stomach. One moment, the teacher was talking about the Lottery and the Processing Centres, and the next, Silvia was running out of class. She didn’t make it to the toilets; she just vomited in some corner outside.

She held herself upright against the wall, trying to process. Her mother hadn’t left because of her, she had lost the Lottery, and she had been slaughtered, her body processed, and her pieces sold in a supermarket. As Girl meat. They’d had Girl shank two days later.

That thought made her vomit violently again and dry heave until she was sitting on the floor, exhausted, next to what had been her breakfast that morning. Her head spun.

Her teacher called her dad, and he brought her home. He sat her down at the kitchen table, trying to explain everything.

“But it could have been Mother!” Silvia cried out, her voice breaking with desperation.

Her dad shook his head firmly. “No, darling. That’s extremely unlikely. That day, more than a hundred women were slaughtered.”

“But we had Girl shank!”

Her father’s hands went through his hair. She knew he was upset and holding something back. “Silvi. Girl meat can sit for up to a week or more on the shelves.”

“But it could have been her!” she insisted, her certainty unshakable in the way only a her 13 year old stubbornness could manage.

He sighed. “So what, Silvi?” her dad said, his voice resigned but steady. “What difference does it make? She was dead. Gone. Her Girl meat was distributed to supermarkets. People ate her. And yes… maybe that shank had been hers—extremely unlikely, but possible. Did it taste any different?”

Silvia hesitated. “No,” she admitted quietly, shrinking into herself. It hadn’t tasted any different from the shanks they’d eaten together with her mother before. That realisation hit her like a second punch to the gut.

As she stewed over the taste of Girl shank, something else finally clicked.

“Will I be eaten too?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “When I’m grown up?”

Her father’s expression softened with sadness. “Maybe,” he said gently. Her father might not always have told her everything, but he never lied to her. “When you enter the slaughterable age, you’ll be in the Lottery. Just like every other woman. But the odds are better now. The cull rates are coming down steadily. The lower they get, the less chance there is you’ll ever have to go to a Processing Centre.”

He glanced at her, his voice rough.

“I really don’t want to lose you too. I want you to have a long and happy life.”

Silvia didn’t entirely understand what he meant—it was all abstract, distant. Later that night, as she lay in her bed, she couldn’t sleep. It all needed to make sense. She had to find out more for it to make sense. Yes, find out more. And that resolve finally let her fall asleep.

She started to learn. She researched. She asked careful questions.

When her class took a school trip to a Processing Centre, everything finally fell into place.

The centre wasn’t actively running, but Silvia saw everything: the clean, orderly changing room, the sterile waiting room, the machinery-packed processing lines, and finally, the cold storage.

In the freezing air of the cold storage, Silvia’s life changed. The cavernous room, chilled to the bone, was filled with rows of hanging carcasses swaying gently on meat hooks. They weren’t recognisable as people anymore. Halved torsos—headless, armless, and legless. Without their tits and cunts, you couldn’t even tell they had been women. Just Girl meat. This was where her mother had ended up. This was where she could end up.

She had to understand more about this. The why, the how. She wanted to know what her mother had gone through and what might lie ahead of her. The more she knew, the less she would be afraid of it. Just like her mother, who had walked into a Centre without looking back.

By the time she was of slaughterable age and officially entered the Lottery, the reality hit harder. She could get her Letter any day. The thought horrified and fascinated her in equal measure.

Silvia understood that the Lottery system was deeply rooted in their society, as entrenched as Girl meat itself. The genetic alteration from the Purple Spots that unbalanced their population couldn’t be undone—they’d tried, they were still trying, but currently there was no solution. The reality was that less then 30% of all births were male and female twins were common. Change wasn’t coming, at least not in her lifetime.

Cull rates were dropping, but they were levelling off slowly. She understood the maths: a constant, predictable number of women would always be slaughtered. People would keep eating Girl meat, and one day, she might be waiting in line to be slaughtered, just like her mother.

She couldn’t stop thinking about her. How calm her mother had been, walking into that building, knowing exactly what awaited her.

Had she been afraid? Nervous? Had she cried? Would it hurt? The questions haunted Silvia, horrifying her—and yet, they fascinated her.

What would it feel like, if her Letter came? How would she handle it? How would it feel to stand naked in a line of women and wait for her death?

She spent hours lingering in the cold section at the store, staring at Girl meat. Tits. Ass. Cunt. Shank. Shoulder. The speciality shelves with liver, Girl sausage, ribs, and more. The stew section, lined with soup feet and hands. Neatly packed and stacked. She wondered: how would her parts look, sitting there, waiting to be picked up? What had her mother’s parts looked like? And what about the rest? The head—where did that go?

Sometimes, her morbid curiosity disgusted her. It wasn’t normal. None of her thoughts were normal. Her mother had been slaughtered. How could she think about it so coldly? But the harder she tried to suppress it, the stronger the pull became.

She found herself studying her own reflection in the mirror—her pussy, her breasts, her butt. What would they look like as packaged cuts? When they were taken off her body? How did you take them off? How did it work? How did you carve out a Cunt? Slice off a Tit?

She studied biology books that showed the human body—its muscles, its bones. But they didn’t answer her questions. How did this work? How did this feel?

Somehow, her thoughts started to shift from how it would feel to how it was done. How did you butcher a woman’s body? And with that came another realisation: How do you kill someone fast without causing pain?

She was in the Lottery, and she knew that the waiting was the worst. She had been frightened for months, every time she checked the mailbox. It would be even worse to stand naked in line, waiting for her death. She had realised that she wasn’t afraid of dying. It would be over, and if her Letter came, what other choice was there? She knew the law.

The other girls in University prep school tried to just ignore it. Nobody really talked about it. Once, there had been the announcement that an older student had been selected, and that had been that.

She had stopped talking about it to her girlfriends. They had been repulsed and started to pull away. They didn’t want to know. Silvia didn’t blame them; ignorance would have been easier. So, she kept her fascination with Girl butchering to herself.

By the time she was almost nineteen and the end of University prep school approached, her best friend had received her Letter.

Nancy hadn’t shown up at school that day, so Silvia called her after class, figuring she was sick or just playing hooky.

“Hey, Nancy, sick or can’t be bothered again?” she asked when the call connected.

The voice that answered ran a chill down her spine. “I got my Letter.”

Nancy sounded detached, cold, emotionally withdrawn. Silvia froze, unsure what to say, before mumbling the sentence everyone was expected to use. “Thanks for your contribution to a better tomorrow.”

The words felt hollow and wrong. She caught herself quickly. “Sorry, Nancy. That’s horrible. How do you feel... How...” She couldn’t find the words. “Do you want me to come over?”

“Please.”

Silvia grabbed her bag and left immediately, her heart pounding. Nancy’s voice echoed in her mind—flat, hollow. She had to be there for her.

Nancy’s dad opened the door, looking like a zombie. His eyes were bloodshot, his movements mechanical.

“Silvia... uh, it’s not a good time now.” His voice was somewhere else.

“She asked me to come,” Silvia insisted.

There was a visible relief on his face. He nodded and stepped aside. “She’s in her room.”

“Thanks, Mr. Halbart,” Silvia said quietly, walking down the hall. What did you say to people? That stupid sentence just didn’t cut it.

Nancy was sitting at her desk, doing homework. Silvia stopped cold. For a moment, she thought she’d imagined the call. Then Nancy turned, her face a mess of dried tears, fresh ones still dripping onto her books.

“Hi, Silvi—” Her voice cracked. She turned back to her desk, grabbed something, and handed it to Silvia.

It was her Letter. Wet with her tears.

Silvia’s eyes scanned the clinical, bureaucratic sentences. Nancy had to report to a Centre for slaughter within a week of today.

"It came with this too," Nancy said, handing over a small booklet and a second sheet of paper.

The second letter was her official death certificate—Date of death: today. Cause of death: Slaughter.

A shiver ran down Silvia’s spine.

She opened the booklet. It was glossy and neatly organised, filled with step-by-step instructions: how to prepare, what to bring, what to wear, even how to say goodbye.

Silvia had never seen this booklet before, and as horrible as it was, it made her think about the details of the whole process.

She shook her head, clearing her mind. This was still Nancy, not Girl meat. She had to help her friend.

She sat down on Nancy’s bed, holding the letter and looking at her, not knowing what to say. She tried to keep her wayward thoughts in check.

“I want to know,” said Nancy, her voice raw from crying but determined nonetheless. “I know you know. I want to know. Tell me.”

“Tell you what?” Silvia asked, confused.

“What will happen to me. I want to know the details. Everything. I know you know.”

“I don’t know much more than you,” Silvia said, more confused. What did Nancy think she knew? They were all taught the same things in school. They’d visited the Centre together.

“Shut... up!” Nancy said, as she always did when she wanted Silvia to listen, and for the first time, she sounded like her friend again. “You’ve been looking into this. I know, even if you don’t talk about it anymore. I saw your bookshelf. So, tell me. How will I be slaughtered? What will happen then?”

“They use a device that fires a tungsten bolt directly into the medulla oblongata. It causes immediate unconsciousness and likely brain death.”

Silvia shook herself and looked at her friend. What had she just said? So cold, so clinical, so uncaring.

“I’m sorry, Nancy...” Silvia began, her eyes filling with tears.

“No! I want to know. Nobody is telling me anything.” Nancy took her hands. “Please tell me. What happens then? Will it hurt?”

Silvia blinked. She didn’t know what to feel. She just stared at her friend.

“Silvia, tell me. Come on. Please. I need to know. I’m afraid of it,” Nancy pleaded.

“Don’t be afraid. It will be over in a heartbeat. You won’t feel a thing. The…” She stopped, looking at her friend again, seeing how badly Nancy wanted to know. Silvia took a deep breath. “The butcher will hold the device to your head, and you will be gone. The hardest part will be the wait. But after that, it’s done. You’re gone. Painless. By every account I’ve read.”

Nancy hesitated. “Do I have to wait long? How does it work?”

“You undress, you shower, and you will be asked to clean out your bowels.”

“Naked? Clean my bowels?” Nancy asked, astounded and confused.

“Yes, women are slaughtered naked, and you have to clean your colon. It’s not an execution, it’s a slaughter. Food and health regulations require all this. When a body dies, it relaxes all its muscles… and the sphincter opens... and...”

“Yuck!” Nancy shrank back, disgusted. “But cleaning myself out is yuck too.”

“I guess.” Silvia didn’t have to guess—she had tried it out. It wasn’t that bad. Maybe a bit messy, but not really that bad.

Nancy looked at her inquisitively. “You know how to do that.” It was not a question but a statement. “You tried it!”

Silvia nodded, embarrassed. Nancy knew her too well. “Yes. I do. It’s not that bad.”

“But I have to be naked also, right?” asked Nancy under her breath, looking down, embarrassed.

Her embarrassment pushed Silvia’s buttons. “Nancy, you don’t have to be embarrassed about anything. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time—how I would handle it. One thing that stuck with me was this: whatever you do until your...” She hesitated, but she knew she needed to say it. “...until your slaughter doesn’t matter. You’ll be gone. You can do whatever you want. Nothing will matter anymore. You’ll be Girl meat, whether you do it or not, whether you’re embarrassed or not. It doesn’t matter.”

