"Oh, you don't know?" you say, trying to buy time so you can think.
"I know enough that a maid carrying a spit roaster on her shoulders doesn't make any sense." He says, pulling his chef's knife from his waist pocket.
You realize that with Zoe on your back, as slippery and weak as she is, there is no way to defend yourself. You look down at the tip of his knife as it shines off the fluorescent light, fresh blood dry on the blade.
Part of you feels your blood will be added next, a strange call of the void building in your stomach.
"Oh, go ahead. It's your funeral." you say confidentially, as you take a step towards him.
"What do you mean? You're the one who would be dead," he responds, confusion in his voice.
"The Baron doesn't take lightly to his plans being ruined by ignorant assistants who clearly can't read."
You take another step towards the service door, and then, another.
"Can't read? I did read. It says she's to be cooked alive."
You're just in reach of the door as you stop to turn your head.
"And how would The Baron know that she's been cooked alive if he's not here to witness it? Fool. This one is for his private room."
You press your body through the service door, it swinging back and forth as you move out of sight.
As soon as you turn the corner, you lift Zoe higher on your back, tighten your grip under her thighs, and start to run through the narrow hallway. You turn your head to the right and see that several doors lead right out to the banquet hall, with cocktail hour in full swing as the rich and established of Dolcett mingle. You just keep going straight, as out of the door ahead, you can see some daylight.
Just as you burst out the door, you see a line of luxury vehicles, limousines, and some taxis, as you've come out next to the valet station. You suddenly feel dozens of eyes on you as everything around you literally stops to see what is going on.
"I know that you have a plan, Scarlett. You didn't come all this way without an escape plan."
"Well..." you say, as you see the armed guards who were patrolling the entrance to the courtyard marching in your direction, guns drawn.
"You DO have an escape plan, right?" Zoe says, half-asleep.
You freeze in place as you try to think of some other way out of this—a secured private residence with only one entry point; a single road being patrolled by the same men who are pursuing you. Armed guards are on their way. The tree line is a few minutes away on foot.
"What now?" Zoe says.
The men raise their rifles, and you feel your hands instinctively rise to give yourself up.
"It's game over," you say, with resignation in your voice. "We're dinner."
You close your eyes just as a hot flash of air rushes over your face, followed by a screeching sound. The light changes as something in front of you blocks out the sun, and you turn just as you hear the sound of a sliding track and a click. You look and see a black SUV waiting, the door open.
"Claire. GET IN."
[[Get in the vehicle. You decide whoever is still calling you Claire in Dolcett is someone you can trust. ->Banquet Escape]]
[[Your identity as Claire was exposed days ago, but the SUV pulling up is a great distraction. Run around it, past the back of the building, and into the forest. ->Gunned Down]]You swallow down any remaining doubt and extend your hand, steadying it as it shakes. His palm meets yours, and he squeezes it tight, giving it one pump. Just as you go to pull away, he spins you around and nearly pulls your shoulder out of its socket as he pins your wrist behind your back. You instinctively push your hips back into him and lower your center of gravity to prepare for a judo throw, but then you remember why you’ve chosen this.
So, instead, you allow him to zip-tie your wrists behind your back.
“You know…” he says, his breath hot on your neck as he growls in your ear, “that sales pitch of yours really got me going. You’d make FINE eating, and I’m thinking of keeping you for myself…”
You heart flutters as you feel his cock hardening in his pants.
“…but I’ve already got my Dolcett Day roast for this week at home, soaking in brine for the next three days. Pity I don’t have room for two.”
He marches you to the back as you try to look over your shoulder, ensuring that Zoe is being taken out from the counter, and not by a customer.
The sight beyond the meat counter is one to behold. There are half carved up women all around you, hanging on hooks, bleeding out, in various stages of processing. You have a flashback to five years ago, when the woman volunteered right in front of you, and the way she orgasmed just as she was bled out.
You’re much closer to understanding her now than you were five years ago—how at peace she was then, the look of finality in her eyes. You feel your eyes begin to cross and realize you’re losing yourself, so you desperately try and pull yourself back.
You look down and realize your clothes are being cut off, and the bind at your wrists are hung up on a hook. A sprayer hose soaks you un-ceremonially, and your left naked, wet, and hanging…like a piece of meat.
You can’t see through your soaked hair but feel footsteps approach and a hand press on the small of your low back. You feel a sudden prick at the center of your breastbone and see that a man has a large knife pointed right into you.
“Gutting this one?” he says over his shoulder.
You gasp to speak and realize the inhale causes your chest to press into the blade and cut you, a small trickle of blood oozing out.
“No, no, no, full roaster, just dry her and package her up.”
“You sure? She’s looking grade C to me. I think she’s best suited for roasts and stew meat. I can take care of her quick.”
You feel the blade pressing into you and you realize this may have been one big mistake. You close your eyes tight and bite down on your lip, expecting to be sliced open any second. You also feel a tremendous pressure in your cunt, and realize you’re probably going to cum to this, too, just like the girl did five years ago.
[[Try to orgasm now before he cuts into you. You might as well cum if you’re going to go, and it’s the only chance of getting your senses back. ->Butcher Mindbreak]]
[[Remind him that full roaster means with your organs still packed inside. You're losing it, but you're also the only person keeping innocent women from being sent to Dolcett ->Butcher Mindbreak 8]]You try to pull as hard as you can against the rope, straining against your binds, but you feel them only tighten, like a rubber band that's become too taut, pulling you further and further in and making your legs uncomfortable as they press against your chest. You try again, but you only manage to lift the tray up slightly before it comes down with a loud clang. A third effort has the same result, the metal clanging echoing through the void around you.
You pause in the silence to catch your breath.
CLANG. CLANG.
The banging noise this time sends a shiver down your spine, as it did not come from you. You try to force your head up to look, just as a voice begins to speak.
"Tut-tut, darling. You're making such an awful racket."
You look up and see the silhouette of a gorgeous, dark-haired woman stirring a large pot, her banging a wooden spoon against the side of it a couple of times, the potatoes she's stirring dripping back down to cook. She turns and begins to saunter towards you, her smile rapturous through her bright red lips. You struggle to see exactly who it is as some type of salty, citrusy-tasting liquid gets into your eyes.
A marinade.
As the figure approaches and comes into focus, and you gasp as you realize who it is.
"Are you uncomfortable, my little roaster? Just say the word."
She flashes a large kitchen knife.
"And it will ALL be over. I promise."
[[Ask for it to all be over. You've had quite enough of this scene, thank you. ->Dream Ends B]]
[[You aren't ready to give up yet. Ask how she got you here - you were just resting at home. ->Dream 3]]The fatigue of the previous day’s ordeal allows you to sleep soundly through the night for the first time in years. You aren’t sure if it’s good or bad—but you admit that, for once, you feel like you’re coming to a clearer understanding of what your true purpose is. Or, if things go south, potentially on the brink of your greatest fantasy.
You realize that your true identity is irreplaceably intertwined between the two, and you’re on the cusp of pulling the pieces of you together into one whole.
But, to do that, you’d have to make it through today.
As you press out of your tent, Zoe is already gone. You see her sitting at the large makeshift picnic table, giggling with Blueberry and several new friends. You step forward to join her, but hesitate. You haven’t casually socialized in so long—you’ve spent half a decade focused on your work for so long, that it’s hard to think of anything but.
So, you decide to join Phoenix, who is still standing over the map of the city center. It’s time to get to work.
“So. I think it’s about time you told me about your grand plan for today,” you say, leaning over the map.
“Not until you’ve wished me a happy Dolcett Day yet, Scarlett,” Phoenix teases.
“Happy Dolcett Day, Phoenix. So, with that out of the w—”
“Tell me what you know about Dolcett Day, Scarlett.”
“Well…it’s a celebration of a woman’s right to consent, right? It’s the only day of the year a woman cannot be eaten for any reason unless she specifically asks for it,” you recall from your journey five years ago.
“Exactly. But… did you know that more women are eaten on Dolcett Day than any other day of the year? And exponentially more married women consent to being eaten on our national holiday as well. Now, why would that be?”
The women begin to gather around the table, with Zoe pressing up to your right and Blueberry to your left.
“It’s because Dolcett Day is a sham,” Phoenix continues. “It’s a break in the established rules to allow men to replace otherwise loyal, dedicated women with younger brides. Women get married here for safety—but men use words like honor and tradition to justify coercing these women into agreeing to some type of celebratory event that takes away everything they fought for—but most of all, their lives. Women go along with it, but as it happens, something very unique takes place in their hearts.”
