Aprille

Chapter 4

When Werner showed up at Aprille's room at the appointed time next morning, bleary from too much sex the night before, he was taken aback to see her sitting at the edge of her bed, hugging River and rocking her gently back and forth as the raven haired beauty wept uncontrollably.

"What's happening?" he blurted. "What's the matter with River?"

Aprille looked up at him, her eyes blurred with tears and despair. "She's been activated."

Werner felt a hammer blow of shock. "Activated? How can that be?"

"Her latest fertility test came back negative. It says she . . ." Aprille paused to swallow and regain her composure. "It says her ova are, quote, generally too fragile to survive the trauma of conception. End quote. They've reclassified her as M1 and activated her. She's to report this morning."

"So soon? Why? What's the big rush?"

"Someone at tonight's banquet bought an option on her. One of her regulars."

"One of her regulars?"

"Yeah. He picked her out of the catalog five months ago and has been seeing her ever since."

"What catalog?"

"The video catalog on the Musgrave website. All Ones are on display there. They make videos of us so customers can order a Pleasure Girl or live meat. Or they can get certified as studs if they want to bang B girls, which is what this guy did. And when he found out she was getting close to her fertility deadline, he bought a year's purchase-option on her. The instant she was reclassified as meat, he bought her. He wants her live spitted for the party tonight."

"Do they sell options on all the brood girls?"

"Oh yeah. One of my regular studs says if I'm not pregnant by my tenth month, he's taking out an option on me. If I don't make the grade as a Brooder, he gets the first chance to buy me on a spit."

"How long will he have to exercise the option?"

"Forty-eight hours from notification that I've been reclassified. Then I'm up for grabs."

"But didn't you girls tell me you look forward to being spitted?"

River suddenly bolted upright, her eyes filled with tears and rage. "I was looking fucking forward to having babies, not being dead!" she yelled, then as suddenly shrank into herself. "I'm sorry!" she pleaded. "Please don't report me for that! They'll fucking D me, for sure!" She put her face into her hands and wept noisily.

"Please, Herr Richter," Aprille echoed. "She didn't mean to yell at you. She's just very upset. Please don't report her! They'll spit her and cook her without any O-drugs. You can't begin to imagine the pain. I saw a girl go through it once; it was the worst thing I've ever seen. The poor girl was . . . Oh please, Herr Richter, please, please don't do that to River!" Now Aprille was crying as well.

"It's all right," he said, stroking both girls' heads. "I'm not reporting anything. I'm sorry I upset you, River. This is obviously a tough situation for you. I guess knowing it's going to happen one day, and having it actually happen, are two very different things. I'm terribly sorry that you'll never get to have your babies."

She answered him in a voice so tiny he could barely make it out. "Thank you, Sir. I'll be all right. I'll be good."

He sat down on the other side of her and put an arm around her shoulder. "When do you have to report, River?"

"Twenty minutes," she sniffed.

"Would you like us both to walk you over? Or would you rather go alone, or with just Aprille?"

"Both of you," she whispered. "Thank you." And she crumpled into another weeping jag.

"Come on, sweetie," urged Aprille. "You have to shower. Then we'll all go over together. It won't be so bad. Remember how great that O-high was?"

She pulled her sniffling roommate off the bed and down the hall to the showers. Ten minutes later both she and Werner held her hands as they made the long walk to the same gray building they had visited the day before. She was deathly pale as they entered through a different door from the one that led to the observation booth. Werner was afraid she would faint, but she managed to stay upright as they reached the sign-in counter. River touched her bracelet to a pad. Her name, age, serial number, classification, grade, activation time and photo instantly appeared on a large screen. The counter was attended by a woman in her late thirties or early forties with a diamond tattooed on her forehead. She directed River to take a seat among a dozen other girls who had arrived before them.

Aprille approached her and explained that Werner was a special guest of the Company and she was his escort. After a brief phone conversation with a superior, the woman told them they could stay during the initial prepping, but they would have to go the observation room during the spitting. "Only disinfected personnel are allowed in the spitting room," she explained. "It's to protect the product from contamination. I'm sure you appreciate, Sir, that our customers would not want to be presented with sick roasters. We have a reputation to protect of delivering only the highest quality food products."