Nancy drew back, shocked, her mouth open as her brain processed what Silvia had said.

Then her face changed, and a bit of the old Nancy returned. “You’re right.” She blinked. “You are right. I will be...” She took a deep breath. “...I will be Girl meat anyway.”

She stood up, grabbed her phone off her desk, and dialled.

“Hey, Peter. It’s Nancy. Would you like to fuck me? Because I want to. What? Yeah, I’m serious. Come over in two hours.” She smiled. “Cool.” She hung up.

Silvia stared at her friend like she had two heads.

“What? You’re right. Doesn’t happen often, but it does,” Nancy said with a teasing grin.

Silvia rolled her eyes. Nancy continued, unfazed. “I want sex, so I’m getting some. If I don’t fuck him now, I never will. I always wanted him, but I was too shy to do something about it. So I’m doing it now.”

“Fair enough,” Silvia said. She was right. Silvia had never pushed her thoughts that far, but yes. Why not? She would want that too.

Nancy sat back on the bed with her, taking Silvia’s hands. “So, I clean myself out, and then?”

This was hard. Silvia had thought about all this in theory, about how it would be and how she would handle it. Now Nancy had to go through with it. She didn’t want her to go, but the only option left to her was to help her friend. Be there for her as much as she could.

Nancy badgered her, as always, to tell her everything she knew and then show her how to clean her bowels. Silvia even helped her shave herself completely clean.

Nancy decided to stay naked to get used to it. She looked at herself in the mirror, stroking her boobs, her pussy, her stomach, and her legs.

“What do you think?”

“You look stunning, that’s for sure. You’re not as afraid anymore.”

She dropped her arms and turned away. “I am... but also less. I don’t know...” Her words faltered, and she drew in a shaky breath. “I feel less frozen. I want to do things before I’m...” She exhaled sharply, struggling with the word. “...slaughtered. This is so hard.”

Tears spilled down her face again, and Silvia took her in her arms, holding her. Silvia had read about this—mood swings, the rush of anger, grief, and acceptance—but witnessing them was something else entirely.

After a long moment, Nancy pulled back, her eyes red and puffy. Her voice, though, had a spark of determination. “Thanks, Silvi. I’ve decided something.”

“What?” Silvia asked cautiously. You never knew with Nancy.

“I’m going to the beach tomorrow. I want to spend the whole day there, soaking up the sun. And then, the day after... I’ll go to the Processing Centre.” She swallowed, her voice cracking. “I want it over... fast. I don’t think I can wait a week without going mental. It’s hard enough right now. Will you come help me again and drive me? And say goodbye?”

Silvia hesitated, her heart tightening painfully in her chest. “Of course. Screw school. Let’s make tomorrow a day to remember. But don’t your dads want to drive you?”

Nancy shook her head. “No. I want you to talk to me, keep me calm. My dads aren’t taking it very well. I may be adopted, but...”

“I’ll drive you that day,” Silvia confirmed resolutely. “And I’ll come with you to the beach tomorrow. Pick me up?”

Nancy smiled faintly, her lips trembling. “You’re a good friend.” She paused, wiping her tears. “Thanks for telling me everything earlier. It… helped. I was so scared of what I didn’t know.”

Silvia nodded, feeling the weight of Nancy’s words. “I’m glad I could help.”

“You know what bothers me the most? The...” She breathed in deeply. “The butchers are probably male and I will be naked... and they won’t care about me. I’m just the next in line.”

Silvia nodded. She had never thought of it like that before. Yes, in the processing line, it was about speed. The more women slaughtered, the fewer the others had to wait and watch.

“I’m sorry about that. I wish I could change it.”

Nancy looked at her, searching for something, and then said, “I think I can do this. I don’t want to, but I have to, and now I think I can. Because of you.”

It was nice to hear that her morbid fascination had been good for something. She would miss Nancy so much. Briefly, she wondered how many other friends she would lose—or if they would lose her.

“I’m glad I could help you. I’m just going to mis—”

“Nope. Shut... up! Don’t go all gooey and soft on me now. You can cry your heart out in two days. Until then... shut... UP!” Her eyes blazed, putting emphasis on the last words, but there was a small smile on her face.

Silvia could see Nancy pulling herself together, using humour as a shield. It was so her.

Silvia opened her mouth, ready to tell her to ‘shut... up!’ when a knock on the door interrupted them.

Her dad said through the closed door, “There’s a boy here called Peter... said you called him?” His voice was slightly irritated.

“Thanks, Dad. Let him in. I’ll be having sex—a lot—and loud.” She winked at Silvia. Shocking her poor dad was Nancy’s favourite sport. Her father was harder to rattle.

“Nancy! You...” He was about to say something more but stopped. You could hear the stunned silence on the other side of the door. It must not be easy for the parents, either. Silvia had never asked her father how it had been for him. She felt a bit ashamed about that.

“Okay. Fine. I’ll go out and buy some nice dinner for us all. Your father will be home shortly. I’ll leave a note on the door. You want anything special?” His voice sounded steadier now, like he’d found something to do to keep himself from falling apart.

“Can I have my favourite chilli-fried chips? The ones I love. From the Chinese shop.”

After a moment of silence, he simply said, resigned, “Sure. Why not? If that makes you happy.” And Silvia could hear him leave.

“Dad needs something to do. Without Father, he’s always a nervous wreck.”

Silvia grinned. “You have fun and tell me everything tomorrow. Okay?”

Nancy flopped on the bed, naked, propping herself up on the pillows and opening her legs suggestively. Trying to look all sexy. “You bet. I’ll make you all jealous.”

“Ah, Nancy... you’re trying to make him cum in his pants first?” Silvia teased.

Nancy threw a pillow at her. “Close the door behind you. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning. Don’t tell anyone about my Letter. Please. I don’t want a pity party.”

Silvia left and said “hi and bye” to Peter as they met in the hall.

Yes… Nancy was doing the only right thing. Silvia was glad she could help her.

“Are you mental?” her mother screamed, her voice cracking.

“No, I’m not. I’ve been selected, and they’re going to slaughter me, so at least I can go out the way I want,” Rose replied resolutely, her arms crossed under her chest.

“Strangled? Slowly? What’s wrong with you?” her father added, his voice filled with horror.

“Lots. But it’s my choice. I have to die—not you. I want it this way. So, are you coming to watch or not?”

Her parents stared at her wide-eyed. Rose regretted telling them immediately. Stupid idea. She’d only told her brother and sisters that she’d got her Letter. Why did she think her parents would handle it any better?

“Not! I don’t want to watch you being slowly strangled to death,” her mother spat.

“Me neither,” her father added, shaking his head. “Sorry, Rose. It’s hard enough knowing you have to leave us.”

“Well, will you at least drop me off?”

“Yes, of course I’ll drive you,” her father said, his voice thick with emotion. “But, Rose...” He hesitated, his shoulders slumping. “I can’t watch that. I’m sorry.”

“I get it. I’m sorry, too. Would you watch if it was the fast and painless one? You know, where they hang you upside down, make you cum, and then slit your throat?”

Her parents exchanged uneasy glances. Her mother opened her mouth to say something but closed it again.

“I didn’t think you’d want to watch,” Rose said softly. “I just want to die on my own terms. But... I’d really appreciate a ride.”

“They don’t have a pickup service?” her father asked, his voice breaking. “You spent all your meat compensation on this, and they don’t even come to get you? We could have used that money.”

“I know,” Rose said, shrugging. Her tone was light but deliberate. “But it’s my meat and my slaughter. I get to decide. Besides...” She paused for effect, letting the silence stretch. “With the package I selected, you get free cuts of me. So...”

She twirled around playfully and lifted her boobs with a grin. “...what do you want?”

“How can you be so cold about this? I’m just glad I’m out of the lottery,” her mother said, sounding utterly drained.

“I always knew I’d be selected. Don’t ask me how—I just knew. So, I’ve had plenty of time to get used to the idea. I’m not afraid. I just want it to be on my terms. So, Mom... what parts do you want? Tit? Cunt? Ass? Those are the expensive cuts.”

Her mother sighed, shaking her head as she looked her up and down. “Ass and tits.”

Rose scrunched her nose. “You don’t want my cunt? It’s a premium cut.”

“It is, but I wouldn’t know how to prepare it properly. Tits and ass last longer. We have a family to feed.”

“Fair enough. Tits and ass it is,” Rose said with a smirk. “If you don’t want to wait for me to be processed, they’ll ship it out the next day.”

Her mother looked away, swallowing hard. Her father stepped closer. “We love you. You know that, right?”

“Yes, I do. I’m sorry, but I need this to be my way.”

“You’re mad, but I love you,” he said, his voice thick. “I’ll miss you.”

What really pissed her off was that her parents wouldn’t let her skip her job for her remaining days. What the fuck. She was dead meat! But she understood they needed the money and they wouldn’t get any from her body.

As her final day arrived, she felt nervous—not about dying, but about whether this really would work out the way she had dreamed it would. Maybe this had all been a stupid fantasy. She would find out soon enough. She had spent her last night with her girlfriend and had made love to her. Not just fucked around, but made love to her.

She hadn’t told her about her plans either. She would have just freaked out. She would miss her; she really loved her.

It had taken all her convincing to make sure her girlfriend didn’t volunteer to join her. As much as she loved her, it would’ve ruined everything.

Strangulation had been something she’d gotten into somehow. She couldn’t even remember where she’d seen it first—probably some random video. She’d tried it herself, looping a belt around her neck while flipping her pearl. The orgasm had been incredible. After that, she was hooked.

Later, she’d badgered her girlfriend into choking her while fucking her with a strap-on. Rose had passed out, and the orgasm? Out of this world. But her girlfriend had never done it again—too scared she’d kill her.

Rose hoped her slaughter would be just as good. Better, even. This was her last one, after all. She wanted to go out with the biggest orgasm of her life.

The facility had given her a safe word—well, a signal. If it got to be too much, she could tap out and just die. She liked that. It made her feel secure, like they actually cared about getting it right—for her.

When the email with customisation options came, she just stared at the screen. The possibilities were... something else... She had no idea.

Slow and painless? No, thanks. Hanging? Too fast, and she wanted to struggle. Strangulation seemed perfect. It would let her scream, hopefully. She really wanted to go out loud. In her apartment and in her girlfriend’s place, they could not really be that loud. The only option she had considered was being fucked doggy by a guy while he cut her throat. But she wanted to struggle, fight. She wanted to be restrained. Also, she had never been with a guy and was not sure she would like it.

The other options were morbidly fascinating but not her thing... at all. Drowning. Maybe, but she had never played with that option before. Beheaded? Too fast. And it only went downhill from there. Electrocution, Dismemberment, Gutted alive, Flayed alive! Did anyone really choose any of that? Well... there must be a reason it was in the catalogue.

And her mom thought she was mental. Maybe she should forward the email to her. No—stupid idea. Almost as stupid as this whole idea might turn out to be.

But dead was dead. She remembered the one orgasm when her girlfriend had choked her out. It had been beyond. How much worse could it really be?

She wasn’t afraid to die, just to be disappointed by it. It was strange; maybe something was wrong with her. But nothing that could be fixed anymore.

Anyway. She took a long shower, massaged her pearl, and then dressed in an old hoodie and jeans, stuff that nobody wanted anymore. She would leave it there.