You think back to your conversation as you nod for Phoenix to continue.
“Women on this day allow themselves to have doubts about the established order. This might be hard for you to understand, coming from a place where women have rights and are treated like equals, but the people here are willing to follow the rules as long as the rules make sense. When you’ve grown up in a place your entire life where a woman can end up on the menu for nearly any reason, you normalize the idea that women are food. But when women see their friends and family members walk off reluctantly to slaughter on the ONE day they are supposed to be safe, they allow themselves to think in a way outside of the constructs placed upon them.”
“But they don’t act, right?” you ask. “There’s no history of any revolution on Dolcett Day.”
“They don’t act because they don’t know what a woman is truly capable of. But when they see us today, marching through the Dolcett Day parade, standing in the town square—with YOU with us—it will be enough to inspire them to realize what they are truly capable up, rise up, and join us.”
"I've never understood why you think I’m so important in all this.”
“It’s not what I think.” Phoenix says. “Women here aren’t allowed to know much, Scarlett. But there is a reason the whisper here about you.”
You look around as every member of the LFD now stands at the table, all staring at you, seeing you in a way you haven’t even been willing to see yourself.
“They know about what you’ve done across the pond, that women can no longer be sent here for slaughter unless it’s their deepest craving—and most of all, they know that a WOMAN made that change, defying the established order of men. And when they see you, that instrument of change, walking beside us through their streets, they will realize that they are no different from you. They will put down the beliefs that have bound them to a life of service and march with us in the streets.”
“Alright, so your plan is to just march through the city center? Won’t you just get eat—”
You realize the answer to your question before you even finish it.
“Not on Dolcett Day,” Phoenix proudly confirms. “Forcing us into being food will create unrest that will last for generations. If that is the outcome today, we will at least have perished for a noble cause.”
Phoenix points down at the map.
“And, if I’m being honest, it’s still the most likely outcome. We will need to handle a few things to get to the city center successfully. If we fail at even one of them, men will have just enough leverage to take us down, and our entire movement will have been for nothing.”
“It won’t be for nothing, Phoenix. I promise you that,” you say boldly.
“And Scarlett keeps her promises!” Zoe cheers.
Blueberry nods and gives two thumbs up, before pointing down at the map, indicating for Phoenix to begin.
“First, the police are obviously going to converge on our location as soon as we get there. It’ll be my role to explain what our movement is about and convince them they do not have the right to stop us, as we do not consent to be taken and eaten. I’ll be taking on this role, with Blueberry at my side as an example that even women who were once property have the right by law to choose whether to consent or not on this day.”
Blueberry nods eagerly and signs for several seconds.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you’re saying,” you say to Blueberry.
“It’s not important you, or anyone, knows what she speaks, just that she CAN speak. Second, there’s a radio tower here,” Phoenix says, tapping on the map. “It’s an emergency system used in the event that there’s ever an uprising of women. If activated, it will broadcast a special frequency that repeats the phrase—”
“…calm down,” you interject. “But from a male voice. Is it really that enraging to all women?”
“Wouldn’t it make you crazy, Scarlett? My point is, we have to shut it down proactively—but it’s heavily guarded. We need someone to go in there, distract the guards, and destroy the hardware. Someone they wouldn’t expect to be a threat would be best suited.”
The room is quiet, as there is no initial volunteer, until you see someone unexpected step forward.
“They’ll never suspect me.” Zoe says, her voice quivering. “I’m so innocent, and with this fresh shave, they’ll probably just think I’m a food delivery. I’ll… I’ll go in and shut it down.”
“That’s awful brave of you, Zoe,” you praise.
Zoe smiles and gives you a curtsy.
“…but I would rather you not go by yourself,” you state firmly.
“Then I will protect her.”
A voice from the entrance of the hallway echoes through the LFD. Everyone turns as a tall, muscular figure walks through the beams of sunlight that press through the red door, until her identity is finally revealed under the lone sewer light.
“Puma. Glad you could make it,” you say happily.
“Just wait a minute,” Phoenix interjects, stepping forward. “How did you find the location of my hideout?”
“Pfft. Calling this a hideout is a bit of a stretch.” Puma says dismissively. “But regardless, I’ll look after Zoe and make sure that tower is shut down. Besides, you’re having a little party where we’re disrupting the lives of men and you forgot to invite me? Shame.”
“Puma, promise me you’ll keep her safe,” you implore.
“With my life, Scarlett.”
“Well…I guess the location of our hideout won’t matter much in a few minutes anyway,” Phoenix admits. “Lastly, there is a float of women leading the parade. They are all ‘volunteers’ who have accepted the honor of being cooked alive on live television to show how dignified it is to volunteer to be dinner on this ‘glorious’ day. I have a hunch that these women were signed up by their husbands, employers, or owners—and with a little convincing, they could be persuaded to join us. We’d show the world that, deep down, even the women in the most revered volunteer positions don’t want to be eaten.”
“Sounds like a job for me. I’ll handle it,” you say.
“One last thing, Scarlett. When we march, the rules of this place will no longer matter, and you should no longer feel bound by them. There’s no point in taking on unnecessary risks respecting the customs of a country that doesn’t respect you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“She’s telling you to honor your training, Scarlett. Prove to yourself and to me that you’re finally ready.”
“I am ready. It’s time to difference for all the innocent women – not just from North Carolina, or the USA, but all over the world.”
Blueberry walks over and taps emphatically on the map, on a part of the street labeled “Parade Entrance.”
“Yes, Blueberry, I know,” Phoenix says frustratingly. “The only hitch is that, to get us legally onto the parade route, we need a man to sign us in. We have the permits smuggled in, and the documentation should HOPEFULLY not be expired, but by law, a meat parade has to be brought in by a man. I’m still trying to figure out how we could best disguise someone to play that role.”
“Why don’t we just ask Scarlett’s boyfriend?” Zoe asks.
"Boyfriend?!" Puma asks.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you say reflexively, your cheeks turning red.
“NO MEN. I haven’t trusted a man in five years, and I’ll be damned if I’ll start now.” Phoenix confirms.
Blueberry begins frantically signing to Phoenix.
“I said no, Blueberry.”
“He’s a good man, Phoenix,” you add. “If it wasn’t for him, well…”
“…we’d be eaten,” Zoe says.
Blueberry again assertively jams her finger into the map, pointing at the entrance to the parade route. She continues to sign repeatedly, her hands and arms moving faster than you thought possible.
“There’s got to be another way.” Phoenix declares.
Blueberry walks over and slaps Phoenix upside the head.
“Did you just—”
Blueberry quickly signs a message and smiles.
“You did NOT knock some sense into me.”
“Maybe she’s right,” you say.
“Not you too, Scarlett. You know—”
“What I know is men live in Dolcett too, Phoenix. If you’re really going to change the world here, you’re going to have to learn to coexist with the men who live here, too. If you can’t resolve that now, all of these women you’ve fought to protect are doomed.”
Phoenix takes a long drag from her vape as she looks around at the room full of women she’s saved—runaway wives, livestock, the down-on-their-luck, the unemployed—all eager for the same opportunity—not for revenge, but to be on equal footing with the opposite gender.
To have a fair shake at a decent life.
“…this boyfriend of yours,” Phoenix wonders. “Do you think he’d be willing to help us?”
[[Advance to: Friday AM, Parade Entrance ->D Day Parade]]As you watch the LFD woman tremble as she's carried off, you try to watch for clues on how to escape the machine when it's your turn.
But no turn ever comes. Instead, you sit in thr grazing field watching the sun set, both on Zoe's life and your grip on existence, as the day ends. By the time you're walked into the barn to sleep, you feel yourself completely give up.
No, not give up. Buy in. You're a sow now, and you're going to treat it like a vacation you never have to go home from. No responsibilities, stress, or goals. Just pleasure.
An endless life of release.
*****************
You have no idea how long it has been since Mistress broke you. You stare vacantly out into the field, morbidly obese, the dexterity in your fingers and toes completely lost as you crawl on your wrists and knees and eat mindlessly from your trough. Your skin has become leathery and hard, to the point where spots have naturally formed in places where the sun has burned you and the skin has failed to heal.
None of this bothers you. Nothing bothers you. The only thing you care about is filling your belly up with the slop that is provided to you, playing with the other sows in the field so you can have as many orgasms as your heart desires for the day, and forgetting how to even spell the word responsibility as nothing matters to you anymore other than simply existing.
The most important thing to you is you are finally content.