She gave Aprille a large stick-on badge, a red circle with a diagonal slash through it. "This is so our technicians won't mistake you for one of the activated girls," she said.

Werner and Aprille sat in the back row to await the last few arrivals. Werner was astonished at how truly beautiful every girl in the room was, even the woman at the desk. Aprille identified her to him as a forty-one year old brooder who was pregnant but had just recently been downgraded from B1 to B2. When the lock on the entrance door finally clicked into place, he counted fifteen girls.

The two burly technicians he had seen spitting the M2's yesterday came into the room carrying small cases.

"Okay girls," one of them said, "stand up and strip. Give your clothes and shoes to Angelia and then sit back down."

They all stood up without enthusiasm and slowly pulled off their clothes. The woman at the desk had come around the counter and began collecting the discarded dresses, tops, skirts and shoes. No one had bothered with underwear. As they sat down again, the two technicians opened their cases. They were loaded with syringes filled with a pink fluid. The two men began at opposite corners of the room, jabbing syringes into exposed upper arms and pumping their contents into the smooth young flesh. Even as the last drops were squeezed out, each girl became visibly more relaxed. By the time all fifteen had been injected, the first half dozen were masturbating and moaning softly.

"That stuff really works!" Werner whispered.

"God, yes! I wish they'd give some to me!" She started to tear off her sticker.

He slapped his hand hard on hers and held it down. "Stop it! What are you doing?"

She stared at him, her eyes projecting some inner frenzy. "We have to leave! Quickly! Please!"

He stood up and pulled her hastily to the locked door, signaling to Angelia at the desk. She smiled lazily and unlocked it.

When they were safely outside, he pinned Aprille to the wall. "What the hell was that about?"

Her eyes teared up. "I'm sorry. That stuff is extremely addictive. I can't be around it like that. If we'd stayed in there, I would have volunteered for spitting just to get the dose. I'm sorry."

"Jesus!" he spat. "How do they give you your regular dosage if you act like that around it?"

"In our food. The normal doses are measured out in the meals they give us. It's only the massive doses they inject." She began to shiver.

"You going to be all right?"

"Just give me a few more minutes. I apologize. Please forgive me. I know I must look stupid."

"You look lovely, as always. But how can you show people this procedure if you can't control yourself?"

"I've never actually been there in that room, where they do that. I know about all this stuff because it's part of our education here. We see pictures and read about it, but I've never been in the actual prep area and I didn't think just seeing those loaded syringes again would have such an effect on me."

"That Angelia woman doesn't seem tempted by it."

"She's pregnant. She knows they won't give it to her."

"So what happens next?"

"They clean out the alimentary canal."

"What do you mean?"

"It's pretty gross. Sure you want to see it?"

"I'm not sure I want you to go back in there."

"I think I'm okay now. But thank you for your concern. You're a lovely man."

He didn't know how to react to being called lovely , and he was not convinced it was wise to bring her back in there.

"You're not going to throw yourself on a spit or anything?"

She laughed, that pretty bubbling laugh he'd come to love. "No. They've put the needles away by now. As long as I don't see it, I'm okay."

"Would they actually have accepted you as a volunteer?"

"Absolutely. They prefer volunteers to conscripts any day. Happy meat is better meat! Right?"

"But who'd pay for you?"

"They'd send one of the others back. Girls do that quite often: offer themselves as a substitute for a friend."

"So you could have taken River's place."

"No, she was ordered specifically. Most girls are just generic M1's. Pretty females on a spit."

"How long does that big dose of O last?"

"Three or four hours. They'll inject them again just before they're mounted over the fire. It's such a delicious way to go."

"So by now River is in seventh heaven?"

"At this point she doesn't care what they do to her. The more pain she suffers, the more glorious the orgasms. There's no way to explain it so it makes sense."

"So let's go back and watch them cleanse alimentaries, or whatever."