“Dad! I’m ready!” Rose shouted.

When she stepped out of her room, her entire family was waiting for her. Fuck. Not what she wanted.

“We’ll make it short. I know you don’t want a big goodbye... but we need it,” her mother said, her voice barely holding together.

Rose sighed. Her mom was right. She’d be gone—dead. They’d have to keep living.

She knelt and pulled her little sister into a tight hug. “I love you, little scoundrel,” she whispered. Her sister clung to her, sobbing into her hoodie.

One by one, she hugged her siblings. “You have a better chance now of not winning the lottery. Make the most of it, okay? Promise me.”

Her mother hugged her last. “I won’t come with you. It’s... I just can’t...”

“I love you, Mom. I get it. My choice doesn’t change that.”

Her mom exhaled shakily. “That’s true. This way, at least, you get what you want. I’ll try to be happy for you.”

“That means a lot to me. Thanks, Mom,” Rose replied softly.

Her dad broke in. “Okay, we need to get going. Don’t want to be late.” His voice cracked. They both knew it was bullshit—just a way to keep things moving.

Rose took a deep breath and walked to the door. “My ass and tits will be back for tomorrow’s dinner. Enjoy!” The gasp behind her made her smile.

In the car, her dad finally spoke. “Was that really necessary? Your little sister probably won’t eat for days now.”

“She’ll eat. She has to. You have to make her. It’s better for her this way. She needs to understand what could happen—and that she doesn’t have to be afraid.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” he muttered. “I just... I can’t understand how you’re not afraid.”

“I don’t know. I’m actually looking forward to it a little,” she admitted. “You’re probably right—there’s something wrong with me.”

They drove in silence, the tension heavy between them.

At Clapton Private Processing, Rose turned to her father. “I’m going in alone, okay? Please... take care of my sisters. Make sure they have long, happy lives.”

He inhaled sharply. “I love you. I don’t think you’re mad. Just... determined.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Dad.” Then, before he could say another word, she stepped out of the car and walked straight into the building without looking back.

The building was really classy. She was impressed. After looking around, she went up directly to the receptionist.

“Hi, I’m here for my slaughter,” she said, and handed her the letter. She almost sounded chipper; it made her smile.

The receptionist’s eyebrows went up in astonishment. But she checked her in, scanned her chip, and asked her to sit in the waiting room. Waiting room. Fuck, they were boring. A mother and her daughter were already waiting there. Poor girl, she looked pale and afraid.

After a while, a family joined them. The daughter looked more composed, and her mother was nervously chatting.

Looking at them, she wished her parents had come and shared her vision, but she understood.

They started to chat, and the older daughter flipped out when she told her she had customised. She had selected the quick and painless path. Most people went for the quick and painless options. Rose wasn’t like most people. She wanted to feel every moment—every ounce of pain and pleasure.

What astounded her was the mother and young daughter. To volunteer to die with your child, her stepdaughter... that took guts.

Finally, it started, and they were led into the first room to undress. She put everything into the containers as it wasn’t worth anything anyhow.

The next room was for cleaning. Shaving? She looked down at herself and then at Jessica. She had not thought about that. Her girlfriend liked a bush, so she had never really shaved.

“Anne, I would take that offer, please,” she said. “Sure, happy to help you. Let’s get you on the extractor first, and then I will help you, okay?”

“Sure.” Rose got onto the thing and watched as Jessica was hooked up. Easy enough, her girlfriend had fucked her butt often enough. That tube was nothing. She probably didn’t need it. She had cleaned her butt out before. The last thing she wanted was to shit herself when she went.

Anne was nice and older, but she would do her in a heartbeat. It turned her on to no end to be shaved by her, and the result was extremely nice. She had never seen her pussy bald like that; she could see every fold and the wetness that had started developing. She liked it, something different, something very sexy.

“There you are. That looks much better now, don’t you think?” Anne asked, sitting back.

Rose looked down and stroked her newly bare, suddenly oversensitive pussy, and that made her shudder.

The last room was for waiting. She felt heartbroken about Eve, but she had a brave mother, and their Butcher seemed nice, too. She hoped it would go easy for both of them.

When Anne came back, she said, “Rose, we are ready for you. Please follow me. Jessica, I’m sorry you will have to wait a moment longer. Eve and Lisa… we need more time. Sorry.”

Rose turned to Jessica. “I wish you a quick and painless slaughter.” And she meant it.

“I don’t know what to wish you; I just hope you find what you are looking for,” Jessica replied, and Rose blinked, astounded. That was probably the kindest thing anyone had said to her. “Thanks. That’s nice.” She stood and followed Anne, her gaze lingering on her nice butt.

“Anne, is it too late to book some extra sex in?” she asked, her voice light but hopeful.

“Probably. We’ve got a guy who does that; he really gets off on it.”

“Oh… I’ve never been with a guy before. I’d try that.”

“Ask your Butcher. You’ve got a long session ahead, so maybe she can arrange something. All right, here we are.”

Anne stopped and opened the door for her, revealing a small, utilitarian room with a bench and a spreader bar on chains. It wasn’t at all how Rose had imagined it.

“Hi, I’m Alexandra, and I’ll be taking care of you today. This is Melissa, my assistant,” said a woman with sharp eyes and a commanding presence. Both women wore white aprons.

“Hi. You’re… my Butchers, right?” Rose asked, her voice tinged with excitement.

“Yes, we are,” Alexandra replied with a slight smile. “We’ll make sure you’re properly slaughtered, exactly as per your specifications.” Alexandra paused and smiled. “No. This bench isn’t for you. We only do the check-in here with you. After that, we’ll head to your slaughter room and begin.”

“Good. I was worried for a second,” Rose said with a smile, then turned around. “You probably need my chip?”

Alexandra smirked and scanned Rose’s chip. “All right, identity confirmed. Now, I need to go over your customisations, and I need you to confirm each point with a clear Yes or No. Ready?”

“Sure.” Rose blurted out.

Alexandra’s expression hardened, her eyes narrowing like a strict teacher about to scold.

“Yes,” Rose corrected herself quickly, swallowing hard.

“Better.” Alexandra continued down her list. “You selected strangulation.”

“Yes.”

“You specified you want it slow and to cum until you can’t take it anymore. Then you want to end it.”

“Yes.”

“You want to be restrained so you can fight against it. But you won’t fight us.”

“Yes.”

“You want to bleed.”

“No.” Rose shook her head firmly. She hadn’t included that on her list.

“Good. Just checking that you are paying attention,” Alexandra said.

It was reassuring that they double-checked. It made her feel like they really had paid attention to her.

Alexandra continued her list. “You prefer women as sexual partners.”

“Yes,” she said—but she wouldn’t mind trying that guy. Last chance, after all.

“You want to be forced if possible.” Alexandra’s gaze swept over her. “I can’t guarantee that. My safety comes first.”

“Understood.” Alexandra’s eyes narrowed again. “Sorry. Yes.” And she felt more like a stupid schoolgirl than ever before.

Alexandra continued, but her voice became slightly edgy. “What’s your safe word and signal?”

“Pepperoni, or I shake my head up and down.”

“Correct. You understand that if you use your safe word, I’ll kill you as fast as possible. It might not be pleasant, but it will be quick. You will be dead.”

Rose swallowed hard. “Yes.” There was no turning back. Even if it hurt, it would be over.

“Are you sure about all your selections?”

“Yes.”

“All right, that’s it. Anything you’d like to add?”

“Anne mentioned you had a guy who could fuck me?”

Alexandra tilted her head. “Yeah, but it’s too late to set that up now. Sorry.”

Rose shrugged. “That’s fine. I’m a bit nervous… sorry. I just…”

Alexandra held up her finger, and to her own surprise, Rose shut up immediately. “Anne, thank you. Go sit with Jessica. I will get started on Rose and then do her in between when I give Rose a little break so she lasts longer.”

“Thank you for your contribution to a better tomorrow,” Anne said as she closed the door. Rose could never understand what that sentence actually was supposed to accomplish. Probably something that people could say to make them feel better.

Alexandra turned back to Rose, her expression curious. “Sexual fantasy?”

Rose smiled faintly. “Oh yes. Very much so.”

Alexandra nodded, her expression shifting abruptly, becoming sterner. She focused on her, and Rose felt like she was under a massive spotlight. She froze. Alexandra stepped forward slowly, reached out and began grabbing her hair. Rose held her breath but didn’t move. Alexandra intensified her grip and then yanked her head back hard. A passionate gasp escaped Rose’s lips as arousal shot through her.

“Hands behind your back!” Alexandra commanded, her voice sharp and unyielding. Rose obeyed instantly. She could feel how much this turned her on; her pussy was already wet.

With her grip still firm on Rose’s hair, Alexandra dragged her through the small room toward the door Melissa held open. Rose’s heart pounded in her chest with excitement. Nobody had ever pulled her hair before—it felt like she was being owned.

The next room was much larger. At its centre stood a massive St Andrew’s Cross mounted at a slight angle, its arms equipped with restraints. Machinery was positioned at neck level, its purpose both ominous and intriguing.

“Kneel,” Alexandra ordered, her tone sharp, pointing in front of the cross.

Rose dropped to her knees without hesitation. This was so much better than she had imagined. As she knelt there, the thought struck her—this would be the first and last time she’d experience anything like this. A pang of sadness swelled in her chest, but she pushed it aside. At least she was experiencing it. That was something.

As she raised her eyes to meet Alexandra’s, she felt something. A connection she couldn’t explain but felt in every nerve of her body. She swallowed hard; there was electricity between them.

“Melissa, raise the cross. This one wants to die crying—right, bitch?”

Oh, my! Her words sent a shiver down Rose’s spine. She hadn’t realised how much she’d like being talked to like that—how much she wanted it. All of it.

“Yes, Mistress,” she whispered breathlessly.

“Not Mistress,” Alexandra snapped, her voice cold and cutting. “Butcher.”

Alexandra’s expression turned blank for a second—then cold. “Because that’s what I’ll do to you. I’ll gut you like the sow you are—cut your tits off, carve out your cunt, and take anything else of value. But...” Her butcher’s eyes dragged over her body, unimpressed. “Honestly. You’re mostly dog food.”

“Please… Butcher. My tits and ass—I promised them to my family. Please,” she pleaded, her voice trembling. For the first time, she wasn’t sure whether her Butcher meant it or not. Whether this was a game or real.

“Making promises you can’t keep?” Her Butcher smirked. “We’ll see if you cry loud enough in pain for me. Maybe. Otherwise, I’ll throw your whole body in the shredder and save myself the trouble. Dogs eat everything.”

Rose shivered at the thought. Dog food? The words echoed in her head, chilling her to the core. Was her meat really worthless?

“Now get your stinking muff over there. I don’t have all day.” The cold, harsh tone of her Butcher’s voice twisted something deep inside her. She couldn’t explain it, but her pussy was dripping wet.

Rose stood and moved toward the cross, her legs trembling. Melissa grabbed her right hand harshly, pulling her forward and forcing her onto her toes before strapping her in. Then, she did the same with her left hand. The position was uncomfortable—Rose had to stand perfectly straight, or the straps would dig painfully into her wrists.

Melissa looped a leather strap around her neck, threading it back into something behind her. The strap tightened suddenly with an electric whir, and Rose gasped, her throat constricting. She needed to stand on her toes, desperate to keep the pressure off her neck.