You see a farm hand walk over and attach a leash to your neck. You don't stop eating from the trough even as he gives it two or three tugs, and the slop is still running down your chin as you're walked into the barn.
Mistress Everett is waiting for you.
For once, in your entire existence, her attention and eyes are ALL on you as you enter. She leans over and sits down a pie in front of you. You can smell the mixture of root vegetables- all of your absolute favorites are inside. You don't even look up twice to her as you eagerly dig in.
You feel her hand caress around your back and on your rump, giving it a squeeze. You hear a whispering but you don't know what is said, words having lost any meaning to you long ago. You do stop for a second as you feel a gentle rubbing on your head, as you’ve always loved that.
"You're been a very good girl, Melody..." Mistress Everett says as she rubs your head just as you’ve always liked.
You continue to eat eagerly. You don’t stop even as you feel the cold metal press against the back of your skull.
"...but it's time for you to fulfill your purpose."
You don't stop eating until the moment your brains are blown out of the back of your head. You simply slump over, dead, and are picked up by the ankles and hung up for slaughter.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
All of the vegetables that you've enjoyed for months are well represented in the large stockpot that simmers on the Mistress’ stove. Large chunks of your flesh, a little bit from each part of your body, also add their flavor to a thick, cozy, delectable Melody Vegetable Soup that simmers into the autumn night. You’re going to make a perfect cozy meal on a fall day as your Mistress eagerly ladles out servings, happily sitting at her table to dig in.
Mistress Everett moans loudly as she takes her first bite.
“Gosh. Sows taste just SO good when paired with their favorite meals. The way the flavors blend together is exactly why I do what I do.”
She nods as she continues to scoop spoonful after spoonful of your soup into her mouth, her eyes wandering to the clipboard listing the results of the day's work. Just as you were incredibly important to her at the onset of your consumption, you're completely forgotten as the spoon clangs against the empty bowl.
*******************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs Afternoon, Feeding Troughs ->Fattening]]You decide, on your thirteenth attempt, to head towards the cabin.
You walk down the dirt path as you approach the house. What appeared at first to be a blurry image of an ancient home becomes more clear to you with every step - The house is cozier than you could imagined, no, somehow, it'sexactly how you'd imagine a cozy wooden cottage to be - a smoking chimmney, a beautiful, packed vegetable guardian, and a round hobbit like door.
You shake your head as this house is PERFECT for you - it's like you designed it yourself. And yet, as it comes into view, it starts to dissapate, like it's fading from reality in front of your eyes. Just as you go to put your hands on a white picket fence, it decompensates into rotted wood, and as you look back at the house, you only seen the ruins, the skeleton of a cottage that had been abandoned for what looks like centuries.
You turn behind you to look again at the fork and a new path has opened up - one that has a clear route to a meadow - the meadow that Phoenix told you to look for. The lodge should be just beyond it. You should arrive just before dinner.
Just in time to save Zoe.
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Continue on your journey - Banquet Hall, Outside->Banquet Outside Forest Clothed]]Carefully, you walk down the dirt path as you approach the house. What appeared at first to be a blurry image of an ancient home becomes clearer to you with every step. The house is cozier than you could have imagined. No, somehow, it's exactly how you'd imagine a cozy wooden cottage to be—a smoking chimney, a beautiful, packed vegetable garden, and a round, hobbit-like door.
You shake your head as you realize this house is PERFECT for you—it's like you designed it yourself. And yet, as it comes into view, it looks totally different from how you saw it when you first started down the path. Is something wrong with your eyes? You look back, and you can't even see from here where the branching path split off. It's almost like it has disappeared with each step, back into the brush.
You decide you've come this far, and you're just going to have to press on. As you slide the adorable white picket fence open, the woman emerges from her house.
There's something about her face and her skin that doesn't quite add up. She has both a flash of energy and youth, but there is something worn about her skin that makes her seem older than you could understand. She again waves her hand in a gesture inviting you in, creaking the door open and offering for you to walk past her inside.
You decide it's best not to get distracted, despite how alluring this is. It just feels like whatever was inside would be dark, dirty, and a trap.
"Excuse me, I'm trying to find my way out of these woods to help a friend. Can you tell me the way?"
"Oh, dearie, you must be SO tired from walking through my woods. Please come in and rest for a spell. I'm just about to fix my lunch."
You've been in Dolcett too long to simply accept a meal invitation from a stranger.
"No, thank you. I really need to get to my friend as soon as possible. If you can't help me, I'll be on my way."
The woman smiles with a grin as wide as you've ever seen—her skin pulling back so tightly that it looks like it's going to snap. She raises her hand and turns the palm face-up gently, bringing her fingers to her wrist as she whispers something that you either don't understand because it's so quiet, or because it sounds like it's in a different language entirely.
You see a flash of green light before your eyes, and your fight-or-flight instinct screams flight. You turn and take two steps backward as you hear laughter behind you, and another flash of green light around the woods.
"I said... it's time for you to come inside, dearie, because it's been far too long since I've had a good meal."
A third green flash covers your vision entirely for a second, and when your vision clears, you are now facing her instead of looking back toward the trail. You look down and see that your feet are slowly walking forward, but you don't command them. You try to turn your hips or dig your heels in, but nothing translates from your brain to your body. You can only move your head slightly and feel an expression of panic form on your face as your body walks you directly into the home, with the woman just behind you.
You hear the door slam shut behind you. You are able to turn your head just enough to see that the door has several locks, which bolt, hinge, and turn themselves to trap you inside. You quietly think to yourself that you'll never be able to get out that door, no matter how hard you try.
The home itself is old, simple, dirty, and not well decorated. It simply has one dining room table, a kitchen counter with [[one knife ->Sliced and Diced]] and a cutting board, and a fireplace with a [[large cast-iron cauldron->Sliced and Diced]] over it, large enough to fit... you. As you scan the home, you don't see anywhere to sleep or anywhere to relax. It's simply one large, studio-style room, with the cauldron and fireplace as the centerpiece.
Somehow, again, it looks EXACTLY how you'd envisioned it. Cozy on the outside, and rather drab, dark, and dirty on the inside. You also can't stop peering over at and thinking about the cauldron.
"It's quite lovely, isn't it?" the woman says, as if she's read your mind. "Ancient, really, but rather well-seasoned, of course, after generations of use, and the perfect size. I can tell you like it."
"I... why can't I move my body?"
"You ARE moving your body. It's just that your body and your mind aren't in total agreement about what they want to do. At least, not yet..." she says as she walks over to the [[cutting board. ->Sliced and Diced]] "You deny that you're enjoying yourself?"
"I...um..."
You have a sudden flashback to simmering in the Eternal Broth at the soup kitchen five years ago. Your whole body, cooking in the stock that had claimed so many women before you, your flavor mixing with theirs....it's a moment that you still fantasize about, [[masturbate too ->Sliced and Diced]] when you need to climax. You wonder even now what it would’ve been like if you hadn’t get out, [[cooked whole->Full Boil]], and had been reduced to being a simmering pot of sou-
The flames on the cauldron suddenly ignite, seemingly on their own. The rush of smoke and heat blurs your vision, and as you regain it, you see that the cauldron is now filled—with a thick, [[delicious-looking vegetable soup. ->Full Boil]]
*Has it been filled the whole time? Or did it just appear there?*
The woman starts to hum a tune as she drags the knife off of her cutting board, and slowly walks over to you.
"It's only missing one ingredient, wouldn't you agree?"
[[Think to yourself the missing ingredient is your body - chopped up into bite sized pieces and simmering in the soup. ->Sliced and Diced]]“Oh, I’ve definitely got you now. In just a few hours, the only thing left of you is going to be picked-clean phones on a platter.”
You'll feel your eyes roll back into your head and your body near orgasm as she slides you into her giant brick oven. The flames immediately kiss and cook your skin as you quiver in the heat as you roast alive.
"Mmm. I was looking forward to soup, but you’re going to make a great roast. Bye-bye."
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
As you slide in Abutit's oven, the fantastical quickly becomes reality, as the flames from the wood fire oven consume you. You see fire in every direction, swarming your flesh and cooking around and on top of you. You absolutely accept that what is happening is real, as for you, the craving to be roasted in an oven has become a core belief.
It is a mantra that has now doomed you, as you cannot see any other way to escape. You've always seen yourself as a perfect roast, and you watch as your skin crisps around you, turning dark brown and crispy in seconds. You feel your legs and arms going stiff, ready to be ripped off like the legs and wings of a prized holiday bird. You gasp as you watch your belly bulge, realizing that Abutit’s magic can result in you being filled with a delicious bread stuffing even as she stands outside, softly singing a tune.