The door to the room had been left unlocked. "They won't try to run now," Aprille explained. "All they want is more O."

The last of the fifteen girls was being herded into an adjoining chamber filled with three rows of padded vertical slabs about 2 ½ feet wide by 6-feet tall by 18-inches thick, ten slabs to a row. Each slab stood inside a U-shaped frame, the top of the U coming to the mid-point of the slab and serving as a rotation axis. The two techies were opening up the slabs, which turned out to be more like beds with padded lids hinged on one side. The center of the bed part had a large round cut-out like a toilet opening. The top side, the lid, was shorter than the bottom side.

Each girl was backed up to the opened bed, which was then flipped to horizontal and locked in place. The girl was pulled up so that her butt was centered over the toilet hole and the lid was lowered down over her, clamping her entire body in place. The lid ended just above the nascent swell of her breasts so that her face was not covered. Then at a press of a button, to his amazement, the beds began to fold up until the girls were doubled up into a position close to fetal. Now the beds looked more like chairs that were intent on eating their occupants. The chairs were rotated so that the shapely asses were pointing up at about 45-degrees. Transparent pipes the length of each row lowered from the ceiling. Clear plastic hoses ending with enema nozzles dangled from the pipes. The two men went up and down the rows of girls plugging the nozzles into their upraised rectums and opening the spigots. When the last nozzle was installed, another button was pushed. Water rushed into the overhead pipe, down the hose tubes and into the fifteen waiting intestinal tracts. Within seconds the girls began to moan but the water continued to force its way into their distressed bellies. They were moaning and pleading for mercy when the water flow ended with the clunk of a distant valve. The glass pipe rose swiftly up, pulling out all the nozzles at once and the chairs immediately rotated so that the fifteens bottoms were pointing toward funnels which had risen beneath the chairs. Liquid fecal matter poured out of the helpless girls and disappeared into the funnel openings. There was a brief, strong odor that was soon swept away by a vigorous air exchange system.

While the girls were in this position, the technicians, joined by Angelia and the naked assistant from yesterday, began strapping small ball gags into each girl's mouth. The pipe and hoses had lowered again. This time the nozzles were removed and the ends of the plastic hoses inserted into a hole in the ball gags. The water came back on, this time forcing the girls to swallow or gag. They swallowed. And swallowed. And swallowed. Werner estimated that each girl must have taken in nearly a quart of water. When the hoses were pulled from their mouths, the gags were removed and the girls flipped into the ass-up position. Most of them immediately began to vomit up the water as the nozzles were returned to their rectums. Those who did not vomit right away did so as their guts refilled with a second tide of warm, soapy water. After that they received a third enema — this one resulting in a clear outflow — but no more stomachs full of water.

"Told you it was gross," Aprille whispered.

"On the contrary," Werner muttered. "It was fascinating."

The next stop for the girls was a shower where they received a thorough scrubbing. Werner made it a point to look closely at River to see how she was holding up. She seemed to be as happily muzzy and unconcerned as all the others, limply submitting herself to the lather and scrub brushes. No attempt was made to coif the hair. It was simply tied up in a bun by the four attendants. Werner knew why, of course. Hair burns, so it's covered with foil before the roasting begins. No point to waste time on a beautiful hairdo. If there's any pubic hair (and most of these girls had been shaved bare) it's singed off in the heat of the fire.

The next stop for the girls and their attendants was the disinfecting chamber. Angelia politely reminded Werner and his escort that they were not allowed beyond this room and were directed to the observation deck to watch the spitting and shipping process. Werner had a sudden perverse urge to throw a little weight.

"Are you aware of who I am, Ma'am?"

The woman lost a little of her cool. "Well, ah . . . not exactly, Sir. I was told you are a Class R visitor and Class R visitors are not allowed in the spitting area. Have I offended you, Sir?"

"What is your classification?"

"B2-T, Sir." A look of fright came into her eyes. "I apologize for offending you, Sir. How may I make it up to you, Sir?"

"B2-T. That means you're on probation, does it not? You can always be downclassed to M, can't you Angelia?"

She put her hands over her mouth and backed away.

