Girl du jour

By DX

Copyrighted 12/2007 all rights reserved. Story may not be used, reproduced in any way without written consent from the Author

 Annette wanted to run away, but the straps that held her fast to the metal frame prevented that. 

 She wanted to cry for help, but the fat, red ball gag pulled tight and deep kept her pleas to only whimpering mews.

 She wanted to wake up from the nightmare she was in.

 But she couldn't.

 Because it was all real.

 She shivered in the stocks that trapped her breasts, her proud and beautiful Double G's, her Gah-Gah’s, that she used to taunt and torment the men of her office. She enjoyed her breasts. She liked the feel of them when she shrugged, as hands caressed them, sizing their roundness, their firmness. Her large, sensitive and suckable areolas could make her orgasm by just playing with them.

 In the lock of the steel stocks, her breasts were round and fat, like balls of dough.

 She was an attractive woman with sharp blue eyes, wet tar hair and soft, kissable lips. She worked to keep her waist flat and then enhanced it with a form fitting corset. Her hips and long legs propped on her four inch heels were enough to cause a car accident as she walked down the street.

 But it was her breasts that got her the looks. She liked watching the expressions of people who noticed them, liked making them a little nervous when she caught them stealing glances. She liked wondering what was crawling through their minds as they stole peeks when they thought she wasn't looking. She loved the way they gained attention when she swept into a room.

 It was one the few joys in her life recently.

 Annette had fallen on hard times and quickly amassed an astronomical debt. She struggled to pay, working long, tedious hours at three jobs, but she was slipping ever faster with no hope in sight.

 It's why she sold them; Her breasts.

 Above her head, poised over her beautiful breasts like the breath of winter, the blade hung precariously, waiting for the push of the button where its spring loaded latch would fire the blade down and with a whisper, her breasts would be gone.

 When she agreed to this, she never imagined it happening. Who could?

 She had thought things couldn't get worse. Her financial problems would just crush her, obliterate her, then he showed up at her door. Dapper and charming, he spoke quickly and confidently and his magical, almost lyrical voice lulled her.

 He said he wanted to harvest her breasts.

 He would pay off all her debts, medical costs, reconstructive surgeries and ten thousand dollars for her trouble. As a sign of good faith, he even paid off one of her credit cards, several thousand dollars.

 She blinked, lost in his words. He left her his card, asking her to think it over, before vanishing into the night. He was gone before she had realized what he had said.

 He wanted to harvest her breasts for an elite and selective club.

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Copyrighted 12/2007 all rights reserved. Story may not be used, reproduced in any way without written consent from the Author.
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A Good Wife.

By DX

Copyrighted 1997, 12/2024, all rights reserved.

 Jackie clutched her number, letting the woman behind her in line go ahead of her. She watched the butchers working, and timed their progress so that it would be Brenda to wait on her. The women behind the glass counter, their smocks stained with blood, raised and dropped their cleavers with blinding speed, and severed bone and sinew with clean, crisp cuts. 

 Jackie wondered what it would feel like lying on the cold butcher's block.

 She would soon know.

 She fished the letter out of her purse and read it again.  Her fingers felt the raised watermark and the embossed print.  By now she had memorized it.  The medical tests were final and official. She was barren. Her chances of carrying a child to term were non-existent.

 "What'll it be today?" Brenda smiled, calling her over. "We have some fine cuts of veal."

 Jackie didn't bother to look. "Can we talk?" She whispered.

 Brenda looked confused. "Sure." She whispered, not knowing why. "Come on back."

 As Jackie walked to the end of the counter, she eyed the cuts of meat and wondered if they were anyone she knew. She had mixed emotions that day long ago in high school as she stood next to Brenda and all the other girls crowding around to read the posted results. The smart girls got careers, next went vocational, then service and then meat.  Jackie was meat, but she also tested as fertile, a rare trait, and she tested high enough so that she wouldn't simply be cattle. She was sold to a loving husband, with hopes to bear his children. Hopes that dashed with the arrival of the letter that said there had been an error in her first test, and subsequent testing were not positive.

 Brenda lead her to the back room. "So what's with all the whispering?" Brenda whispered.

 Jackie showed her the letter. "I need a favor."

 Brenda read the letter slowly, her lips moving as she did.

 Jackie jumped to the gist. "I can't have kids." Brenda looked confused, not understanding. "I'm useless as a wife and Brian won't take me back to the agency."

 "Why not?"

 "The clod loves me." She moaned, loving him for it. "But the problem is we can't afford to get another wife. We can't even afford me. And Brian wants a son so badly."

 "That and the government check." Brenda pointed out knowing about the government subsidies for any household raising a male child. An important fact in a world where women out numbered the males 21 to 4.

 The planet could not support its 9.5 billion residents. The oceans were dead, polluted beyond recovery. The topsoil had blown away because of over development and excessive farming. Agricultural terrorists took care of what was left, leaving billions of people with only one thing to eat.

 Humans.