Good little roaster, sleep now tight…
You're going to be my dinner tonight
Don't you fret about your fate…
as we soon have our dinner date.
You accept that you very much resemble a traditional turkey dinner, your body morphing in front of you to fit the bill. Only your head stays your own in your mind, a cartoonish image that you’ve orgasmed too many times, as you’ve tried to rationalize your desire to BE so many of the meals you enjoy.
It’s fitting you’re thinking of a holiday, as tonight is one for Abutit – as she celebrates the special occasion of the latest person to wander into the Mysterious Wood and never return.
*************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs AM, Mysterious Wood ->The Mysterious Wood]]hasPhoto:false
--
BOARDING IS COMPLETE. EVERYONE, PLEASE TAKE YOUR SEATS, AS WE ARE SCHEDULED FOR AN ON-TIME DEPARTURE.
Your stomach sinks as you watch the cabin door seal just in front of you, the various handles and locks seeming louder and more meaningful than at any other time in your life.
*There's no going back now*, you think to yourself.
You look down again at your Conversion Visa, the document with a photo of YOUR face that says that at least this identity is scheduled to be slaughtered and eaten sometime over the next week. Reluctantly, you admit to yourself that you've fantasized about this exact moment more than a few times, the moment where you'd be willing to let your desires take over and offer yourself up for conversion. You've always kept that fantasy to yourself, ever since your first trip to Dolcett, but the idea of flying back in and being eaten has gnawed at you ever since.
You place the first class blanket over your lap and press down on it firmly, just as you feel your eyes begin to glaze over as you allow your mind to just wander. You hear a voice speaking, but you push it out of your mind as you feel you thoughts drift to an image of you being trussed and tucked away in a hot oven. You tell yourself you're going to allow just one more fantasy, one more yearn for this before you settle in to the mission ahead. A voice again threatens to pull you away, but you close your eyes as your hand drifts under the blanket and you subtely applies some pressure on your mound, allowing just a little friction as drool leaks from your mouth.
You see yourself, roasted golden brown, stuffing leaking out of your stuffed, stitched stomach, just as a fork pierces into your thigh and begins to carv-
"I SAID."
A voice jars you back to reality, and your eyes open wide as you stare up at a rather handsome-looking man staring down at you. He’s got white and gray streaks throughout his beard and a larger frame, but he has a very friendly, comforting demeanor, accompanied by a warm smile.
"Is this seat taken?" the man says with a smile.
You absent-mindedly look down at the empty seat next to you, then back at your lap to see your Conversion Visa sitting open. You frantically slam it shut, hoping he didn't see it, and then look up, confused, as you try to understand how he's asking about an open seat in the first-class section of an airplane.
"Hahaha, couldn't help myself. The name's Asher. That was a joke, by the way," he says as he stores his carry-on luggage and sits next to you.
"Oh, I knew that. Good one," you mutter as you try to clear your head. You look at him again and wonder if he's actually handsome or if you're just so horny that any man would look good right now.
"You're traveling alone?" he asks, but doesn't give you enough time to answer. "You've got to be pretty certain about what you're going there for."
"I'm just meeting a friend... for dinner," you say, trying to blend some version of the truth with something that sounds reasonable for the world you're about to enter.
He grins, nods, and leans in a little too close into your personal space for comfort—closer than a man has been in years.
"You're just as eager as the locals are, I bet. To tell you the truth, I've been fantasizing about eating a woman since the first time I was aroused. There's something about it, It’s deeper than sex, it’s the exchange of the body, the will, the entirely of someone’s existence from one person to another, forever. It’s just intoxicating. You know what I mean?"
You feel your hand drifting between your legs but you steer it to your thigh.
"I do." You say to Asher.
"I think what's going to make it so special is the women of this place want this just as bad as I do. It's crazy - EVERY woman in Dolcett wants to be eaten."
He pauses just as the plane is taking off, the noise of the engine and change of cabin pressure changing both the air and the flavor of the moment.
"... I would be careful getting your hopes up on that."
"What do you mean? If anything, I'm doing THEM a favor by by being someone who's going to make their experience so special. They can know deep down that they weren't just some run of the mill weeknight meal, but that they were eaten as a part of someone's peak experience in life."
"I would just say, that...as someone with some experience in Dolcett...that a woman's life is a lot more complicated than you might think. Some of them truly do crave it. Some of them may not know any other way. And some are just putting on a brave face hoping they can find some way out of the inevitabitily of their situation."
He nods as he shuffles through his backpack to pull out some headphones. "You've given me something to think about."
"Sorry."
"Don't be. The truth is always beautiful." He leans in. "And so are you, in the non eating kind of way."
You feel yourself blush, but also, a bit irritated.
"Was that offensive? I didn't mean it that way. I would totally-"
"You're fine."
"...I'm just going to put my headphones on now."
********
The rest of your plane ride goes uneventfully, and as the plane lands, you take your time grabbing your one bag and making your way through customs. As you approach the immigration officer, you put on your best face and make sure you start your time in this country on the right foot. You remind yourself that it will only take one mistake for you to be literally eaten by whoever claims you.
"Alright, I need your passport, your visa, and can you tell me your name, please?"
[[Hand him your passport and tell him your name is Scarlett Sky. ->Scarlett Sky]]
[[Hand him your passport and tell him your name is Claire Webber. ->Claire Webber]]
[[Hand him your passport and tell him your name is Christine Wood. ->Christine Wood]]
[[Hand him your passport and tell him your name is Claire Wood. ->Hotel]]BOARDING IS COMPLETE. EVERYONE, PLEASE TAKE YOUR SEATS, AS WE ARE SCHEDULED FOR AN ON-TIME DEPARTURE.
Your stomach sinks as you watch the cabin door seal just in front of you, the various handles and locks seeming louder and more meaningful than at any other time in your life.
*There's no going back now*, you think to yourself.
You look down again at your Conversion Visa, the document with a photo of YOUR face that says that at least this identity is scheduled to be slaughtered and eaten sometime over the next week. Reluctantly, you admit to yourself that you've fantasized about this exact moment more than a few times, the moment where you'd be willing to let your desires take over and offer yourself up for conversion. You've always kept that fantasy to yourself, ever since your first trip to Dolcett, but the idea of flying back in and being eaten has gnawed at you ever since.
You place the first class blanket over your lap and press down on it firmly, just as you feel your eyes begin to glaze over as you allow your mind to just wander. You hear a voice speaking, but you push it out of your mind as you feel you thoughts drift to an image of you being trussed and tucked away in a hot oven. You tell yourself you're going to allow just one more fantasy, one more yearn for this before you settle in to the mission ahead. A voice again threatens to pull you away, but you close your eyes as your hand drifts under the blanket and you subtely applies some pressure on your mound, allowing just a little friction as drool leaks from your mouth.
You see yourself, roasted golden brown, stuffing leaking out of your stuffed, stitched stomach, just as a fork pierces into your thigh and begins to carv-
"I SAID."
A voice jars you back to reality, and your eyes open wide as you stare up at a rather handsome-looking man staring down at you.
"Is this seat taken?" the man says with a smile.
You absent-mindedly look down at the empty seat next to you, then back at your lap to see your Conversion Visa sitting open. You frantically slam it shut, hoping he didn't see it, and then look up, confused, as you try to understand how he's asking about an open seat in the first-class section of an airplane.
"Hahaha, couldn't help myself. The name's Asher. That was a joke, by the way," he says as he stores his carry-on luggage and sits next to you.
"Oh, I knew that. Good one," you mutter as you try to clear your head. You look at him again and wonder if he's actually handsome or if you're just so horny that any man would look good right now.
"You're traveling alone?" he asks, but doesn't give you enough time to answer. "You've got to be pretty certain about what you're going there for."
"I'm just meeting a friend... for dinner," you say, trying to blend some version of the truth with something that sounds reasonable for the world you're about to enter.
He grins, nods, and leans in a little too close into your personal space for comfort—closer than a man has been in years.
"You're just as eager as the locals are, I bet. To tell you the truth, I've been fantasizing about eating a woman since the first time I was aroused. There's something about it, It’s deeper than sex, it’s the exchange of the body, the will, the entirely of someone’s existence from one person to another, forever. It’s just intoxicating. You know what I mean?"
You feel your hand drifting between your legs but you steer it to your thigh.
"I do." You say to Asher.
"I think what's going to make it so special is the women of this place want this just as bad as I do. It's crazy - EVERY woman in Dolcett wants to be eaten."