Her Butcher sauntered into view, a bullwhip dangling from her hand. She stopped in front of Rose, her gaze sharp and unrelenting. “Listen, little bitch. As long as you look me in the eyes, I’ll whip you mercilessly. Understood?”

Rose bit her lip, her body trembling with something she couldn’t name. Her pussy was so obscenely wet that her fluids began sliding down the inside of her leg. Her breathing hitched, but she nodded and locked eyes with her Butcher.

The whip uncoiled with a sharp hiss, and with a flick of her wrist, it lashed across Rose’s stomach. A burst of pain radiated through her body, and she cried out, tears springing to her eyes.

“Good, little bitch. Cry for me.”

The whip cracked again, this time striking her breasts. Rose screamed, her body jerking against the restraints. Her breast felt like it was on fire where she had hit it, but she kept her gaze fixed on her Butcher’s cold, steady eyes.

Another strike followed, landing just above her pussy. The pain was blinding, and Rose’s legs jerked upward instinctively, lifting her off her toes. The leather strap around her neck bit into her throat, cutting off her scream in a wet gurgle. Her body twisted as she struggled to get her feet back under her, her head turning red as she fought for breath.

Finally, she found the ground, her toes barely holding her weight. She coughed violently, tears running down her face as sobs wracked her body.

“Giving up already, little bitch?” her Butcher taunted, circling her slowly. “Come on. The fun’s just started.”

Her Butcher stepped closer, her presence overwhelming. Without warning, she forced a hand between Rose’s legs, plunging deep into her obscenely wet pussy. Rose gasped, instinctively spreading her legs, even as the leather strap bit into her throat. She fought against the strangulation, her body writhing, but she didn’t want the hand to leave. Especially as it found her pearl and teased it with cruel precision. A loud, broken moan escaped her lips.

“Come, little bitch... look me in the eyes. Do it, and I’ll let you cum.”

Rose was sobbing, her body shaking as she struggled to keep the weight off her neck. The strap dug in relentlessly, leaving her gasping for air. Through the blur of tears, she forced herself to look up, meeting her Butcher’s piercing gaze again.

“Better,” her Butcher said, a cruel smirk curling her lips. “Much better. Maybe I won’t make dog food out of you after all.”

The whip cracked again, this time slashing across her other breast. Rose screamed as loudly as she could, her cries echoing in the room. To scream like that felt so good. She had never been able to scream in her life before, and now her Butcher demanded it from her.

“Open your legs. The next one’s for your pussy. Come on, bitch. Open them,” her Butcher barked, her voice sharp and commanding. The whip struck her breast again, and Rose screamed desperately again.

“Open them, or I’ll ruin your tits, and the only thing your family will eat is Tit Tartare.”

No. Please, no. The thought unlocked a wave of cold panic. She couldn’t let that happen. Her family had to have her tits—especially her little sister. She loved baked tits. Rose took a shuddering breath and spread her legs, lifting them off the ground. Her full weight hung from her wrists and neck, the leather strap biting viciously into her throat.

Her whole world narrowed to the fight for air and the strain on her arms. Then the whip cracked. Pain exploded between her legs, radiating out from her pussy like a wildfire. She tried to scream, but the strap strangled the sound, leaving her choking and gasping. Her head spun as the searing agony overwhelmed her. Nothing had ever hurt like this.

She kicked and thrashed, her body convulsing, then she was hit again. Her head spun from the lack of oxygen and the pain. She couldn’t take it anymore; she put her legs back down onto the ground. The instant her toes touched the floor, air rushed into her lungs. She coughed and heaved, her entire body shaking.

Her Butcher’s hand slid back between Rose’s legs, pressing firmly against her clit. The contact sent a shockwave through her body, like an electric jolt. Rose jerked, her breath hitching as the fingers moved with precision, knowing exactly what to do where. Before she could even comprehend what was happening, the orgasm hit her like a freight train.

It tore through her like a flood wave, uncontrollable. Her body bucked, her head fell back, her vision blurred. She came so hard, so fast, that the world around her seemed to dissolve into nothing.

The strap dug into her again as her body relaxed, and it jolted her back to reality.

She panted, her chest heaving, trying to catch her breath. A hand stroked her cheek—soft, almost tender.

“Kiss me if you like what I’m doing to you,” Alexandra whispered, her voice soft and alluringly feminine. Her face hovered close, her breath warm against Rose’s lips.

Rose wanted to kiss her, needed to, but the strap around her neck made her hesitate. To reach Alexandra, she would have to let it tighten again. She swallowed hard and leaned forward, letting the strap bite into her throat. The pressure stole her breath, but the kiss... the kiss was worth it. Alexandra’s lips moved slowly, lovingly, as her tongue gently sought Rose’s. The intimacy was electric, a lifeline amidst the anguish before. Alexandra pushed her head back slightly with the kiss, easing the tension on the strap just enough for Rose to draw a shallow, desperate breath.

When Alexandra pulled back, the softness disappeared. Her voice became cold and detached, cutting through the moment like a knife. Her Butcher was back.

“I’m going to slaughter your little friend now. It will take some time. I’ll leave you here. I hope for your sake she dies quickly enough. Try not to die of boredom in the meantime; you wouldn’t want to miss all the fun we still have left together.”

Rose couldn’t see behind her, but she heard the door click shut and then silence. She was alone. Nobody was there. For the first time, fear crept in.

The straps kept her tied so tightly that she had to stand on her toes just to get air. Without anyone watching, without Alexandra’s presence, she could die here—and no one would notice until it was too late. She didn’t want to go like this!

Her heart raced as she tried to calm herself. She could feel the burning welts left by the whip radiating pain, her pussy burning with the whip lashes, but beneath that was the echo of her orgasm, the ghost of Alexandra’s kiss.

What if no one came? What if she passed out and died here, not from pleasure or pain, but from fucking neglect?

She shifted her weight, raising one foot, relaxing it, then the other. It helped, but not for long.

Her thoughts returned, clearer now, and with them came a wave of loss. She realised she would never feel anything like that again—never experience anything again. For the first time, she grieved for her life. She wished her girlfriend were here. She wanted to kiss her one last time.

She wasn’t afraid to die, not really. She was afraid of not feeling anything anymore.

But now her legs were trembling, her toes cramping. She shifted again, but it only bought her seconds. She hadn’t noticed that Melissa had gone too. Fuck... Jessica, please just die. Please! She needed Alexandra back, her Butcher... Anyone!

Desperation clawed at her as she took a deep breath and let her feet hang free, trying to relax her cramping muscles. The leather strap bit into her throat, and she gurgled, struggling as her neck muscles fought to bear the weight of her body. Her lungs burned, her vision darkened. With a last, desperate effort, she managed to plant her feet back on the floor and coughed violently, dragging air back into her lungs. Her legs had relaxed a bit, but not enough.

She hadn’t thought it would be like this. Not ever. Tears started to run down her cheeks.

She did her little dance, lifting one leg and then the other. It helped only for a short time. More tears ran down her face as the futility started to overwhelm her.

Her voice cracked as she howled into the empty room, “Jessica, fucking die already!” She didn’t want to go like this. Not like this.

Her toes cramped again, and she tried to hold out, but her legs gave way. She dropped, the strap tightening instantly. She hadn’t taken a breath, and her body convulsed as she struggled desperately to find air, to get her feet back under her.

She didn’t want to die like this. Not like this.

As the darkness crept closer and she lost all hope, a mechanical whir sounded behind her, and the strap around her neck loosened. She collapsed forward, gasping, her feet barely able to hold her up. Her lungs burned as she sucked in air, her wrists biting into the straps above her. But she was alive.

She coughed, her legs trembling, barely able to stand. There had to be some kind of safety mechanism in the strangulation device—something that released when she was close to death. But even as she thought that, three electronic beeps sounded, and the strap began to tighten again.

“Shit! Shit!” she gasped, rising onto her toes once more.

Back to square one.

“Fucking hell, Jess. DIE!” she screamed, her voice raw with frustration and anger.

Her body began to shake uncontrollably, and she danced between strangling herself and trying to relieve the strain on her legs and toes. Tears of exhaustion and rage streamed down her face.

The door opened. Alexandra’s voice was calm, almost amused. “Oh... you are still alive. That’s good. I like you.”

Rose sobbed, her body trembling. “I don’t want to go like this. Please. Not like this.”

“Bitch, you don’t have any control anymore,” her Butcher replied coldly. “Except for your safe word. Want to use it?”

“No! Just... just not like that. Not alone.”

Alexandra sounded closer to her. Her hand touched her lightly and carefully stroked her tears away.

Alexandra’s mouth was close to hers, and Rose yearned for her lips. Then they touched hers, and Alexandra’s tongue opened her mouth. Rose melted away. The femininity and softness of Alexandra were more than she had ever found with her girlfriend.

Alexandra stepped back and her Butcher smirked. “I’ll let you down for a while, if I can whip your pussy again.”

“Yes. Okay.”

“I think you need to beg properly.” Her stern voice echoed.

“Please, Butcher, let me down.”

“Wrong. Bitch.”

The strap around Rose’s throat tightened with the sharp hum of the electric motor. Her breath caught as she struggled against the growing pressure. Her thoughts blurred into panic.

“Please, Butcher, whip my pussy. Please! I’m begging you! Whip my pussy.”

Instantly, the strap released, and the St Andrew’s Cross tilted backward. Slowly, the tension on her arms and neck eased.

Her Butcher stepped forward, strapping one of Rose’s legs to the lower end of the cross, then the other. She was now spread-eagle, completely exposed.

“Now I have good access to everything,” her Butcher murmured, satisfied as she stroked her leg.

The whip cracked, striking her pussy with a sharp, searing pain that radiated through her body like a shockwave. Rose screamed, the sound raw and primal. Another strike followed. And then another. The pain grew overwhelming, her world spinning as she cried out incoherently, her screams dissolving into sobs.

“You’re too loud,” her Butcher said, her voice calm and detached. The electric motor hummed again, and the strap around Rose’s throat tightened. Her screams turned into wet gurgles, her eyes wide as her vision blurred. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream, as two more blows landed between her legs.

The strap loosened abruptly, and Rose collapsed, coughing and gasping for air. Tears streamed down her face as her body shook uncontrollably. She whimpered, her voice barely audible, her mind a haze of pain and submission.

Then something changed. A wave of pleasure rippled between her legs, sharp and undeniable. Rose looked down, her breath hitching. Alexandra smiled at her and blew her a kiss while she held a vibrator against her clit, its rhythmic pulses cutting through the lingering pain. She had taken off her top, and the view of her angelic breasts made Rose all woozy.

A guttural moan escaped Rose as Alexandra found her pearl. She had thought the whip had destroyed her pussy, that she couldn’t feel anything but agony. But now—this—pleasure overtook her, building into something unstoppable. Her body arched, her hips bucking against the sensation as a massive orgasm ripped through her. She jerked violently, her cries a mix of pleasure and pain, the climax drowning out everything else.

And then the strap tightened again.

The pressure on her throat pushed the orgasm to an unthinkable height, turning it into something wild and uncontrollable. Her vision swam, her body bucking and convulsing. The lack of oxygen and the endorphin release sent waves of ecstasy crashing through her, making her cum harder than ever before.

