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Review This Story || Author: C. A. Smith

The Society of Atreus

Part 6

Part 6

The Great Feast of Atreus was served at 7:00 p.m. Already on sensory overload, Ming Ming could barely contain herself waiting for Katie's grand entrance.

Watching the lovely redhead roast over the fire had put her into such an acute sexual frenzy that she had worn out both Carver and Roy in one of the open-doored bedrooms. Still not sated, she shucked the last vestige of her old inhibitions and wandered the grounds naked, flirting openly with everyone in sight, male and female, a veritable bitch in heat. Two girls and four men took advantage of her ravenous carnal appetite: one on a garden path under the shadow of a giant azalea, one on a couch in the great room, one in the pool under water, and three at the same time on the hard wet tiles beside the pool, plumbing and licking all three of her orifices at once as she moaned and begged for more. But it was not until the dinner gong sounded that her true craving was finally addressed.

The Dining Hall was an immense room with sand colored carpeting and walls clad in pale gold. A hockey rink could easily have fit under it's vaulted ceiling with room to spare for a tennis court. It had been located adjacent to both the kitchen and the area of the courtyard containing the roasting pit, separated from the latter by a gigantic pair of bronze doors nearly twenty feet high. In its normal “legit”mode, as Carver explained to Ming Ming, the Dining Hall served as a golden epicurean harbor dotted with white linen islands, each adorned with a candle floating in a bowl of scented water, a vase of carnations and four full sets of heavy silverware, origami napkins and long-stemmed wine glasses. But for this special Feast a space had been cleared in the center of the Hall and a dozen or so tables had been arranged in a kind of squared-off horseshoe around a large butcher-block island, with the open end of the linen-covered horseshoe facing the great bronze doors.

The eight men of the Society and their seven remaining female charges, all in evening dress appropriate to the luxurious decor, were seated around the outside of the horseshoe sipping hundred-dollar-a-bottle champagne and chatting excitedly as they waited for the ceremonial start of the Feast. Ming Ming, in the same jade chi-pao she wore when she first met Carver (she thought of it as her “lucky dress”), was nervously toying with one of the carnations from the nearest vase, enjoying the sensuous feel of the soft petals against her face, when two members of the kitchen staff, spiffily attired in fresh whites, began to push open the ponderous doors. The room fell silent as the widening portal allowed the early evening sunlight to flood in along with the first aromatic hints of deliciously roasted girl. When the doorway was fully open and the kitchen staff began its formal Banquet Procession, Ming Ming could barely breathe.

With the Head Chef leading the way, Katie was brought in on a great silver platter atop a litter draped in red velvet and carried between two assistant chefs. The Dolcett drawings that had turned Ming Ming on just a few months earlier were a pale burlesque compared to the real thing! Katie had been placed on her stomach with the spit removed and the traditional apple stuffed into her mouth. Her steaming skin had cooked to a rich, crisp bronze. It shimmered with layers of buttery basting mixed with the body fat that had bubbled through her skin. She was laid in a bed of greens and surrounded by a bountiful and colorful array of fruits and vegetables, some cooked and some fresh, sparkling with moisture. The smooth, lush contours of her back and buttocks, and the elegant tapering of her long shapely legs were a delight to behold. Her hair, uncovered now, was still the flamboyant red it had been in life and had been left in a tight bun to expose the delicate curves of her neck and shoulders. Her arms were still wired together behind her back, preserving an erotic sense of bondage further enhanced by a narrow strip of red velvet cloth that had been tied over her eyes. A fresh carrot had been inserted into her rectum, it's plume of foliage rising like the proud green tail of a fanciful pony.

The dinner guests broke into enthusiastic applause and expansive commentary, the gist being general agreement that this presentation ranked high among the Chef's mouth-watering best. Roy also received a substantial share of the accolades for having contributed “such a fine specimen of livestock.” A young blond girl (who had been licking Ming Ming's pussy and much of the rest of her body an hour earlier) couldn't resist adding, “Let's hope that she tastes as good as she looks!”

The delicately spiced fragrance of Katie's roasted flesh filled the huge room as the kitchen crew carefully rolled her off the platter and on to the butcher-block island. Face up, she was even more stunning, her figure enhanced to no small degree by spectacular breasts made even more prominent and delectably firm from the promised injections of cream and the hours of slow roasting. One of the kitchen staff released her hair from the bun and spread it out like a glorious red pillow under her head. Her face was nearly as beautiful as in life despite the seared lips and roasted skin.

“I love the little red blindfold,” Ming Ming said to Carver. “That's a nice touch. Do they always do that?”

“For live roasts, yes. When your eyeballs are exposed to prolonged heat at roasting temperature they swell up and eventually burst.”

“Oh lovely!” she said, punching his arm. “Why'd you have to tell me that?”

“Well,” he laughed, “if you want to keep your eyeballs intact, you can be slaughtered before you're cooked. Then they'll put little shields over your eyes.”

“Hmm. I'll think about it.” But her hormones were telling her that this was how she wanted to become meat. Just like Katie!