He pauses just as the plane is taking off, the noise of the engine and change of cabin pressure changing both the air and the flavor of the moment.
"... I would be careful getting your hopes up on that."
"What do you mean? If anything, I'm doing THEM a favor by by being someone who's going to make their experience so special. They can know deep down that they weren't just some run of the mill weeknight meal, but that they were eaten as a part of someone's peak experience in life."
"I would just say, that...as someone with some experience in Dolcett...that a woman's life is a lot more complicated than you might think. Some of them truly do crave it. Some of them may not know any other way. And some are just putting on a brave face hoping they can find some way out of the inevitabitily of their situation."
He nods as he shuffles through his backpack to pull out some headphones. "You've given me something to think about."
"Sorry."
"Don't be. The truth is always beautiful." He leans in. "And so are you, in the non eating kind of way."
You feel yourself blush, but also, a bit irritated.
"Was that offensive? I didn't mean it that way. I would totally-"
"You're fine."
"...I'm just going to put my headphones on now."
********
The rest of your plane ride goes uneventfully, and as the plane lands, you take your time grabbing your one bag and making your way through customs. As you approach the immigration officer, you put on your best face and make sure you start your time in this country on the right foot. You remind yourself that it is only one mistake that will result in you being literally eaten by whoever claims you.
"Alright, I need your passport, your visa, and can you tell me your name, please?"
[[Hand him your passport and tell him your name is Scarlett Sky. ->Scarlett Sky]]
[[Hand him your passport and tell him your name is Claire Webber. ->Claire Webber]]
[[Hand him your passport and tell him your name is Christine Wood. ->Christine Wood]]
[[Hand him your passport and tell him your name is Claire Wood. ->Hotel]]hasPhoto:true
--
BOARDING IS COMPLETE. EVERYONE, PLEASE TAKE YOUR SEATS, AS WE ARE SCHEDULED FOR AN ON-TIME DEPARTURE.
Your stomach sinks as you watch the cabin door seal just in front of you, the various handles and locks seeming louder and more meaningful than at any other time in your life.
*There's no going back now*, you think to yourself.
You look down again at your Conversion Visa, the document with a photo of YOUR face that says that at least this identity is scheduled to be slaughtered and eaten sometime over the next week. Reluctantly, you admit to yourself that you've fantasized about this exact moment more than a few times, the moment where you'd be willing to let your desires take over and offer yourself up for conversion. You've always kept that fantasy to yourself, ever since your first trip to Dolcett, but the idea of flying back in and being eaten has gnawed at you ever since.
You place the first class blanket over your lap and press down on it firmly, just as you feel your eyes begin to glaze over as you allow your mind to just wander. You hear a voice speaking, but you push it out of your mind as you feel you thoughts drift to an image of you being trussed and tucked away in a hot oven. You tell yourself you're going to allow just one more fantasy, one more yearn for this before you settle in to the mission ahead. A voice again threatens to pull you away, but you close your eyes as your hand drifts under the blanket and you subtely applies some pressure on your mound, allowing just a little friction as drool leaks from your mouth.
You see yourself, roasted golden brown, stuffing leaking out of your stuffed, stitched stomach, just as a fork pierces into your thigh and begins to carv-
"I SAID."
A voice jars you back to reality, and your eyes open wide as you stare up at a rather handsome-looking man staring down at you.
"Is this seat taken?" the man says with a smile.
You absent-mindedly look down at the empty seat next to you, then back at your lap to see your Conversion Visa sitting open. You frantically slam it shut, hoping he didn't see it, and then look up, confused, as you try to understand how he's asking about an open seat in the first-class section of an airplane.
"Hahaha, couldn't help myself. The name's Asher. That was a joke, by the way," he says as he stores his carry-on luggage and sits next to you.
"Oh, I knew that. Good one," you mutter as you try to clear your head. You look at him again and wonder if he's actually handsome or if you're just so horny that any man would look good right now.
"You're traveling alone?" he asks, but doesn't give you enough time to answer. "You've got to be pretty certain about what you're going there for."
"I'm just meeting a friend... for dinner," you say, trying to blend some version of the truth with something that sounds reasonable for the world you're about to enter.
He grins, nods, and leans in a little too close into your personal space for comfort—closer than a man has been in years.
"You're just as eager as the locals are, I bet. To tell you the truth, I've been fantasizing about eating a woman since the first time I was aroused. There's something about it, It’s deeper than sex, it’s the exchange of the body, the will, the entirely of someone’s existence from one person to another, forever. It’s just intoxicating. You know what I mean?"
You feel your hand drifting between your legs but you steer it to your thigh.
"I do." You say to Asher.
"I think what's going to make it so special is the women of this place want this just as bad as I do. It's crazy - EVERY woman in Dolcett wants to be eaten."
He pauses just as the plane is taking off, the noise of the engine and change of cabin pressure changing both the air and the flavor of the moment.
"... I would be careful getting your hopes up on that."
"What do you mean? If anything, I'm doing THEM a favor by by being someone who's going to make their experience so special. They can know deep down that they weren't just some run of the mill weeknight meal, but that they were eaten as a part of someone's peak experience in life."
"I would just say, that...as someone with some experience in Dolcett...that a woman's life is a lot more complicated than you might think. Some of them truly do crave it. Some of them may not know any other way. And some are just putting on a brave face hoping they can find some way out of the inevitabitily of their situation."
He nods as he shuffles through his backpack to pull out some headphones. "You've given me something to think about."
"Sorry."
"Don't be. The truth is always beautiful." He leans in. "And so are you, in the non eating kind of way."
You feel yourself blush, but also, a bit irritated.
"Was that offensive? I didn't mean it that way. I would totally-"
"You're fine."
"...I'm just going to put my headphones on now."
********
The rest of your plane ride goes uneventfully, and as the plane lands, you take your time grabbing your one bag and making your way through customs. As you approach the immigration officer, you put on your best face and make sure you start your time in this country on the right foot. You remind yourself that it will only take one mistake for you to be literally eaten by whoever claims you.
"Alright, I need your passport, your visa, and can you tell me your name, please?"
[[Hand him your passport and tell him your name is Scarlett Sky. ->Scarlett Sky]]
[[Hand him your passport and tell him your name is Claire Webber. ->Claire Webber]]
[[Hand him your passport and tell him your name is Christine Wood. ->Christine Wood]]
[[Hand him your passport and tell him your name is Claire Wood. ->Hotel]]"...I have a last request." you whisper out, as you feel you're erupt if you speak any louder.
"I'm listening, doe." Ella says, pulling your hair back to line your neck up with the floor below.
"Still a finger in my ass. Please. I need it to get there. Oh god, I'm close."
"Oh, you like a little double penetration? That's going to bring you over the edge? I don't mind at all, sweetheart. Anything to get you as tender as I like."
She sets her pen down and licks her finger, hovers the tip at your rectum, and slowly pushes it inside. You gasp out as it immediately wakes you up, completly breaking the rising orgasm as you've never found butt play enjoyable or anyone patient enough to warm you up properly.
You try and pretend like it's working, and you're able to kill a few moore minutes, before she pulls her finger out of her ass and frustratingly slaps you on the butt cheek.
You're being dishonest with me, aren't you? Shame on you!" Ella says as she spanks you again. "Gosh, I'm running out of time. I REALLY need to get my sauce going, my Theron will NOT stand for a late supper. So..."
She grabs a sickle off the wall and holds the tip to your throat. You close your eyes and expect it to be over. But her fingers continue to work inside you, and the feeling of the blade pressing right against your carotid artery drives your lust into an entirely new gear.
"...I'm not even going to ask you this time. Either you are a g-spot girl, or a clit girl. Every doe I've ever butchered likes firm rubbing in one spot, while maintaining firm pressure on the other. I'm going to find out which you are, right now, and then I am going to drain you down my sink."
She adjusts her fingering hand to begin testing you. You can tell she's trying to read your body language - as she won't trust your words - so you've got to quiver for the one that won't make you orgasm, or you're done for.
[[Quiver for her fingers rubbing inwards on your g-spot while holding firm pressure with her thumb against your hood. ->Orgasm Resist]]
[[Quiver for her fingers rubbing back and forth on your clit while she applies firm pressure from inside you. ->G Spot]]A long pause makes you very nervous. It can't end this way. It just can't. You just need-
"This is the LFD. How may we help?"
"This is Scarlett Sky calling. I need talk to Phoenix."
You can hear some whispering on the other end of the phone.
"...Phoenix says it's too dangerous to send a car for you on subjegation night. Please call back in the morning."