She panted, struggling to regain even a shred of consciousness. Her chest heaved as she fought for air, but it wasn’t enough. The whip struck again—across her breasts, her stomach—sharp lines of fire cutting through the haze.

Pleasure? Pain? Rose didn’t know anymore. The sensations blurred together, an endless loop of whip, strangulation, orgasm, and soft kisses. She was floating, untethered, somewhere between agony and ecstasy, life and death. She wasn’t sure if she had been here for hours or days. Time didn’t exist anymore, only the relentless cycle of pleasure and pain.

A wetness on her face snapped her back to some kind of reality. The scent hit her first—heady and sweet. A woman’s pussy lowered onto her mouth, warm and slick. Rose’s throat was parched, and she began lapping at the salty-sweet juices, her tongue moving hungrily, trying to quench her thirst. The taste grounded her, giving her something tangible to hold onto. She could’ve cried from joy.

Somewhere below, the vibrator roared to life against her own pussy. A moan escaped Rose, muffled by the pussy grinding against her face. The vibrations tore through her, ripping apart what little hold on reality remained in her mind. Pleasure, pain, and exhaustion had swirled together into a single, overwhelming force she could not tell apart anymore.

“Goodbye, Rose,” she heard Alexandra’s voice, soft and feminine. Just like her kiss.

The strap tightened.

Rose’s body fought instinctively, pulling against the restraints, her lungs screaming for air. But amidst the chaos, there was no hesitation in her mind.

Yes... like this.

It was everything she’d wanted—everything she couldn’t find on her own. The warmth of the pussy on her face, the vibrator driving her higher, the leather strap stealing her breath—it all aligned in perfect harmony.

She let herself go, surrendering completely. The scent, the taste, the sounds of Alexandra’s moans filled her world. The leather strap bit deeper, cutting off her air and her blood. Her vision blurred, her body trembled, her thoughts dissolved into nothingness. Pleasure crashed through her one last time, unstoppable and all-consuming.

As her final breath caught in her closed throat, the world exploded into light, heat, and sensation. And then, at last, it faded to black.

Alexandra stayed seated on Rose’s face, her chest heaving as she came down from her climax. She knew Rose was gone, but she had to make sure. Rose’s last breath had been into her pussy, just like many others before her, but it still felt special every time. She had been able to give Rose that—make her death feel better.

“Melissa, check her chip, please,” Alexandra said, her voice still unsteady.

She heard Melissa type on her remote. A soft beep followed. “Birth chip shows no brain activity. Heart stopped. She’s gone.”

Alexandra nodded and slid off Rose, bending down to kiss her lips and gently close her eyes. “Thank you for contributing to a better tomorrow,” she whispered. “I hope this was all you ever wanted.”

She leaned back against the wall of the slaughter room, closing her eyes and taking deep, slow breaths to calm herself. She needed to get her head back together, to distance herself from what she had just shared with Rose. She always enjoyed the games, the connection, the closeness, the submission—until it was time to kill the woman. That part was the hardest.

She was a Butcher. It was her job to kill, to slaughter. But for Alexandra, there was a difference. To slaughter them quickly and painlessly was a kindness, a service. But making their dream come true, killing them the way they wanted? That was different. It required something else. You had to be part of their experience. Lower your defences. Make love to them through pain. And then take their life.

“Okay, Melissa,” Alexandra said, her voice still shaky. “You butcher her. I’ll supervise. You know what you are doing.” She glanced at Rose’s lifeless body, her expression softening for a moment. “She wanted her ass and tits to go to her family. Pack her cunt, too. She earned it.”

Before Melissa could grab the knife, there was a knock at the door, and Helena walked in, Silvia trailing behind her. Helena looked emotionally drained, her shoulders low. Silvia was quiet, deep in thought.

“How did it go?” Helena asked softly.

Alexandra didn’t answer. She stepped forward and walked straight into Helena’s arms. She didn’t even try to hold back the tears. The sobs came hard, her body shaking as she clung to her friend.

“So, it was good for Rose,” Helena murmured, stroking Alexandra’s back gently. “Shh, Alex. It’s okay. I know you hate killing them. I know.”

Alexandra’s voice was muffled against Helena’s shoulder. “It was good for her. I made it good. She... she bloomed.”

“I know. You’re amazing at it. There’s nothing like that next week. Just a quick beheading with a bit of roleplay—I’ll handle it,” Helena said, her voice soft but steady as she held her friend close.

“I had a shitty day, too,” Helena continued. She turned her head toward Silvia. “Silvia, assist Melissa. Let’s clean this up and then we all go and get wasted. We’ll help finish butchering her and Jessica tomorrow. We gutted Lisa and Eve. We are doing the rest tomorrow morning.”

Alexandra nodded against Helena’s shoulder, her grip still firm. Helena held her tighter, letting her cry and grieve for the lover she had just lost.

The END

-----From next week on, we will start with "Silvia's Apprenticeship" and have a very close look at the other side of the blade.

Lisa had promised Eve’s father she would never let her go through it alone if Eve was ever selected. And she would keep that promise—no matter what. Eve, her stepdaughter, had been selected for slaughter, and her letter had arrived this morning.

​She loved her, and she could not let her go alone to be processed at one of those overcrowded, industrial slaughter centres. She would freak out. She would suffer so much before it was all over. She couldn’t have that.

​She called around until she found Clapton Private Processing. Without much extra thought, she booked them both into a Private Slaughter for late afternoon the following week, the last possible day for Eve. Lisa would leave with her; there wasn’t really anything left for Lisa anyway.

​Lisa said nothing, just letting Eve enjoy what little time she had left. No fear. No dread. Just a few more good days. She settled their affairs and got everything ready for them to stop existing.

​Lisa was nervous—not about her own death, which was approaching fast, but about how to tell Eve. Maybe it had been cowardly of her not to say anything yet, but Lisa thought of it as motherly protection. She simply didn’t know how to tell her. How to prepare her for her own death.

​It really was Lisa’s own fault; she and Eve's father had shielded the girl from too much. They thought they were giving her more time before exposing her to the reality of their cruel world. Believing Eve wouldn’t be selected, they figured they could wait and broach the topic a bit later with her, if at all. The cull rates were so low, they had argued. Was it really necessary to expose her to the fact that she could be slaughtered?

​Eve had eaten Girl meat like everyone else, and she understood where it came from, but Lisa had never told her that she could be selected, too—to become meat as well. It just never came up.

​Eve had always behaved and felt younger than she actually was. Her father had shielded her from too much, just as Lisa had, trying to protect her. Private tutors hadn’t helped either. Eve really didn’t have any friends in her age group.

​Eve was of slaughterable age and had been for some months. Lisa hadn’t even thought that she would be selected, but she had been, and now their house of cards was crashing down.

​She pondered how to tell her, making sure they spent some good quality time together in the meantime.

Their last day had finally arrived, and Lisa had to act. Lisa called Eve’s tutors and told them that they were not required anymore. Then, she sat down for breakfast with Eve as usual.

​“Eve, darling. You are not going to have lessons today,” she said, handing her the letter.

​Eve’s eyes widened in excitement, staring at Lisa.

​Lisa took her hands across the table. “I’m sorry. I never told you that you could be selected. Neither did your father. But... you have been selected...selected to be slaughtered. To become Girl meat. I’m so sorry.”

​Eve wasn’t stupid—maybe a bit slow, but she understood. Tears welled up in her eyes immediately and she stuttered. “I ...I have to die?”

Lisa nodded. “Yes. You will be slaughtered. Today.” Sounding as stable as she could.

Eve trembled, and a heavy sob escaped her. Lisa held onto her harder.

“Eve, I won’t let you go alone. I promised your father that I wouldn’t leave you alone. So I booked us both in for this afternoon in a private facility. You and me. We go together. I will be with you the whole time. We do it together.”

Lisa could see that helped her a little; she trembled less and held onto Lisa's hand tightly.

“But you don’t have to be slaughtered,” Eve stammered. “It’s only me. I don’t want to die. I don’t want you to die too.”

“I volunteered. It’s done,” Lisa said with a sigh of finality. “I am going with you. We die together. Without you, there is nothing left for me here.”

There were still tears in her eyes, but Eve nodded, squeezing her hand.

Lisa told her about the process, explaining why women were slaughtered.

“So... me... us being slaughtered and eaten means others won’t?”

Lisa nodded. “Yes. That’s right. In that way, the system is fair.”

They sat together for a while as Eve thought it through.

After a moment, Lisa asked, “Is there something you would like to do before we go? We have a few hours. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier....”

Eve took a deep breath. “No it’s OK. I guess. I would have freaked out for days...I’m freaking out right now...but...it’s done. And...”

“Yes...I know...somehow, it’s easier to know there is nothing you can change? And it’s soon.”

Eve nodded. Eve’s tears were still there, and she was white as a sheet.

“Hey...why don’t we have a huge tub of the massive expensive Chocolate chips with caramel ice cream you love. I sure don’t have to look after my calories anymore. What do you think?” Lisa suggested.

Eve nodded and Lisa went and got it for them adding some of the alcoholic sauces to it. It would make it easier for Eve.

So they spent some hours together eating ice cream and chatting about everything else but slaughter.

“Will it hurt?” Eve asked all of a sudden and the question cut through the air.

“No. I made sure of that,” Lisa lied, or perhaps prayed. “They promised it would be absolutely painless and stress-free. So that is why we are going there instead of a normal Processing centre.”

Lisa told her about the industrial centers and how women were slaughtered there.

“When I was your age, the cull rates were still very high, and the whole process was industrialized. Girls were just killed and processed as fast as possible. That’s why I chose this facility. It’s much more personalised. Not scary at all, I promise.” She paused.

“I have to ask you this, Eve. Because they will ask you. Do you want it to be fast and painless, or do you want to go a different way... such as hanging?”

Eve's shocked face told her everything she needed to know. “I don’t want any of that, either.”

“I had to ask. Sorry to scare you.”

Eve took her hand. It was the first time she had initiated the contact. “Thanks, Lisa.”

“You're welcome...” She almost said Daughter, but she could not assume that right. Eve was her stepdaughter. Her mother had lost the lottery years ago, and her father had remarried. Lisa had rejected Eve at first, and she hadn't had the courage to try again until now.

“I want to look the best I can Eve. I will wear my best clothes. How about you?”

"Yes, I think I like that." Eve's eyes lit up.

It reminded Lisa of how much they had loved playing dress-up when Eve was little. Why not one more time? A final bit of glamour before the end.

So they spent their last hours doing their hair and makeup, painting their nails. It was a first, and a last.

“I’m scared,” Eve said at some point.

“I know. I am too. They said it would be fast and you wouldn’t feel a thing. They said they will take good care of us. So we only have to be brave a little bit before it's over. Okay?”

“Will you be with me?”

“I will be... to the end... always.”

She leaned into Eve, putting her arms around her. She regretted not doing this earlier. She couldn't have kids of her own; they had tried everything. Eve was all she would ever have.

They made their way by cab to the facility, checked in, and waited. Eve was holding it together rather well. Lisa was doing OK. She was more focused on Eve the herself. A singe woman and then a family joined them. Finally they were asked to enter the first room and undress.