"At your age that could mean M3 or M4, could it not? Oven or chuck?"

Aprille looked stricken at Werner's sudden turn to bullying, but kept her mouth shut.

Angelia looked terrified. "Please, Sir!" she stammered. "Let me fix things! I'm so sorry I offended you. Please, Sir!"

"I want to know why I'm not allowed to be disinfected along with those two big lummoxes and that other girl so I can go out and see the action up close."

"I don't know! I only do what I'm told! Please don't have me downclassed, Sir. I know I'm good for at least three or four more babies. And I make real good babies, Sir. Pretty and well shaped and good tasting."

"Werner." Aprille was tugging delicately at his sleeve. "Please."

"What?" He transferred his glare to her.

She recoiled a little and wrung her hands.

"What?" he repeated, but softly this time, caressing her with his voice. "What were you going to say?"

"Please don't . . . please don't frighten her, Sir. She wasn't being mean to us. She has to do what she's told, just like I do. Just like River did. Please, Sir? There's not much to see out there, Sir. It will be more comfortable for you in the observation room. Please, Sir."

All the fight drained out of him. He didn't really want to terrify the pretty but aging woman who was already scared because she was nearing the end of her fertility. He didn't really want to watch River being spitted. He certainly didn't want to upset this sweetly brave girl who — although knowing he could destroy her for it — interceded on her pregnant colleague's behalf. All he really wanted to do was pick her up and carry her to the nearest bed. He sighed and turned back to the quailing Angelia.

"Don't worry, I won't say anything about you to anyone, Angelia, except to say you were doing your duty, and doing it well. I was out of line. I'm sorry if I frightened you. We'll go up to the observation room now."

"Thank you, Sir," she whispered, her color beginning to return.

As they stood at the window waiting for the sanitized girls to be led out, Werner asked, "Do you really want to stay and watch this? River is your friend."

"That's why I want to be here, if you'll let me stay, Sir. I promised River I'd be here for her and again when she's roasted. She'll be looking for me. Please don't make me let her down."

"You want to watch as she's roasted?"

"We were scheduled to be at that banquet, anyway. It means a lot to her that we'll be there to see her off."

"But what if they serve her at our table?"

"I'm going to see to it that they do. I promised her."

"My God! You want to eat your own friend?"

"Of course. Some day they'll cook me, too. When they do, I'd be honored if you ate me. That way I'd be in you and part of you forever."

"I don't know what to say to that!"

"Well let me say this. First, I want to make lots of babies so I'll still be around for years and years and we can fuck whenever you're in the area. If you want to, I mean. But when my time comes and I'm just meat again, I can't think of a more beautiful place to end up than in your body."

"You make it sound so . . . natural."

"Would you, when the time comes? If you still have any feelings for me, I mean. Would you merge my body with yours forever?"

"Eat you?" Eating strangers was one thing. Eating a girl you've come to love struck him as outrageous!

"Yes. It would be the most beautiful honor you could bestow. I'd always be part of you."

"If that idea actually makes you happy, yes, I'd do it. But lots of fucking first, right?"

"Lots and lots."

They were still kissing, their hands on each other's sex, when the first two girls were led out. One of them was River. Aprille stiffened.

"Please, may I hold you like this while we watch?" She tightened her grip on him through his pants. "And would you keep your hand on me down there, too?"

"Works for me," he said, trying to concentrate on the scene below.

Neither of the first two girls were cuffed or restrained in any way, although the girls lining up behind them had their hands cuffed behind their backs. The technician assigned to River guided her by the elbow to the nearer table and turned her around, backing her up to it. She looked up at Werner and Aprille in the window and gave them a blurry smile as she climbed up on the table and laid down, face up. The technician adjusted her position so that her head hung down off one end. He placed her feet in stirrups at the other end and secured them in place with binding tape. Straps were used to bind her knees to the table legs to spread her thighs. He threw a leather belt over her hips and another just above her breasts and under her arms, cinching them both down tight. He pulled each arm down beside the adjacent table leg and tied her wrists to the bottom rung of the legs. Next he gathered her long black hair, threaded it between the jaws of a bar clamp and screwed the jaws tightly together; then tied the clamp to the same rung, forcing her head backwards. Although the position made it impossible for her to close her mouth, he inserted a dental mouth-spreader and forced it open even wider.