"The morning is TOO LATE. I need to come in now."
You hear some more whispering, and then, silence. You stare out the window, feeling every minute slipping away being a precious one, a door between this life and the next.
"If you wish to join us, you will have to find your own way. You must come to the . Best of luck, Scarlett."
CLICK
The phone hangs up, leaving you to decide your next move.
****************************************************
DING
The elevator door opens, and you walk towards the front door of the lobby. Kyle smiles again, holding the door open, practically begging you to walk out. You walk around to the side door, and notice that it's now also being patrolled by a security officer.
You're going to have to just - make a run for it - in plain sight, if you're going to save Zoe. It feels like certain death, but you can't give up. If only there was some other solution, you think to yourself.
You decide that you can knock Kyle out while in stride, and get a good head start. You won't be abiding by the laws anymore, anyway, from here out, so you might as well advantage of surprise. You only which that you had a better circum-
Just as you're about to pick up your feet, sprint, and lunge your elbow into Kyle's jaw, Asher walks in the open lobby door. You feel your heels sink in and your flight or flight response relax as you see him - something about him provides a sense of comfort to your body.
As he walks forward, his head is down, and he's rubbing a hand through his hair. He nearly walks by you before doing a double take, stopping, and flashing a smile.
"Oh, Claire, it's so nice to see you! You haven't had your dinner date yet?"
You see him fiddling with something metal in his hand, and you feel a rush of hope fill in your chest.
"No, it's not time for me yet. Hey...can you do me a favor?"
"Sure, anything for such a beautiful lady. How can I help?"
*****************************************
"You sure this is the address?"
"Yes, you just have to trust me." You say, for the third time, as Asher fiddles with the GPS navigation system in his luxury rental SUV.
"It just doesn't seem that anything is there? Maybe we should turn around."
"Please, I really need this ride." You say, a hand going on his thigh. You pull it back, realizing you didn't mean to make a sexual advance, but somehow, for a moment, you just felt really comfortable with this man.
"So... How was dinner Tuesday?" You say, trying to change the subject. "Was it everything you've ever hoped of?"
You see him shift in his seat uncomfortably as he clears his throat, his eyes wandering out the driver's side window.
"Well. This is going to be difficult for me to explain, but I...didn't go through with it again."
"Oh?"
"I don't know. I really thought all of this was going to be a different type of experience then it has ended up so far."
"Different how??"
"It's crazy. I went to a place that I've only seen in my dreams. Do you have dreams about this place, or is it just me?"
You push Charlene, and her oven, out of your mind but your nod your head regardless.
"It was everything that I've ever wanted. They brought the women out to me, one by one, and I could've had my pick of the litter. Blonde, Brunette, they even had a redhead, which I guess isn't native to here. Did you know that? Heck, they had every ethnicity, offered to prepare them in any cuisine I asked for, all I had to do was say the word and they'd be on my plate."
"So...what went wrong?"
"I guess, even though it was everything I've always wanted, I also saw something I didn't expect."
You nod as you understand what he's going to say next.
"They were afraid." Asher says as he lowers his head. Sure, they smiled and put on a good show, but I could tell. As I looked at them over, their shoulders slumped, their eyes wandered, they tried to drift away from being seen.
He sighs loudly.
"They didn't want to be eaten."
"I did try and tell you." You say, offering a playful smirk.
"Yeah. You were right, Claire. But what's crazy is like - they didn't run. They stood there and just...waited. There was an...inevitabilty to their existance. It just wasn't right."
"So you left...but, you're also still here?"
"Yeah, you know the saying - 'Old habits die hard.' I've thought about eating a woman for more than half my life, maybe, just maybe there's still a willing one out there, who really does share craving I do for a REALLY special moment. Someone who would deep down really would appreciate being dinner for a man like me."
You feel yourself blush as you both sneak a look at each other - a carnal, sexual glance that craves answering, but is also somehow deeper than just lust.
"So, I'm going to give this one last try. I've decided that I don't want it to be so impersonal that that I'm just dining off an a la carte menu, but not so intimate that I have to look them in the eye. I can't just go home and turn my back on this. It's a part of who I am. I don't know if you could ever understand, but this fantasy is literally ingrained in my identity. It's a part of my DNA."
"... I think I might understand more than you can know." you mutter.
"Huh. Well. I guess the happy medium for me is you know I've signed up for pretty extravagant meal - I think it's one of the nicest places in town. I figure, I don't have to worry about if she was willing or not as much at the highest price, because at least, then, the women served in those places-"
"...Don't have a choice, Asher. You said it yourself - women here don't have a choice."
"Yeah, maybe not. But, I've got to do this. I'm going to do it just once and see how it suits me, and then go from there. It's just as inescapable for me as it is for them."
"Just don't lose yourself on the way." you say, as you rest a hand on his forearm, just as the car begins to slow.
Asher looks over you and smiles, and you feel a warmness from him that makes part of you melt.
"If there's anyone here who is in danger of getting lost, it's you, Claire." He says, reaching for and holding your hand. "No offense. You seem like you can handle anything, and yet, I've got a feeling that you're in way over your head."
You just laugh as you try to think of a response, realizing that you've arrived in the middle of nowhere you've asked Asher to drive you to.
"I thought so." Asher confirms. "So how about I give you the same advice you just gave me? Don't lose yourself out there. Whatever you're trying to do, don't forget to put yourself first, because you can't save anyone if you can't save yourself."
[[Advance to - Wed PM ->Wed PM]]You step your left foot back, turn your hips, and throw your best left hook. It lands squarely, the sous chef's feet stumbling backward as he falls through the door that leads to the hallway.
The same hallway that can get you out of this banquet hall, away from this mansion, and to safety.
There's one problem: As you land your punch, Zoe's sauce-soaked body slides right off your shoulders, flopping onto the floor. You reach down to pick her up, but without the spit station to step underneath, you can't get a grip on her.
"Scarlett, hurry!" Zoe implores.
"I'm trying. You're just so slippery."
You here a whooshing sound and look up just in time to see the head chef's kitchen knife land right between your eyes, slicing through your skull and cutting your frontal lobe in half.
Your body stands comically for a few seconds, your brain completely dead, before muscle control gives out and you fall lifelessly to the floor.
Zoe cries as she's carried back to the spit station, re-secured, and the machine is re-activated, her fate nearly delayed a few minutes by your attempted rescue.
Now, it seems, you will be served on the same plate.
GAME OVER. YOU AND ZOE WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Asher's fingertips tap nervously against a martini glass that is still full. He stares around the room and occasionally takes a step forward to join a party of very well-dressed people mingling and laughing loudly as they make small talk. But then, he steps back.
*There's something about these people.*
As a cocktail waitress walks by and offers him a drink, he looks down at the small skewers that are clearly pierced through a woman's flesh. He forces a smile, places his full cocktail back on the tray, and shakes his head as he walks away.
He shrugs and heads for the door. Just as he's about to go out, a hand taps him on the shoulder.
“Excuse me, sir. Your table is ready.”
Asher's hands slides into his pockets as he forces a smile, a decision at hand that will decide the course of the rest of his life, even though he's not aware of it.
He makes the decision with a shrug. Not out of indifference, but because it is simply inevitable. How can one come this far and not know?
He follows his waiter, who seats him at a table with nine other guests. They don't even acknowledge him as they sip cocktails, laugh, and share plates of finger foods spread out across the table.
He notices one man slip a waitress in a maid outfit $200. She smiles as she kneels, slips his cock out of his pants, and sucks on it as he enjoys his cocktail.
“I could go for some of that,” Asher jokes to himself.
Just then, a large tray is set tableside with ten plates for dinner. Asher’s mouth begins to water, and his heart begins to beat faster as dinner after dinner is served. When his meal is set in front of him, it looks just like any other fine dining experience he has had in his life: the plating is immaculate, the sear on the meat is perfect, and the juices are oozing into the mashed potatoes that accompany it.
He’s ordered a double cut, unaware of what has been placed on his plate. He thinks of you and the conversations you’ve had, not knowing the truth as he picks up his fork and knife.
One decision. The rest of his life.
He shrugs again, trying to convince himself that the feelings and emotions he came all this way for don’t matter. That all along, it was simply about the thrill of conquest of one being over another, and not about the experience of sharing that intimate moment. He shrugs off who he really is and clings to the person he believes he must be to live his greatest fantasy.
He slices a large bite with his knife and lifts it toward his lips. He closes his eyes as he slides the flesh into his mouth, overwhelmed by the realization of what he has done.