The potential of burst eyeballs faded to irrelevance, however, when the Head Chef began to slice into Katie's roasted carcass. First she opened up the belly so her assistants could lift out the stuffing and transfer it, steaming and fragrant, into bowls to be distributed around the horseshoe table. She then stripped the skin off the entire belly area and sliced Katie's abdominal muscles into small flank steaks. This exposed the interior cavity and the organs that had been left within, including the womb and vaginal canal. These she carefully excised, along with the inner and outer labia. The womb and vagina were sent into the kitchen for deep frying. The cunt lips, already crisply roasted, were set aside in a dainty dish.

Next she turned to the breasts, having left them untouched to that point for the visual enjoyment of the guests. With two efficient strokes the nipples were severed. They too were already crisp, so they were placed in the dish with the cunt lips which was presented to Roy with a ceremonial flourish. The deep fried inner parts would join them later. Katie's magnificent breasts were then sliced off and reduced to fifteen slices, a succulent morsel of the best cut of girl meat for everyone at the table.

Ming Ming saw that rather than wait out the slow process of carving up the carcass, the diners immediately attacked the portions already at hand. Accordingly, she cut off a small piece of Katie's breast meat and popped it into her mouth. It was fantastic! She closed her eyes and savored it, chewing slowly and lovingly. When she had licked the last trace of it off her lips, she glanced over at Carver (who was enjoying her rapturous reaction), then dejectedly down at her own B-cup endowment.

Carver put his hand on her knee. “I know what you're thinking,” he said. “You're comparing yours to Katie's.”

“Well, shit!” she said mournfully. “If Katie's humongous tits can only provide only fifteen little slices, these things are practically useless.”

“So I won't share them. I'll hoard them all to myself. Yours are more than enough to satisfy me.” He slid his hand up her thigh and patted her pussy for emphasis. “Besides, smaller tits have much better flavor.”

“Even better than Katie's?”

“Much better. I can hardly wait to sink my teeth into yours.”

She giggled. “Well, maybe you can practice some tonight.”

“Are you still horny?”

“Am I horny?! My dear Master , I'm ready to take off my panties and climb into your lap right now, if you want, so we can fuck between courses. Just say the word.”

He laughed. “Hold that thought. I'll save you for dessert.”

She reached under the table and grasped the hard cylindrical thing she could see pushing against his pants. “Are you sure you can wait that long, Master ?”

“Not if you don't get your hand out of there!” He slapped it away and stuck his tongue in her ear. “Behave, or I'll lock you up for a month with no sex.”

She feigned a frightened look. “All right, Master, I'll behave. But I'll only get hornier as the meal goes along. Once you get it in, you might never be able to get it out again.”

“That's a risk I'm willing to take,” he said. “Now, pay attention. The prime cuts are coming up.”

The kitchen staff had gently turned Katie back on to her ruined front and were snipping the wires binding her arms. Four assistant chefs, two on each side of the table, began carving slabs of meat off Katie's arms and legs, skin and all. The Head Chef concentrated on her buttocks, first stripping off the skin, then carving out the entire rump muscle and slicing it into thick steaks. Soon everyone's plate was loaded with delectable cuts of Katie's meat, along with a variety of sauces and vegetables to choose from, all expertly prepared and cooked to the perfection the Society demanded of its Chef.

Ming Ming selected a large slice of thigh meat and a small juicy tenderloin. The flavor was beyond anything she had ever imagined. “I could get addicted to girl meat!” she told Carver.

“I already am,” he replied.

There was more of Katie than fifteen people could reasonably eat at one sitting. That left some for the staff, plus some luncheon snacks for the next day. Ming Ming was almost delirious with enthusiasm and excitement by the time they wheeled away the carving table with what was left of Katie's carcass. And there was very little left. Only the head, hands and feet remained intact. Much of the skeleton was exposed, having been scraped bare of its meat. Even the torso had been demolished to extract the ribs and heart. Nor did the apple and carrot go to waste, both gobbled up by one of the livestock girls.

As she sipped at her dessert of creme brulee and Irish whiskey, Ming Ming absently rubbed herself against Carver, teasing his erection, but she was imagining what she would look like stretched out on the silver platter. As her mind drifted, the CEO of the Society of Atreus, a man named Jeb, rose to his feet and clinked a spoon against his glass of after-dinner brandy.

“I'm sure you'll all agree,” he boomed, squelching the residual babble of conversation, “that this has been another marvelous Feast of Atreus.” He waited out the ubiquitous round of assents. “Now it's time to look ahead to our February feast. Which of our livestock would like to volunteer to be our next marvelous entree?”

Ming Ming began to climb to her feet, but two others beat her to it. “I will!” the two called out in unison. One of them was the cute little blonde girl who had dallied with Ming Ming by the pool and questioned whether Katie would taste as good as she looked. Ming Ming seemed to recall her name was Brooke. Her competitor was a tall brunette with large brown eyes and a flawlessly sculpted face.

“Well, well!” chortled the CEO. “Looks like we have a surfeit of volunteer livestock. Would either of you like to stand down and let the other go first?”

Both girls assumed determined looks, neither speaking nor moving.

“Looks like we'll have to settle this the fun way, then. A contest. But you girls know the rules. The winner gets to be the star attraction in February with all the perks; but for the loser, it's off to the pit. So, now's the time to back out.”

But neither did.

“Very well then, you two — Brooke and Lara — will meet me in the Exercise Room in thirty minutes, along with any others who would like to witness the action.”


Review This Story || Author: C. A. Smith
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