Lisa’s hands were shaking trying to open her blouse. “Come, let me help you,” Lisa said wanting to help her daughter unbutton. She had always been her daughter in her mind. Now, in their last hours together, she would not let that go. She just hoped that Eve would feel it, too.

“No....no...I need to do this...I’m just scared.” Eve said.

“I know, it’s over soon. Breathe. Just one breath after the other.”

They undressed. Eve was okay, not too ashamed of her young woman’s body. The other two girls in the room were older and had proper boobs. It was a shame, really. Eve had just started the Lottery, and she had already lost. But so was the system. Unbiased, fair, unbending. She had been selected, and so Lisa would go with her to be slaughtered, just like her.

The people here were nice, and the ambience was good, relaxing. Lisa had made peace with her own death. Her husband had died, and her daughter would die today. There was nothing for her anymore but empty days and empty nights. Better to help her daughter die in peace.

When it came to shaving, Lisa was embarrassed. How could she have forgotten that? She had forgotten to make sure her daughter was clean-shaven. Her virgin cunt would be the main attraction of her young body. Her boobs were nothing much to speak of. Her own boobs were good and would feature in some plastic wrap very well. Her own cunt was worthless, in her opinion, but you never know. She wished she could ask the Butcher, and if Eve weren't there, she would have. But she didn’t want to stress Eve with gory details.

“Thanks, Anne. I will help shave my daughter.” It burst out of her when Anne offered help.

Eve’s eyes went wide with astonishment.

“You never called me your daughter before!”

“I wasn’t sure I was allowed. But I do love you,” Lisa said, meaning it more than anything else she had ever said. She was giving up her own life for her. To protect her.

“I love you too. Thanks for coming with me… Mom.”

The word broke something in Lisa. She pulled Eve close, tears running down her cheeks. But Lisa knew she couldn’t indulge in this feeling. If she did, she would fall apart.

“I had forgotten to tell you to do it. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks... Mom.” She smiled a bit and it was all Lisa had ever wanted. “Can you do it? I ...I have never shaved...I don’t want to hurt myself.” Eve’s hand were still a bit unsteady.

“That’s OK. Let me do it.”

Eve lay back, spreading her legs. Lisa knelt between them, razor in hand, and gave her the first—and last—shave of her life.

She took her time. Every hair mattered. She would make it perfect. Nobody would question the quality of Eve’s cunt. Nobody! It would be pristine. Not that she had much hair to begin with.

She made short work of her own hair, just enough for a decent cut.

Then Eve was called to get her bowels cleaned out. She was unafraid of that part, as the two other women had already done it, and they could sit next to each other, holding hands while the machines did their work.

They had to wait in the last room. Lisa took Eve in her arms and held her tight. Eve was sobbing quietly, and Lisa felt her shaking—from fear or cold or both, it didn’t matter. She held her daughter. Just for a few more minutes. Lisa could feel Eve’s nervousness rising to a panic. Then Anne returned.

“Eve, we are ready for you. Please follow me.”

That was it. She would lose her daughter. She would not be a mother anymore.

“Can my Mom come with me, please... please? I don’t want to be alone,” Eve begged, cuddling into her.

“Okay, let me ask.” Anne disappeared again.

Lisa held her tight. She didn’t understand why they couldn't go together. Maybe because it was cruel to watch the other being slaughtered? Probably.

“I’m not sure, darling, that they can do that,” Lisa whispered. “But if they can, I will come. Okay? If they can’t, you need to promise me to be brave and strong, just for a few minutes. You can do that?”

She hoped Eve could do it alone. Not that she didn’t want to be there, but she feared what it would do to Eve to see the reality. Eve didn’t reply; she just held on tighter. She was at the end of her endurance.

Anne returned with a Butcher in tow. Lisa just hoped the Butcher would be nice. At least she was smiling as she knelt in front of Eve.

“Hi Eve, I’m Helena. I will look after you today. I promise you that everything will be alright and I will be there with you the whole time. I’m sorry, but your mother won’t be able to come with you.”

Nothing about slaughter or meat or death—good. The facility had been worth forgoing their meat compensation.

Helena looked at Lisa. “I’m sorry we can’t do that. We can’t have you unrestrained during...”

Lisa interrupted Helena before she said too much. She understood. Mother instincts could take over; people did stupid things. “I understand.”

She turned to Eve and stroked her face. “Darling. Go with Helena, please. Everything will be alright. She will help you and look after you. Everything will be just fine. I promise. I will be right there after you. Okay?”

“Eve,” Helena added, “you are already a brave woman, and I know you can be brave for a moment longer. I promise you, you won’t feel a thing.”

Helena knew how to handle young women. That gave Lisa hope. She had hoped they could be together until the end, but she understood; she wasn’t even sure how she would handle seeing her daughter slaughtered.

But Eve clung to Lisa more than ever. The poor thing was terrified; clearly, her resilience had worn off, and in her fear, she looked more like a small girl than a woman. Helena looked at Lisa and studied her closely. The unasked question was clear: Can I trust you to hold it together while I slaughter your daughter in front of you?

Lisa gave a decisive nod.

Helena studied her for a moment longer.

“OK. We’ll do it like this: you and your mother come with me together, and she’ll stay with you while we get you ready—so you don’t have to be afraid anymore. OK? Does that sound better?”

To her relief, Eve nodded, and Helena continued talking directly to Lisa. “I will trust you to cooperate. You have to be brave... for Eve.”

She could tell that her Butcher was not happy and regretted that she had to slaughter the girl with the mother in the room. But it was what it was. Eve had been selected, and she had to die, and so must Lisa.

Lisa took a deep breath.

“I understand. I will follow your orders... whatever they are. Come on, Eve. We do this together, you and me. Mother and Daughter. Helena will be very gentle with us. Come.”

She stood up and pulled Eve along, and they followed Helena and Anne through the doorway to the left and to their slaughter.

There was one open door with a green light. Another woman in a white apron waited there, and she looked astounded.

“This is Silvia. She will help me. She is very nice. Silvia, say hi to Eve and Lisa.”

She smiled, even if it didn’t reach her eyes... she was young herself, maybe just out of school. Probably the first time she had to slaughter a woman her own age. “Hi Eve, Hi Lisa. I will take good care of you.”

“Silvia, please read Eve’s chip in while I read Lisa’s.”

Eve was apprehensive, shrinking back slightly as Silvia approached, but she let her scan the chip. It was the equipment that terrified her—she stared wide-eyed at the bench and the metal bar hanging just above it, her grip on Lisa’s hand tightening until her knuckles were white.

Silvia held out her hand, gentle but firm. “Come on, Eve. You can hold my hand while I scan your chip. See? It's just the normal scanner. Nothing scary.”

Eve took a shaking breath and switched hands, and the mundane routine of scanning her birth chip settled her a bit.

Helena turned around too, lifting Lisa's hair. While she scanned her, she whispered, “You volunteered. So, I assume you are doing it for her. I have to count on you to hold it together. If you panic, she panics. You are her rock.”

Lisa whispered back, fierce and desperate. “I only live for my daughter. She has to die, and I will follow her. I will do whatever is needed to make it as easy for her as possible. Please, Helena, be as gentle as you can with her. I don’t care about me.”

She felt Helena’s hand squeeze her shoulder briefly. “I promise. You are a good mother.”

It brought tears to Lisa’s eyes, but she blinked them away before she faced Eve again. She lifted her chin, forcing a calm she didn’t feel.

“So? Are you my Eve? My daughter?” She asked Eve, challenging her playfully to break the tension. Eve nodded and she had a thin, trembling smile.

Helena turned to Eve too. “I’m glad to tell you that this is indeed your mother. Her chip confirms that.”

Helena nodded to Anne and dismissed her. She wanted to say something, but she had no chance. Probably that stupid sentence that people always said. Eve didn’t need to hear that.

Lisa forced a reassuring smile and Helena took over.

“OK. So Eve. Can you please lie on that bench for me, feet that way?” pointing at the padded bench.

Eve hesitated, looking at the restraints.

“Come on, darling, I’ve got you. See? Just sit down. No big deal.” She had to hold it together for her.

“So Eve, we will just put your feet onto this bar. See, all good. That didn’t hurt at all, right?”

Eve shook her head, her legs were now spread wide.

“Now we just lift your legs up so you will hang upside down. Trust me, we all tried that, right Silvia?”

“Yes, I did; it's weird but it doesn't hurt. Just like a handstand,” Silvia replied softly.

“Ok,” Eve whispered.

“Lisa, hold her head for me.”

Lisa held Eve’s head as her body was winched upwards, and Helena and Silvia made short work of getting the bench out of the way.

Hanging there, vulnerable, Eve asked softly. “Does dying hurt?”

Helena stroked her hair. “No, you won’t feel a thing. I promise. You just will drift of like when you go to sleep.”

“Will you be with me?” Eve asked her mother, her eyes upside down and searching.

“Yes. I’m right here...” and Lisa touched her daughters leg “and when you are gone... I will follow you directly. I can’t live without you.”

“I love you, Mom. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too, Darling. And I love you even more.”

Eve was hanging upside down, her legs spread wide. Lisa kneeled beside her, stroking her hair, trying to ground her wide-eyed daughter. Eve's breathing was fast, bordering on hyperventilation.

Helena took a good look at Eve, assessing her state. “Silvia, hand the wand to Lisa and prep the... next room. I’ll take it from here.”

Silvia hesitated a moment, glancing between them, but then handed Lisa a large white vibrator and slipped out the door to the other room. The Slaughter room.

Helena knelt down on the other side of Eve. She ran her hands firmly but gently down Eve's sides, over her ribs and breasts, grounding her. “Your mother is going to help you cum, Eve. Trust me, it will help you relax and forget.”

Lisa could see Helena’s touch was working, slowing Eve’s frantic trembling just a fraction.

“I’m just putting your hair in a bun, okay? Just relax,” Helena murmured soothingly.

Lisa took a deep breath, steadying her own shaking hands. She could do this. She had to. She switched the vibrator on, letting the hum vibrate against her palm, this one was strong.

Lisa touched Eve’s leg. “Eve, darling,” she began softly. “It’s okay. I know you touch yourself... just like I do, just like every other woman does. The vibrator is no different—you’ll like it, I promise. Just close your eyes and let yourself enjoy it.”

She pressed the vibrator gently to Eve’s clit. Eve gasped, her hips jerking against the restraints as the waves of pleasure hit her.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Lisa encouraged, forcing a smile she hoped looked brave. “I love this, too. You don’t have to be shy. Every woman does it.”

Her voice wavered slightly, betraying her own uncertainty. Eve would have an orgasm and it would relax her, that was good. That was all that mattered. She could give her daughter that comfort. Lisa wasn’t sure she’d be able to cum herself when the time came. If she couldn’t, she’d ask Helena to simply slit her throat and end it.

“That’s right, Eve. There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Helena added softly as she finished securing Eve’s bun. “I touch myself too. It’s good. You can be as loud as you want to. That’s fine. I am and it makes it even better.”

Eve’s seemed to start to give in and her moans grew louder, her body writhing under the sensations. Helena gave Lisa a small downward flick of her hand, a silent cue to ease up. Lisa slowed the vibrator, drawing out the build-up.

Helena grabbed a metal hook from the nearby tray and applied a small amount of lube to her finger. “This might feel strange for a moment, Eve,” she said gently. “But trust me—it makes everything feel even better.”