 Believing that Men were the root of all problems, feminist radicals released a virus into the air that killed only men, and made births of male children next to impossible; leaving Women to rule a ruined world, with the only solution to quell the starving, riotous population, was to eat them. 

 Women became cattle, milked, and breed, and slaughtered.

 "Here's my plan." Jackie confided. "I'm going to save all of our food allowance until I have enough to buy Brian a new wife."

 Brenda's brow furrowed as she thought. "But then, if you don't buy food, what will you eat?"

 Jackie lifted the hem of her skirt showing her long, shapely leg. "I need you to do me a favor..."

 "You can't be serious!" Brenda gasped.

 "Brian needs a wife to take care of him and bear him a son. I will take care of him until the new wife arrives."

 Brenda ran the plan though her mind. "You mean you want to do this in parts?"

 "I know you can do it. You're the best butcher in the county. You can make me last long enough so that Brian won't be alone before the new wife arrives. He can't care for himself.  It's illegal."

 "But Jackie..." Brenda protested. "I'm not that good. A new fertile wife costs so much. It’s impossible!"

 "Then get me as close as you can. Brenda, right now, legally, I’m meat.”  She held up the letter.  “I no longer have rights as a person.  I’m only sitting here because the State hasn’t the staff to come pick me up.  And if they did, I'd only end up here, or worse, a processing plant.”  A tear rimmed her eye.  “I’m meat.  It’s all I'm qualified for. In the time I have, I want to see Brian get a new wife. I want to give him something special for being the guy he is."

 Brenda chewed her lip. "Okay." She agreed reluctantly. "Wait here. We close in a half hour, we can do it then."

 Jackie felt tears welling in her eyes. "Thank you."

 Brenda turned away, plodding back to her counter as Jackie found herself a seat. Jackie stared down at her legs. Beautiful, shapely twins. She drew an imaginary line a few inches above her right knee.

 "Excuse me, Ma'am?"

 Jackie was startled by the little voice calling to her. She looked up, surprised to see a wall of women, fresh from their graduation. They were naked, bound at the feet and wrists with a leash about their necks to hold them against the wall. They huddled together not for cold, but for shame.

 Jackie suddenly realized that although she had been a wife for only a short time, she had come to regard meat as inanimate objects. For one to address her was not only illegal, but really weird.

 "Excuse me." The dark haired girl at the end spoke. "I couldn't help but overhear. You’re really going to have yourself cut up slowly? I mean, you don't have to."

 "I love my husband." Was Jackie's only defense.

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A Perfect Meal.

By Dx

Copyrighted 1997, 11/2024 all rights reserved.

 The quiet and delicate air of the pre-morning dawn was roused brutally awake by the growling propane engine of the old bus as it accelerated on grinding gears away from its stop.  Its sound, its warmth faded quickly into the dim blue light and into memory.

 Elsa stood beneath the salmon glow of the gas light, until the last of the mistuned engine droned away, before turning east to face the blushing sky. Her thin flowery sundress tickled her bare knees as the chilling wind swept around her. She checked her instructions on the card they gave her, matching the symbols on the card to the sign standing next to her. Elm St. Go east on Elm St.

 She paced her walk, not wanting to arrive sweaty or harried. As the sun slipped from the horizon, Elsa bowed her head, keeping her apple cheeks beneath the shade of her sun hat. Her heart was building with anxiety and she found it was motivating her to hurry. But she resisted the temptation. First impressions are best impressions, and she wanted to be perfect. After all, who would want to eat tired looking food?

 The power of the dawning sun filled the houses of the cul-de-sack with yellow light and Elsa had to check the mail boxes of each one, matching the symbols to her card. When it matched exactly, she walked up the grey cobblestone to the front door.

 She slipped her card into her purse and straightened her dress before handling the gold door knocker, sparkling with sunlight, and rapped on the door.

 She hopped she wasn't too early. She wanted to see the process from start to finish, and help if possible, since it would be her first and last opportunity.

 Her breath lifted into her throat and stuck there as the door silently, smoothly slipped open.

 The woman stood at the door, her curly red hair like burning fire in the glare of the sun. Her strong handsome face was offset by her delicate bow lips, kissable and inviting. Her eyes of green and gold roved casually over Elsa's face. "Yes?"

 Elsa stood with her mouth agape, taken by the moment, the attractiveness of her host, and in her nervousness of her first impression, she forgot her spiel. "Um," She said.

 The woman smiled. "You must be Elsa."

 Elsa remembered her manners and closed her mouth, nodding her answer. "Yes ma'am." She said with a quick curtsy. "My name is Elsa and I'm from the Butchery. I'll be your dinner." She felt the words awaken in her memory. "I am U.S.D.A. inspected and graded prime A whole. I am appro...appre...uh" She felt the words slipping in her head. "I'm a good for roasting, boiling grilling, spitting or butcher." She smiled having remembered. "Oh, and I make great leftovers."

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Copyrighted 1997, 11/2024 all rights reserved.