r/dolcett_fantasy

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.

“You’re a chicken 🐔 you won’t do it”
I read the message from girlfriend Melissa who was away on a family vacation. She’s right, it’s been my biggest fantasy and I’m too chicken to act it out. I see the chat box as she is typing
“If you get rejected, me and my mom will snuff you when we are back” *inserts picture of her mom giving a thumbs up*
“Ok, I’ll do it I’ve got nothing to lose” I reply
“😘😘 good luck” was the last message Melissa sent me.

I walk out of my room and strip off my clothes, after all meat doesn’t need clothes. I walk down the stairs enjoying the swinging motion of my balls and cock with each step. I get to the living room and hear chitchat. My Anunty Amander was visiting. This wouldn’t be too awkward being naked infornt of her we have been lovers since I turned 18, she infact took my virginity as a 18th birthday present. I was nervous being naked infront of my mom. I’ve had so many fantasies of fucking her that I was too sacred to act on, I couldn’t take that kind of rejection. Every time I fucked and snuffed a girl i invisioned it was my Mom.

I walk in mid conversation, feeling bold, excited and extremely turned on. My Aunty just looks at me and gives a seductive smile. My mom spits her tea out “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING”. Suddenly my boldness leaves my body but my cock stays hard. I try and cover up “I….i… was….. just…” I couldn’t get my words out. My Aunt gets up and hugs me from behind, her DD breats pressing on my back “sis give him time to explain” she says as she strokes my hard dick. My Mom sits there stern faced, her arms folded under her massive tits almost pushing them out her top. I gulp “ I just want to ask if, well now we have that new oversize oven, I was wondering, well, you know, maybe you could roast ME in it, and then eat me…. Alive” that was difficult to get out of my mouth “sorry” I say and go to leave the room. My aunty grabs my hand and pulls me back in to the living room. She nibbles my ear “why don’t you try harder to convince her” my mom just looks up at her knowing and gives a wicked smile. She leans back and spreads her legs exposing her plump pussy “yea, what are you going to do for me” she says.

I get on my knees as my mom lifts the hem of her skirt. I lick her lower leg, dragging my tongue up to her thighs where I kiss and nibble her inner thighs. I can smell her sweet scent as my mouth encloses round her pussy. My tongue explores her wet hole, I suck at her swollen clit and taste her juices. Her legs tighten around my head as she gets wetter ready to climax “oh baby I’m cuming, keep going” she pants as she shakes in orgasm and fills my mouth with her sweet nectar. She stands me up and grabs my cock “let’s get this meat boy into the oven” and leads my to the kitchen holding my cock.

She takes off her little dress exposing her chubby body and FF tits, her thighs are thick, belly is round and rump
Is tender. I drool at her body, maybe I made a mistake being cooked before I got a chance to eat some of her. She motions with her hand to sit up on the sliding oven tray. She rubs oil on my legs, deeply in my thighs like she’s massagging me. Her hands explore my body with oil. She then goes to my sausage and puts it in her mouth. She sucks my cock like a pro, it feels so good. I’m already sensitive so the pleasure is heightened. She sucks and licks all round my cock till I swell up and explode in her mouth. She looks at me and smiles “you taste nice raw, can’t wait to taste you cooked” she gives me a kiss before sliding me in the pre heated oven.

The heat is intense, every breath fills my lungs with hot air. I look out the glass window and see my mom and aunty 69ing on the dining table. Some how I get an erection, if my hands wasn’t tied up this would be the ultimate wank. After 45 mins I’m pulled out the oven. My skin is turning brown, the aroma of cooking meat is even making me hungry. I feel a stinging pain in my thigh as my mom pokes me with a fork and juice runs out. She prods my muscular chest “a little longer”. I’m slid back in for another 20 mins. The heat is dying down and I realise my nerve endings are dead, I’m feel dizzy and tired. I can’t hold out much longer I hope they don’t over cook me.

I’m slid back out the oveen and placed on the table where they 69ed a few moments earlier. What a sexy thought, getting eaten where they had sexual pleasure. My mom drags a carving knife up my body “are you still with us honey?” She asks. I barely nod my head and give her a weak smile. My aunty is taking pictures of my body to put on her social media accounts.

My mom slices a steak sized chunk of meat off my inner thigh. She stands by me and starts to eat me, making sure I can see her take every bite. My aunty puts my foot in her mouth and starts to bite off toes and eat the meat off my foot “wow sis your son is so tasty, we should of done this earlier” my mom nods as she bites into my arm. This is bliss watching these two sexy women eat me. I look down and my mom approaches my cock with a knife “I’ve been looking forward to this”. Like an expert butcher she slices around my pubic area freeing my cock and balls. She sits down with them in her hand. She licks my dick like a lollipop before biting off my thick cock head. What a sexy sight, my juices of my meat covering her large breasts making them glisten as she eats my cock. My aunty comes over and takes a bite “wow he was a good fuck but better meat” my mom finishes my cock “I wish he made some moves, I’ve all ways wanted to fuck him” she says as she starts to eat one of my balls.

I’m about to fade as my mom brings a slice of my meat to mouth. She puts it in and I mange to chew before I fade away “your last meal sweety” was the last words I heard before I died in bliss.