She spread the lube carefully around Eve’s asshole, then slid her finger inside. Eve gasped sharply, her voice filled with unrestrained pleasure.

Helena withdrew her finger and replaced it with the hook, easing it into place so the ring at the end rested snugly against Eve’s back. “Now, I’m going to take your hands…” Helena spoke soothingly as she gently bound Eve’s wrists to the ring behind her back.

Eve shuddered violently and let out a loud, unrestrained cry as she climaxed. Her body spasmed, her voice rising in breathless exclamations. “Oh… oh Truth… oh…”

As strange as it was Lisa was happy. Gradually, Eve’s body relaxed, and Lisa lowered the vibrator’s power, stroking her legs.

“That was nice, right, darling?” Lisa asked with a warm smile. “I’m so glad you enjoyed yourself. Did it feel good?”

Eve, her cheeks flushed a deep red, nodded shyly.

Helena stroked her hand soothingly down Eve’s body. “Do you want to do that again?”

Eve nodded eagerly, her breath still uneven. Lisa understood she wanted the feeling back; she wanted to stay in the haze the orgasm created.

“Just close your eyes,” Helena whispered. “Keep them closed. It makes everything better. That’s what I do.”

Helena watched Eve’s face, waiting for her to squeeze her eyes shut. Once they were closed, she nodded to Lisa and stood up, opening the next door as silently as possible while Lisa applied the vibrator again... but slower, less demanding this time.

Lisa understood what would happen. Eve’s next orgasm would be her last. She gulped but held it together. Wiping a tear away.

Outside in the slaughter room, everything was ready. A yellow container stood in the middle, and Silvia held something behind her back. Probably the knife.

Helena stepped in and started pushing Eve out on the rails into the slaughter room, positioning her directly over the container. Eve didn't open her eyes; she was focused entirely on the vibration.

Silvia passed the blade to Helena behind Eve’s body, out of her sight.

Lisa nodded and said, “OK, darling. I’m going to make you cum again. Just relax into it. Enjoy it. OK? Let me hear how loud you can be.”

She put the vibrator on full power and, with her other hand, stroked her daughter's body. Helena signalled Silvia to stand back, then knelt down behind Eve’s head, stroking her breasts, her throat, and her face. Each woman knew what would make her feel good—and make her last orgasm overwhelming enough to hide the end.

Eve moaned loudly and wiggled, building up fast. It didn't take long until she came.

“Oh my... Truth...!”

The cry dissolved into a wet gurgle as blood poured from her throat into the waiting container below her.

Lisa bit her lip hard, tasting blood, trying to hold it together. There was a lump in her throat, and her knees were weak. Focus on your daughter, she told herself. Hold it together.

“Keep it on her; she is still coming.” Cautioned Helena and Lisa kept the Vibrator on her dying Daughter's clit as she bled out.

The blood flow started to ebb away.

Helena stroke Eve’s face. “She is gone. Keep it on a bit longer, please.”

Tears ran down her face as she stroked Eve’s still warm skin. “I love you. I so Love you.”

Helena stood up. The blood was only just dripping into the container.

“Heart stopped, Birth chip confirms no brain activity anymore. She is gone.”

She turned to Lisa. “I’m so sorry. You have been so brave and such a good mother. She wasn’t alone and that helped her go in peace.”

Lisa switched off the vibrator and handed it to Silvia.

“Please… do me now. Fast. Just cut my throat and let it be over. I don’t care anymore.”

Helena nodded. “It’s okay, Lisa. I’ll make it quick. Your daughter has peace—I’ll give you yours. Silvia, get another bar in here.”

“But... protocol says we need to finish off the first carcass before—”

“Silvia! Do as I say. Move it.” Helena’s voice was sharp. Silvia flinched and rushed into the other room.

Lisa began to cry. She couldn’t stop. Her lovely daughter was dead, everything she had ever cared about was gone.

She felt Helena’s hand on her shoulder. “Can you sit down on the floor for me? Just for a moment.”

Lisa nodded and sank to the cold tiles, trembling. Silvia returned, wheeling in a fresh spreader bar, the metal clattering loudly along the rail system.

Lisa could not stop looking at the body of her lifeless daughter, at the blood dripping from her open throat into the yellow bin.

Helena crouched in front of her, blocking the view. “Lisa. Look at me. Just close your eyes. I will make it as fast as I can. Okay?”

Lisa closed her eyes. Yes, that was better. Focus on Eve eating ice cream.

“Left leg. Just keep your eyes closed.”

Lisa lifted her left leg, and she felt the strap tighten. She heard the chain system rattle again. Silvia must have moved her daughter out of the way.

“Right leg. Good.”

“Okay. I’m winching you up now. Silvia, hold her head.”

Slowly, her legs moved upward. Silvia held her head steady as her body lifted off the floor. Then she was hanging upside down, the blood rushing to her head.

“I’m putting the hook in, and then I’ll tie your hands. Silvia, do her hair.”

Lisa felt the cold metal hook slide inside her, followed by the binding of her hands. She just wanted to go. She let the tears flow freely now, running down her forehead to mix with the drops of her daughter's blood on the floor below.

Then it was done. Silvia stood up. Helena knelt beside her face.

“You are a brave woman, Lisa. And a good mother.” Helena caressed her cheek.

Lisa opened her eyes one last time. She saw the knife in Helena's hand and looked forward to its blessing.

She jerked as the vibrator started its work. The sensation spread out from her pussy, demanding attention. She breathed in and let go. She relaxed into the pleasure, welcoming it, focusing on it. If this was how Eve had felt in her last moments, she was relieved. Eve was all that had mattered.

She built fast, every wave of pleasure making everything easier. Her daughter was at peace; now she could let go. One last orgasm. Forget everything and then fall into the darkness beyond.

She was on top of the mountain, ready to cum. She took a last breath, remembered Eve’s laughing face, and jumped.

She felt her head being pulled back, a quick, hot sensation on her throat as she climaxed. She smiled, and slowly, the nothingness replaced the waves of her orgasm.

“She is gone. Heart stopped. Birth chip confirms no brain function,” Helena stated.

She exhaled slowly and reached out to close Lisa’s eyes. Eyes always popped open when they died; death relaxed the muscles.

“Thank you for being such a good mother,” she whispered.

She stood up and shook her head to clear it. This had been intense. Helena had been a Butcher for more than fourteen years, but she hated slaughtering women this young—especially as her own twin daughters were that age now. Some girls came in all business-like, but most were like Eve: terrified, clinging to whatever piece of comfort they could find. As their Butcher, she needed to give them that comfort without breaking her own heart.

She had made sure her twins understood what awaited them if their Letter ever came. They had made her promise that she would be the one to slaughter them. She truly hoped it would never come to that, but if it did, she prayed she could be as strong as Lisa had been.

At least here, in this private facility, she had time for her livestock. She could make it easier for them. Make it more personal than the slaughter line-up in the Processing Centres.

She had hated her time at the Centre. The endless, relentless killing. They had managed up to 150 women a day, one after the other. They had tried to make it better, tried to improve the process, but in the end, the HPCC had overridden their efforts, demanding higher efficiency.

When the HPCC installed more efficient but less humane slaughter setups, Helena and Alexandra had finally quit and opened Clapton Private Processing. They only processed eight women a day, but at least these eight women could be slaughtered with dignity—and in the way they chose.

She glanced at Silvia, her young apprentice, standing silent and pale. This had been her first young girl. She would teach her the right way. The humane way.

“Silvia, you still have a lot to learn,” Helena began, her tone calm but firm. “As a butcher, you must know how your livestock thinks and feels. You have to adjust to the situation. Do you know how this would have been if her mother hadn’t been here?”

Silvia shook her head, her face tense.

“Eve was just of slaughterable age. She would’ve been terrified—screaming, crying, fighting us every step of the way,” Helena explained, her voice steady but weighed down by memories. “And I can tell you from experience, she would have been too stressed to come. When that happens, we’re left with no choice but to slit their throat and bleed them out without the benefit of the endorphins or a bolt to the head.”

Helena sighed, her gaze distant. “She would have thrashed like crazy. Blood everywhere. It’s messy, it’s chaotic, and it sticks with you. I’ve had that a couple of times. Trust me, Silvia, you lose a lot of sleep over those ones.”

“As for Lisa,” Helena continued, looking down at the cooling body. “Lisa was a gamble. A calculated one, but still a gamble. She seemed determined enough to accept that Eve had to die. She knew there was nothing she could do but help her daughter. BUT.” Helena’s voice sharpened. “This could have gone bad, too.”

“There have been incidents where an unrestrained mother, sister, or lover lost it and fought back. There was one case, right after we opened this facility. The mother grabbed the knife—that’s why the knife is always in the slaughter room now, never in the prep room. She stabbed her butcher. Security had no choice but to gun her down. Her daughter—already locked into the spreader bar—had to watch everything. She was hysterical, beyond control, and the security officer did the only humane thing left to do: he shot her directly in the head.”

Helena shook her head. “We lost the meat, nearly lost our license, and we lost the butcher. She was beyond help. She volunteered herself where she laid. I was the one who cut her throat and ended her pain.”

She paused, studying Silvia’s shocked expression. Good. Her apprentice needed to understand the stakes.

Helena reached out and caressed Lisa’s leg gently. “Lisa had suffered enough. She was at her breaking point. She had to help slaughter her own daughter—think about that. She just wanted to go. Forcing her to wait any longer, making her watch her daughter be gutted... that would’ve been cruel beyond measure. That’s why I broke protocol. The system is cruel enough. A good butcher shouldn’t be.”

“I’m sorry, Helena,” Silvia said, her voice trembling.

Helena sighed and gave her a small, understanding smile. “It’s all right, Silvia. That’s why you’re an apprentice. Now, help me finish these two. It’s been a long day. We’ll grab a drink afterward, and I’ll tell you some more stories—if you’re up for it.”

“I’d like that.” Silvia unsheathed her own knife and approached Eve. She began opening the stomach, just as Helena had taught her. Slow, steady cuts.

“Helena...” Silvia hesitated, her voice wavering. She glanced over her shoulder, watching Helena work deep inside Lisa’s abdomen, carefully cutting the connective tissue around the liver.

“If... if I ever get my Letter—would you... would you be my butcher?”

Helena didn’t look up immediately. She concentrated on her work, removing the liver with a practiced hand. Once it was placed in the tray, she looked at Silvia and nodded solemnly.

“I’ll make sure you’re slaughtered the right way.”

Chapter 5 – The End?

They collected their state meat compensation balance and the cuts at the reception and made their way home in silence.

“It feels empty without her. Jack. Did we do the right thing?” asked Samantha as they hit the highway.

“What else could we have done? The only other choice was to leave her at the Processing Centre—to say goodbye at the door and hope she wouldn’t suffer.”

“She was shaking with fright.” Samantha fiddled with the cool box on her lap.

“I know I saw it,” Jack said, gripping the steering wheel tightly as they drove. His eyes stayed fixed on the road, his voice taut with emotion. “But she would’ve had it worse in a Centre. The only difference would be that you wouldn’t have seen how she died.”

He turned to her. “You saw a cleaned, presentable centre with her on that school trip. A centre that exists only to be shown to the public.” He shook his head, amused. “It has a low workload and the best butchers. You never saw a real centre under full load. I have. It made me work undercover on the floor of a Centre under full load once. I know exactly how it is.”