She rolled her eyes over to the window high on the wall beside her and locked them on Aprille; but she could neither grimace from the obviously painful stresses of her position, nor smile in her drugged pleasure of it.

The technician rolled the train of organ receptacles to a spot he could reach conveniently and picked up a scalpel. With the grace of long practice he drew the same long incision from sternum to pubis that the other man had cut in yesterday's carcasses. Only this time blood bubbled out the length of the cut. The naked girl materialized as if by magic with absorbing materials to mop the blood away as the technician spread open River's abdomen. A green smocked surgeon appeared with an electrical cauterizing gun and deftly stopped most of the bleeding. He handed the gun to the technician and, as the girl held the two halves of abdominal skin apart, began quickly lifting out the long ropes of intestines, slicing them off at the anus and the stomach. The cauterizing gun quickly sealed each new cut as organ after organ was removed until only the heart, lungs and a few other items remained — just enough to keep her alive as long as needed. Werner could now see the plastic tube suspended in mid-cavity between the pelvic area and the thorax.

Then came the spit. The technician inserted it between River's labia and began pushing and twisting it into her. The surgeon reached into the empty cavity and guided it to the ring at the end of the tube. A machine was rolled between her legs, the spit locked into it at the appropriate angle and the machine began slowly and steadily to screw it through the length of the tube. Werner watched in fascination as the tube swelled to five times its size to accommodate the advancing skewer, like a snake swallowing a post. When the point reached her neck, the surgeon helped guide it to the proper position for boring into River's trachea. As it emerged from her mouth and she went into obvious respiratory distress, he cut a hole in her throat and implanted a plastic breathing vent. Her breathing returned to normal. Werner replayed in his mind the silky texture of her voice and secretly mourned that it was now lost forever.

Throughout the procedure, River's face contorted grotesquely and her body bucked ineffectually against her restraints. Werner couldn't tell whether these convulsions were the result of pain or orgasms, but Aprille kept assuring him that the massive infusion of O-drugs made every sensation a source of breathtaking orgasms. He hoped she was right.

The technicians taped River's belly shut, wired her knees and ankles to the spit, lifted her spit to the trestles, wired her wrists behind her back. They carried her, face down, into the waiting truck. Her spit was placed on a lower rack. She'd have a nice view of the floor from now until her delivery to the banquet site.

Werner had had enough. "Let's go," he said. "I don't want to see any more of this."

"Thank you for holding me," Aprille said, putting her hand over his on her crotch. "It helped. It reminds me that River is enjoying these last hours, no matter what it may look like. Even with the tiny dose of O they give me, your hand on my cunt makes my whole body ripple with little orgasms. I remember what the larger dose was like when they implanted the tube. God, it was spectacular!"

"Will they give her more before they put her in the pit?"

"They're supposed to. This dose will start to wear off. I hope they wouldn't let her suffer. Now, where would you like to go next?"

"What's left?"

"The kitchens, the classes, the training rooms, the rec rooms. You want to see how we teach young boys from the community the fine art of good sex?"

"No. I want you to teach me the fine art of good sex."

"I thought you'd never ask. Come with me."

She took his hand and led him at a brisk pace out of the building and across an expanse of the campus to a long brick building that was tall enough to have two floors, but had only a single level of tall arched windows. It turned out to be an Olympic sized indoor pool. She immediately began to unbutton his shirt. He took the hint and slipped her own single-piece dress over her head, leaving her naked except for her heels. She kicked them off as she got to work on his pants. She kissed and licked and nipped at his skin as she exposed it, then knelt down and licked his feet and toes as she stripped off his shoes and socks.

Without warning she jumped up and dove into the water, resurfacing at mid pool.

"Don't tell me you can't swim," she chided.