Giuliana had a bad feeling about the restaurant when she saw the waiter at the entrance. He was short, his skin had a greenish tinge and she could have sworn his teeth were pointed when he smiled at her. But she wasn’t afraid of creepy guys drooling over her, she was wearing heels and a tight pink dress that showed off her thick curves, she wanted a little attention tonight. This place had just opened up and it was supposed to be the best in town. Giuliana’s friend Ashley had asked her to go last weekend but she ended up stuck late at work and Ashley went by herself. Giuliana hadn’t heard her review yet but she wanted to try it out anyway. Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t heard from Ashley at all since that evening.

She followed the suspiciously short and suspiciously green waiter and got seated at her table for one.

“I’ll be back shortly with your refreshments" he said with another toothy grin, like it was some joke Giuliana wasn’t in on. She watched him head into the kitchen and noticed how strange the rest of the restaurant was. The lights were low so everything was hard to make out, not that it mattered because she didn't even have a menu! The guests were all odd looking, some huge and hulking or short like the waiter but all had strange skin tones and smelt awful. The food they were eating was weird too. Huge roasts on big silver platters or hanging on spits and it appeared meat was the only thing available. It was too dark to tell exactly what kind of animal it was but Giuliana felt her stomach turn. She got up and headed toward a washroom sign. Maybe this late night dinner alone was a bad idea. Giuliana could feel eyes on her thick cheeks as they jiggled with each step. As she followed the sign down a dark hallway, she heard what almost sounded like moaning and muffled screams coming from a door marked ‘Staff Only.’ She bit her lip and peered back to the dining room. Nobody was watching. Letting curiosity get the better of her, Giuliana pushed the door open a crack revealing the kitchen on the other side. She gasped in shock at what she saw. The entire kitchen was being run by goblins and ogres! She knew something was off about that waiter, and the clientele of this place… this restaurant was a front for a girlmeat operation! There were thick, busty women in various states of preparation everywhere. She saw tightly bound girls on pans waiting for their turn in the oven, their mouths packed with apples. She watched as a goblin rubbed oil into the meaty ass of a milf tied up on a metal table, her pitiful moans and groans thoroughly gagged by the fruit jammed between her teeth. Satisfied with his work, he slapped her ass and rang a bell nearby.

“Order up!” he called and turned to the next girl. Two more goblins ran up and took each end of the pan the milf was on, quickly carting her to the other end of the kitchen where an open oven waited. A door at the back of the kitchen caught her attention as it swung open and several more goblins marched in, pulling more bound women by rope leashes around their necks. They were all naked except for bags cinched over their heads and each had a letter grade painted on their breasts.

“More girls, freshly kidnapped from all across town…” Giuliana whispered to herself. This was bad. Very much in over her head, she slowly backed up, closing the door again as gently as possible.

“Looking for something ma’am?” a voice suddenly said from behind her. Spinning around, she saw the waiter standing there with a sneer on his face, blocking the hallway out. “Um nope, just looking for the washroom but uh, it’s down there so I’ll just be going…” she said anxiously and turned to flee.

“I don’t think so, miss,” the goblin said and put a hand on each of her wobbly ass cheeks, shoving her through the kitchen door. With a few stumbling steps, Giuliana found herself in the middle of the kitchen floor with a dozen sets of hungry eyes on her.

“Uh hello,” she said, “I must have made a wrong turn.”

In a matter of seconds, a team of green skinned chefs swarmed her, tearing at her dress, groping and spanking her ass and thoroughly roping her up. Quickly stripped naked, they began kneading her thick ass and breasts as they rubbed marinade over every inch of her skin.

“Hey what the hell are you doing? Let me g-” she began before her legs went out front beneath her and two more goblins hoisted her bound body onto their shoulders. Placed on a metal preparation table, Giuliana watched a much taller goblin approach.

“Peeking in on my kitchens eh?” he said with a smirk, “well we can't have that and we certainly won't be wasting a prime roast like yourself.” He gave her ass cheek a squeeze and pulled her ankles up.

“Let me go please, I won’t say anything about this place,” Giuliana pleaded, “just untie me and- owwww!” The hobgoblin yanked her ankles and wrists together in a strict hogtie and tied her hair back to her toes, forcing her to keep her chin up.

“That hurts you asshole!” she whined. The hobgoblin grabbed her chin and stuck his thumb in her mouth, prying it open.

“Open wide,” he said with a smile, before cramming an apple as far back between her teeth as it could go.

“Mpphhh, pllghh,” she moaned through the gag, her jaw already aching from the strain. All she could do was glare at her captor, his smug face making the situation all the more infuriating.

“Chef Gorn, take care of our curious guest here for me please,” he said, gesturing to someone behind her. Her anger quickly turned to fear as Giuliana watched an ogre chef approach holding a massive meat cleaver. Her eyes went wide and she shook her head “please no,” whimpering through the apple gag. The hobgoblin only chuckled and gave her rump another good hard slap.

“Bye bye bitch!” he said as he walked away laughing. Giuliana's fate was sealed, she could only wait until her turn for the oven. If only she had read the reviews first.

Thanks for reading! This is my first quick little story in a fun modern fantasy setting I’m working on. It’s a little campy but let me know if you enjoy!