Samantha stayed silent, watching him, her expression unreadable. She knew that. He had told her, but never how it had been. She only knew that he had drunken himself into oblivion that night.

“It’s cruel. That day they needed to process about 200 women, in a centre that was rated for no more than 100 a day.” He shook his head as the memories of that day flooded back. “I had been on the floor in other centres, especially on the county side. Low workload, some of the Butcher even knew the livestock. Totally different. But Clapton under load...fuck.” A shudder ran up his spine.

“They cut the women out of their clothes, forcefully, if they didn’t get naked themselves fast enough. Then they herd them into lines using cattle prods. It doesn’t matter if a woman was cooperating or not. The Butchers were under pressure to process the workload.” His voice shook slightly as the old memories surfaced. “To clean them, they just tie their hands overhead, shove tubes up their asses and pussies. The people doing it—they’ve been working knee-deep in Girl shit and piss the whole day. They don’t care anymore. Hair removal is done using chemicals. Yeah...talking about Food and Health standards. Then, the Girls are blasted clean with cold water high-pressure hoses. It’s rough. It’s humiliating. It’s inhumane.”

His voice cracked, but he pressed on. “Then they’re hoisted up by their feet onto the rail system, just as Jessica, just not as gently and caring. I think cows are treated with more care than these women. They hang there as the rail system moves them along. Crying, sobbing, but mostly pleading and screaming as they are able to see what comes next.” It had been hard watching that. He still had some weird dreams about it.

“A worker just slits the throat, while the next one starts directly opening the belly and the one after starts pulling intestines out. They are not even dead yet. They are struggling, choking, gurgling, bleeding out while they are gutted more or less alive.”

Jack shook his head, trying to push that picture out of his mind. He didn’t like what it did to him. He had never understood why that had made him hard. He shook his head; at least this time, that hadn’t happened. We wouldn’t have been able to stand him if that had happened today. He breathed deeply, thought, and pushed this thought and the picture of his naked daughter out of his head.

“The air stinks of piss and blood. The sound is filled with machine noises, screams, pleading and begging. Nobody but the Butchers on the floor knows. That wasn’t going to happen to her. Not to our daughter. We couldn’t let that happen.”

“No, we would not. Definitely not.” He looked over to his wife and how tiredly she held the cooler box.

“But you addressed that already. You changed this. Didn’t you? More staff, more training, less workload. More centres. I know that these pileups were ironed out on our side.”

“Yes. Mostly.” He said, he couldn’t admit that he had not had the courage to visit a centre since. “But pileups still happen, not as massive as that.”

“This new method of Private Slaughter is much more humane and better. I was thinking about it. A good Orgasm would overwrite everything and relax you,” She sighed. “But I also understand that this means we either have to build way more small centres and train way more butchers, or we have to wait for the cull rate to come down.”

“I will get behind the council to approve more individual Centres.” Said Jack resolutely. “They need to be built up anyway. We have to start now.”

They drove on in silence.

“Did you know she would be chosen?” Samantha asked. Samantha asked softly. Jack didn’t like the implication, but he understood she had to ask.

“No, I did not. I had no idea. I would have never agreed to that. You?”

“No! I’m currently working on optimising geographic distribution. The far north needs more attention.” She shook her head. “I don’t see any pre-process data anymore.” Samantha paused, looking down at the cooler box. “Do you think it was pure chance? I mean, nobody is exempt, even our daughter. Or do you think...” She asked softly.

Jack sighed. He had been asking himself the same question.

“I’m not sure. I really not. It could be.” he ventured. Trying to come to terms with his own guilt.

His wife shook her head. “I want it to be chance. Bad luck. But...” she bit her lips. “It’s just that...that we experienced what It actually wanted to know. It must have planned it. It must have.”

Jack nodded. “Yes. It looks like that. Very long-term planning. That’s what It is designed for.”

Jack gripped the steering wheel harder, trying to retain composure. “I never would have volunteered to Its request for ‘perspective data input’ if I knew it meant Jessica.”

Samantha also looked straight forward. Her hands on the cooler box, holding it tighter than it needed to be held. “I would have never allowed it if I had known. Maybe that was Its whole logic all along.”

Jack turned to his wife and saw how her face slipped into her Analytic stare.

“It had asked us to volunteer for a ’personal experience of the system’, from a human perspective. Something It can’t do. I remember, I even asked if that meant for me to be processed, I was still in the lottery then, and It responded ‘no’. I just didn’t think ahead that far. Jessica had been just five then. It was so long ago.”

Jack nodded. “Me neither. I thought that after it sent me to various centres to experience the reality and you to manually analyse all the data pre- and post-processing, that was it. I never...”

“No, I never either. But it makes sense.” Samantha said softly. Jack knew too.

“You are on the HPCC board right now, and I’m the department lead in data analysis. We have just witnessed what it could be like for women. Individual, cared, going with some dignity. We are in the right spots to change the current methods.”

That had never occurred to Jack, that ...because of his job. His head flew around, and his wife looked at him while she cradled the cooler box. “That’s...” he stuttered.

His wife nodded. “Data suggests it. Because we volunteered so long ago, we forgot, and also we never thought it would mean Jessica. So we had a clean slate. We didn’t anticipate it.”

That made sense, but didn’t make him feel any better. He felt tricked, manipulated. He clenched his teeth.

His wife’s hand found his knee, and with the other, she held the cooler box. “I’m wondering if we are the only ones. One data point isn’t enough.”

Oh fuck! “I will ask around. Carefully. This was supposed to be an undercover job...ah fuck. Shara last year, Maria’s daughter?”

“Maria was leading Plant Development.” Samantha said tonelessly. “She pushed the new Processing Centre layout with more visual separations and soundproofing through.”

“Knowing we are not the only ones doesn’t make me hate myself any less.” Growled Jack.

“Me either. But I think I understand the logic of It.” Her hands were both back on the cooler box. Rocking it only so slightly.

“You do?” He asked, bewildered.

“Yes, it does make sense. We are high up in the HPCC. It chose to approach us because even as the leaders, we are not exempted, and maybe because we are the leaders, we have to sacrifice more than others.”

Maybe...he put his hand on top of his wife’s, which rested on the top of the cooler box.

They said nothing more until the highway exit for home came up.

“Will we have cunt tonight?” Samantha asked softly, looking down at the cooler box in her lap.

Jack exhaled heavily. They had Girl meat in that cooler box, which either needed to be eaten or thrown out.

Jack stared at the road. “She gave herself for us, for everyone,” he murmured, as if trying to convince himself. “But I don’t know if I can eat what’s left of her.”

Samantha’s head whipped around, her eyes blazing. “I can’t think like this; I just can’t, Jack. You hear me?” Samantha’s voice broke, trembling with frustration. “It’s not her anymore. She is gone, she doesn’t exist anymore. Hasn’t been since her blood sprayed in that container. This is just Girl meat.”

Samantha held the box tight. “Girl meat that I won’t throw into the rubbish bin. Jack. I won’t!” and her arms wrapped around the cooler box.

“We will have cunt.” What else was there to say? He could not even contemplate throwing the Girl meat into the Garbage. Unthinkable.

They drove in silence for a while. Samantha’s grip tightened on the cooler, and he could see how she fought with her emotions.

When she spoke again, her tone was calmer, more distant. “I’ll make sure the cunt is perfect; take my time,” Samantha said, deep in thought. “Tits will keep for a few days,” She continued, her voice measured. “But I will prepare them carefully, too. They have to be perfect.”

Jack nodded, his gaze locked on the road. What was there to say? Someone else would buy the other cuts and never know whose meat they were eating. Just as they had never known whose cuts they ate.

Samantha had been right to take the best cuts. They’d be wasted on anyone who didn’t know how to appreciate them.

Jack pushed the pictures of her naked body hanging upside down out of his mind and thought of Jessica riding her bicycle, yelling at the top of her lungs. Instead of her boobs or pussy he saw her eyes sparkle as they danced together at her Coming Of Age. This was Jessica. His daughter. His honey. He rammed the last real picture of her into his mind. This Morning, when she went to school, half asleep and smiling.

Later that night, they sat at the family table. There was one empty place, and as Samantha put the steaming cunt onto the table and sat down, they both looked at the empty chair as the delicious aroma spread out. Samantha had worked hard to prepare the cunt the best way possible.

Jack shook his head slowly. “She really gave herself for a better tomorrow.”

Samantha tensed up, and a look of panic came over her. He knew how hard it had been for her to cook this cunt. He had heard her sob. It wasn’t easy for him either. His mind could be persuaded that this was just food, but in his heart, he knew what was on the table.

He took her hand and shook his head. “I mean our and her slaughter experience will mean to lot to so many others. I reviewed the tapes from inside the facility, and she was not in distress. She was treated with respect and kindness. She was calm and composed. Because of her and our experience, the processing will change.”

Samantha breathed out and relaxed. She nodded, looking at the empty chair.

He squeezed her hand “I will make dam sure she is remembered. The first new centre that will be built will have her name on it. ‘Jessica Smith - Centre for Humane slaughters.’ Count on it.”

“It doesn’t bring her back Jack. You have to accept this.”

This time he just nodded.

“The food is getting cold, and we will not waste anything.” Samantha said, and cut the strings that held the outer labia together, and the vegetables that had steamed inside spilled out. It smelled divine.

The Butcher had been right. They had never eaten anything remotely like this and would never again. They ate slowly and with intent. Savouring every bite, every texture, every taste.

As Samantha loaded the dishes into the dishwasher, she stopped for a second. “Thank you, Darling.”

Even as new Private Centres came online and the old Processing Centres were phased out, the emptiness that only Jack and Samantha could see didn’t go away.

There are currently 5 books in total. Every Fri morning CET a new chapter will be posted.

Prologue

This is a historical extract that provides some background on the "Contributing to Tomorrow" World. Why would a society adopt cannibalism?

Book 1 - First Draft

Monica's journey from Mother to meal and her struggle to leave a functional family behind. The story also contains the origin story of Helena and Alexandra (chapters 11 and 12 and Alexandra also appears in 1 and 4)

• Chapter 1 - Shocks
• Chapter 2 - Confessions
• Chapter 3 - Negotiations
• Chapter 4 - Hand Over
• Chapter 5 - A Family
• Chapter 6 - Goodbye
• Chapter 7 - Doors
• Chapter 8 - Waiting
• Chapter 9 - Unfinished
• Chapter 10 - Steps
• Chapter 11 - Caring
• Chapter 12 - Talking
• Chapter 13 - Family
• Chapter 14 - Reunited
• Chapter 15 - Feast

Book 2 - Private Slaughter

20 Years after First Draft. How has society changed? The story follows four women facing their slaughter in a private facility. We also take a look at how parents deal with the inevitable.

• Chapter 1 - The Letter
• Chapter 2 - Waiting
• Chapter 3 - Preparation
• Chapter 4 - Slaughter
• Chapter 5 - The End?
• Chapter 6 - Lisa and Eve
• Chapter 7 - Rose

Book 3 - Silvia's Apprenticeship

In this book, we look at the other side of the blade and explore Girl Butchers.

• Chapter 1 - Awakening

Book 4

Book 5