In one stride Werner bounded to the edge of the pool and leaped out into the water, swimming furiously. In a second he was on top of her, shoving her under the surface and pinching at her nipples. She retaliated by grabbing his cock and pulling herself between his legs to suck his testicles into her mouth. But that backfired when he pushed her head more forcefully against him. Suddenly she was desperate to breathe, so she spat out his balls, wiggled out of his grip and shot to the surface to gulp air.

"Let's see how you like it!" he challenged, and dove between her legs, clamping his mouth over her vulva and pushing his tongue rudely into her, wagging it about inside. He felt her leg muscles tense without moving and tasted the nectar that flowed from her love slot into the cool water of the pool. He kept up his delicious torment, feeling her body twitching with successive orgasms, until the need for air drove him to the surface again.

"O my God!" she said. "If I pass out, will you save me?"

"If I save you, will you fuck me till I go blind?"

"Wait here!" She swam briskly to the side of the pool, popped out of the water and trotted to a wall cabinet from which she extracted two diving tanks with mouth pieces. She checked the gauges then ran back to the pool and jumped in with both.

"Take one," she said, tossing it to him. She strapped hers on and plopped the mouthpiece in her mouth. Werner did the same. No concern about sanitary conditions here, he thought. Nor did he care. Only the golden, wet sex goddess before him meant anything now.

She dove under him and disappeared. He dove after her and found her waiting on the bottom at the deepest end. She spread her legs and beckoned to him. He swam toward her, his speed impeded only a little by the drag from his erection. Just as he reached her, she flipped under him, came up behind him and rubbed her body upward along his back. He twisted quickly to face her and found her right tit in his eye. Seizing her lithe body and pulling it to him, he spat out the mouthpiece and suckled on the tit while her fingers dug into his scalp. She was doing something with her legs. What was she doing? She was scissoring them, scissoring his erection, bringing him to the precipice. He switched to the other tit for a while until he had to go back to the mouthpiece for air. Then he grabbed both her thighs, pried them apart and plunged into the warm wet depths of her. Her body went instantly into the violent thrashing of a huge orgasm matching his own turbulent climax as he pumped pulse after pulse of semen into her. He felt her fingernails racking his back and saw her eyes rolling into her head. The breathing piece fell out of her mouth and bubbles rose from her lips. In a panic he grabbed the mouthpiece and rammed it into her, shoving her jaw tight against it with his palm. He swam upwards, dragging her with him, holding her tightly, still inside her.

When they broke the surface her eyes were open in a weird combination of fright and ecstasy. She coughed out the mouthpiece, gasped in some air, looked at him in amazement and threw her arms around his neck.

"Oh God, Werner, I love you so, I can't stand it. Why didn't you let me drown? I can't bear the thought of not being with you after tonight! Oh God Oh God!" She kissed him and wept and kissed him and wept some more and kissed him again.

"Darling, darling!" he cried, Why do you think you won't be with me again?"

"Because you're free and I'm meat. You're going back to Austria, and I'm here until I die. You'll marry a fine free woman and have a lovely family, and I'll have baby after baby that I'll never know, or not have any, and wind up on a stranger's plate for dinner. It's hopeless. It's like loving a ghost. A big, blond, wonderful ghost. Or maybe I'm the ghost. The point is, it's hopeless!"

"I don't see why it has to be hopeless, my sweet Aprille. My company in Austria will be part of your company here. Surely something can be arranged. I can be transferred here, or you can be transferred to Austria. As long as you make babies and I do my job well, we can find a way to be with each other often."

"We can't marry like real people," she said, sniffling.

"No, but we can love like real people. Better than real people because you're always super horny. Not many women can say that."

She laughed and threw herself against him, and hugged him, and cried. "I'm going to try to believe it will work out like that," she said, wiping her eyes. "And if it doesn't, I can always volunteer to be spitted. If you stop loving me, there will always be someone who wants to eat me."

"What a ridiculous thought," he said, "that I could ever stop loving you."

They climbed out of the pool, took off the tanks and made love again on the wet tiles. A party of girls came in, glanced at their writhing bodies, giggled, stripped and dove into the pool.