His eyes shoot open. The person he was is gone, and the person he is now is completely raptured by the moment. He takes another bite, comparing the soft, supple texture of the cut that came from Zoe with the more defined, thick flavor of your steak as he continues with his meal.
He quickly decides he's going to finish his plate. He then sees one of the maids walking over and snaps his fingers rudely, flashing $300 and pointing to his dick. The woman nods eagerly and kneels between his legs.
He skips every other course as he continues to order more and more meat. He nearly kills the woman who is sucking his dick as he shoves his cock balls deep in her throat as he ejaculates, careless to her existence as he dines on someone who was so casually discarded.
Asher has lost himself, but you were lost as well, just an hour before. Now, you’re all together, and in a strange way, your mission is complete.
Except, of course, that you and Zoe will return home in Asher’s stomach.
***************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs PM, Inside the Banquet Hall ->CClean]]ou walk over to the six-top and see that a cocktail matching the same drink as the other diners at the table is being cleaned off the white tablecloth by a runner.
"Wow, she was stupid," a gorgeous blonde says.
"Can't believe we're eating TWO tonight," a woman says as she makes out with her boyfriend, sliding across his lap.
"Yeah, an American AND our stupid little friend—"
"She wasn't stupid," a raven-haired woman snaps back.
"Excuse me."
The blonde looks up at you and shakes the ice in her empty cup.
"Yes, I'd like another. Thank you, ma'am."
Your eyes lower at being called ma'am.
"Oh, I don't work here. I'm just looking for a friend. Zoe Sanders."
The table laughs as the blonde eyes you up and down curiously.
"Oh, we never bothered to get her last name. But you can ask her yourself. Her appetizers should be up in about... oh, fifteen minutes? Give or take?"
As the table continues to laugh, you walk over to what was Zoe's chair and see her purse. You open it and confirm what you already know. She will be served on tonight's menu, and you have already lost.
You don't say another word as you lower your head and walk out of the restaurant, defeated.As Asher hands the guard your permits and the guard leans over the desk, you tear through your pseudo-wrist bind and grab the back of the guard’s head, slamming it against the table. His body flies backward and crashes onto the floor. You quickly check to make sure he’s still breathing, then rip out the phone line and use it to tie his wrists and ankles together.
"God damn, Scarlett, remind me to never mess with you." Phoenix says as she helps you gag him with a handkerchief he had next to his magazine.
"I taught her that." Puma replies, looking down at the unconscious man. "Not bad."
"We couldn't have just waited for him to check the permits?" Zoe asks.
Blueberry shakes her head no.
“They could’ve been expired,” you say. “It’s like Phoenix said—the rules are off today. We’ve got to take any advantage we can to make this work.”
Puma begins to strip the guard naked.
"We have to beat him AND strip him, huh? Kinky…" Asher questions.
“I need his clothes for my part of the plan to work,” Puma says as she shoves the unconscious guard into a locker.
“And what’s my next part of the plan?” Asher asks.
“To go,” you say quietly as you step in front of Asher. “You’ve done enough. You got us inside. But if women are going to believe they can change this world, then they have to see women being the ones leading the charge. I can’t have you with us. It’s too—”
“Dangerous?” Asher says with a smile.
“…that, too.”
Asher reaches around his neck and pulls off the necklace you saw Tuesday morning. He places it around your neck and clasps it tight.
“What’s this for?”
“It was my mother’s. She always believed that whoever wore it wouldn’t lose their way. It’s like I said before…”
“…You can’t keep anyone safe if you can’t keep yourself safe, I remember. Thanks, Asher. You’ve really—”
Asher leans in and presses his lips to yours, giving you a passionate, firm kiss as his beard rubs against your soft face. You raise your hand to press him off, but you feel your arm wrap around his back as you embrace him.
As he pulls his lips away, he smiles.
“And THAT is from me, for luck. You’ll going to need both to survive today. Just promise you’ll come back to me in one piece, okay? You’re…really special to me.”
You clutch the necklace, now hanging just above your breasts.
“I promise.”
“Did ya HEAR that girl keeps her promises?!” Zoe says as she rushes ahead to join the LFD on Main Street.
“That she does,” Phoenix says, offering a handshake to Asher. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
Blueberry rushes in and gives Asher a hug. Puma finishes getting dressed in the guard’s clothes and nods.
You take one final second to stare into Asher’s eyes before you rush off to join the LFD on their march to the city center—to freedom—and to change the country of Dolcett forever.
[if trail.includes('FreedomE')]
Phoenix and Blueberry are all set.
[else]
[[Follow Phoenix and Blueberry to meet the police head-on in their effort to convince them that they cannot legally stop your demonstration. ->Freedom A]]
[if trail.includes('RadioE')]
Zoe and Puma are all set.
[else]
[[Follow Puma and Zoe to the radio tower in their effort to shut down the emergency system that would render the LFD incapacitated. ->Radio Tower]]
[if trail.includes('Floats 2')]
Scarlett is all set.
[else]
[[Follow Scarlett as she rushes to the front of the parade in her effort to convince the Dolcett Day volunteers that there is a better life than becoming a holiday plate. ->Floats]]
[if trail.includes('FreedomE') & trail.includes ('RadioE') & trail.includes ('Floats 2')]
[[Replay Friday AM: ->FA]]
[[Skip Friday AM and advance to Town Square ->Duel One]]
[else]" ... I deal with it the same way you do." You say, flatly, but honestly, a rush going through you didn't feel the need to hide your true self.
You turn your head, insistent on leaving this time.
"This IS the only way, really." Phoenix says, her fingers curling inward, inviting you back inside, in more ways than one. "I've tried to be celibate, I've tried to masturbate to other things, but, if anything, it just makes the cravings worse..."
You turn to face Phoenix and see a kindred spirit in this plight you've kept to yourself for five years.
"You're right." You admit. "I've found that...regular masturbation...to my deepest fantasy is the only way to keep myself from going over the edge. It keeps me sane."
"Couldn't have said it better myself." Phoenix says, stepping in closer, her breath hot, short, eager against your lips. "But how will you deal with your desire where you are going? They will have every right to eat you, if you're caught."
"I'm just going to not get caught, then. Or, at least, I'll do what I always do I'll-."
"Best to get it out of your system now, then take it where you're headed." Phoenix finishes.
You feel Phoenix's hand graze and rub against your thigh, with your hand coming to stop it, but offering very little resistance. You feel your breath getting heavy, eager for her touch, her lips, her tongue.
"Best for BOTH of us to get it out of our system, really..." Phoenix implores. "So we can think more clearly."
"I'm not attracted to women, sorry." you whisper out.
"No, but you ARE attracted to being eaten, aren't you?" Phoenix says, eyeing your body up and down. "You can't fool me, Scarlett. Behind that strong demeanor and lean, muscular frame, you've been excited to be back, haven't you? Walking the streets knowing that you could get snatched up at any moment..."
You feel a flush on your face and a wetness begin to form between your legs.
"You didn't get hot being wrapped tight in plastic two days ago? And, I can tell by how dry your skin is, you spent some time in the oven, didn't you? Did you think about giving in and surrendering? Did you touch yourself just as you realized you might finally be dinner?"
You close your eyes as you moan out of your core and your hand shakes with desire to touch yourself.
"Yes, you'd still make fine eating Scarlett Sky. I wouldn't mind being the one who sunk my teeth into you myself. But..."
Phoenix leans in to whisper in your ear.
"...I'll gladly settle for tasting you with my tongue. With my lips. And licking your essence off of my fingers."
You feel a hand pull at your wrist and lead you towards the bed.
"Come play with me, Scarlett Sky. Play with me and let us enjoy a moment of meaningless pleasure before we take on a journey together that could have greater consequence in this world than any woman has ever had before. A woman's journey should start and end with her own pleasure, wouldn't you agree?"
You begin to speak, but the words don't come out of your mouth. You feel your body laid down on Phoenix's bed, with her crawling on top of you, her lips just over yours.
"Tell me what turns you on, Scarlett Sky. Tell me what you fantasize about."
You feel your arms drop to your sides as she pulls you in for a kiss.
[[Tell her you fantasize about being alive roasted in an oven. ->B3]]
[[Tell her you fantasize about being spitted alive and cooked over open flame. ->F2]]"I fantasize about...about..."
Phoenix begins to kiss your neck, softly, her lips lingering as if she's tasting your flesh anew each time.
"...being...roasted in an oven...alive."
"You look like you already have…" Phoenix says, her kisses going down your neck, across over your chest, and onto to your breasts.
“Did you have a close call yesterday?”
“Yes…so close…”
Phoenix sucks on your nipples as her hand travels down your thigh, teasing and kneading your toned legs.
“That must’ve been hot for you. Tell me how she had you.”
“Trussed. In a pan. Oiled. Seasoned. Ready to roast. God. She roasted me. She roasted me in her fucking oven, and I, I…
“You loved it, didn’t you? It's just me and you here. You can let it out."
“…YES. It was so fucking hot. I felt myself cooking, I…”
Your hand naturally grips the roots of Phoenix's hair and you forcibly push her down to your crotch. She looks up and smiles, kissing the outside of your thighs as her hands trace closer and closer to your outer lips.
“I bet you smelled even better than you do now.” Phoenix says as she puts a finger in her mouth, wetting it.
“…I smelled so good. I could TASTE myself cooking. I was ready. I was so ready to give…”
Phoenix hand begins to press against your outer lips, pulling your mound out a bit, before squeezing and lightly kneading your tender flesh from the outside.
“Say the word, Scarlett.”
“I was ready to give…IN.”
Just as you say the word in, Phoenix slides a finger inside you.
“Is that right? Big, strong, Scarlett Sky was a submitted little oven roaster? I bet that was quite the sight.” Phoenix says as she curls her finger upwards, pressing on your G-spot, your hips rising to meet the pressure, as it’s just how you like it.
“What else has turned you on so far? Go on.”
[[Tell her that you were turned on by the receptionist at the hotel. ->F3]]
[[Tell her you were turned on at Cochinillo Assado, the restaurant. ->B4]]“I…went to a restaurant…”
“Oh, even I wouldn’t do that…” Phoenix says as she presses her lips firmly against your mound, her focusing her tongue on your clit, providing pressured, slow strokes.
You gasp outloud as you grip her head and squirm in her bed, an orgasm building between your legs.
“There was girl meat everywhere…every plate…every single one of them would’ve eaten me…”
“Just like I’m eating you now?”
You press her mouth back onto your mound.
“Just like this. Slowly licking me and fingering me just right. Not too fast, not too slow. Rythym. The restaurant had rhythm. I would’ve just been one meal in a long shift – consumed and forgotten…”
Phoenix increases the pressure of her lips on the roof of your mound, sliding a second finger into your pussy. She grins as your pussy clinches her hand tightly in response.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it? To be a meal and you’re burden as Scarlett Sky to be forgotten? What else?”
[[Correct her and tell you want to be kept. Admit you also got wet talking to Leikr. ->B5]]
[[Tell her you want to be forgotten, and that you craved being one of the Baron’s perfectly tender sow’s. ->F4]]“No, not forgotten. I want to be kept.”
Phoenix goes to speak but you shove her head in place, your legs beginning to quake as you can feel the orgasm coming.
“I got really wet when Leikr tried to kill me. He got his fingers inside of me, and…I…I…”
Phoenix pulls your hand away from her head for a moment to speak.
“You bad girl. You wanted to be his fucking trophy, didn’t you?”
“YES, GOD YES, I wanted him to fucking stuff me like an animal. I wanted to be his den. I wanted him to chew on my fucking bones and brag to his asshole friends about being the one to eat me. God, I want to be-”
Phoenix continues the steady rhythm of her thrusting hand, the curl in her fingertips, and the intense pressure on your mound, her tongue licking you from underneath.
"I want, I WANT TO BE EATEN. I want to be cooked alive. I want to FEEL myself go from strong muscule to soft, supple meat."
Phoenix does not try to speak, but simply maintains the steady pace and pressure to milk a body shaking orgasm out of you.
"I want to smell my flavor, my flesh cooking. I want to feel my senses dim. I want to be consumed, devoured, digested, part of someone else, forever. My only remaining legacy in their stomach. I just want to have my one PERFECT moment and then be enjoyed by someone else."
Just as your climax is imminent, Phoenix very slowly speeds her thrusting up, a subtle difference that matches at the pace of your breath. She presses her lips just a little firmer on your cunt. Her fingers curl in and press your G spot in to create pressure on both sides - squeezing the release out of you like juice from a grape.
"I WANT TO BE KEPT AS A TROPHY." You scream out. "I want every last bit of me to eaten all up, not a single shred of me to waste, annd then I want myy fucking bones boiled for soup. I want to be served with crusty bread, and fresh noodles, and, and..."
You don't even realize you're cuming as she rips orgasm after orgasm out of you. Just as you're about to scream, she slides her free hand over your mouth, and you hold the noise in out of respect for her need for discretion, to not reveal to the LFD she's just as sex crazed as you are.
You simple lie there and convulse as your body is flooded with the most multiple orgasm of your life. You can literally feel your heart beat as the endorphins flood your entire body, leaving you a soaking, heaving, peaceful, beautiful mess.
As your breathing steadies and you collect yourself, you look up to see Phoenix wiping her face and licking her hand clean .
"Delicious. You know, if I was to ever eat another woman, it would be you. But it would be exactly like this, night after night, just like that."
"That was SO fucking good, Phoenix. I needed that. Thank you."
"The pleasure was all mine, Scarlett. There's something freeing for me on letting someone else be in charge, for once. And you're about the only one I know I can trust."
[[Advance to: Thurs AM, After Care Scene ->FT]]“How DARE you turn your back on me!”
You hear the man growl, as if he's speaking through his teeth, while you continue to sprint down the street. You keep going, eager to catch up to Zoe. Just as you grab her shoulder, someone grabs yours.
As your spun around, he clotheslines you with a straight arm across your neck, knocking you backwards and onto the cement. You're able to get your faculties somewhat quickly as you try and spin to your feet, but he cracks a coffee mug over your head, the porcelain shattering and causing your teeth to rattle in your mouth.
“You should know better than to turn down a man when he offers you a drink.”
You try to stagger to your feet as a crowd gathers around you.
"You don't have any right to do this."
"No, Scarlett Sky, the only person that doesn't have a right to be here is YOU."
He picks you up by your head and lifts you off the ground, your feet dangling underneath you. You try to kick him a few times as he laughs, and then violently snaps your neck before you ever touch the ground.. The crowd around the match gasps, and then begins to cheer. As he grips your dead body by the hair, he parades you around the street as excitement builds.
Whoever this person is, he's very well known. And it doesn't appear that anyone is interested in stopping him. Not to mention challenging him by suggesting what he’s done could be wrong.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN..
Epilogue:
Leikr, the man who you turned your back on, stands just behind a white line in his basement. His eyes narrow and his wrist raises as he lines up his shot - immersed in being precise.
As he releases his flies, a dart flies forward and hits the bullseye, cutting right through the skin of your back that he has had taxidermied on his new dart board.
He raises his hand as people around him cheer. He's handed a cocktail quietly by a married woman who quickly skirts away, and he takes a bow to build the roar of the crowd. Before he takes his next throw, he leans over a small table and cuts a slice of flesh off of your grilled lat, your thick back muscle that you turned on him now turned into a tender steak dinner.
As he chews through your flesh, a little of your juices run down his chin. It doesn't throw him off, as when he makes his second throw, he still manages to hit the bullseye.
Leikr is a man known, after all, for never missing his mark.
********
[[Checkpoint: Monday, PM ->Restaurant Final]]You smile as you formulate a plan.
Just as the guard is about to pass your hiding place, you step out into the open. He recoils in shock.
"Excuse me," you say. "I seem to be quite lost. Could you point me in the direction of the kitchen for tonight's banquet? I believe I've been scheduled for the soup course."
He laughs as he eyes your thick thigh, turning to look back at the banquet hall before his brain realizes the question must be rhetorical, considering how enormous the building is. Just as his head turns back around, his jaw meets your left hook and you knock him out cold, dragging him back into the woods.
A few minutes later, you emerge wearing his military fatigues. Your hair is tucked tightly beneath his cap, concealing your face. You slip on the oversized aviator sunglasses from his pocket to hide any remaining feminine features. You also attach his headset to your ear, to complete the look.
As you pull his belt tight to your smaller waist, you feel a cell phone in your front pocket. You frantically dial the one number you know by heart.
You just hope she picks up.
"...hello?"
"Jenna, this is Scarlett. I need-"
Jenna gasps loudly into the phone.
"OH MY GOD, Scarlett! You're alive?! I thought for sure you were—"
"Eaten? Suffice to say I've been scheduled for dinner a few times already, but I have a habit of changing the menu."
"...yes. I thought once you were sold at the grocery store, it was over."
"You know about that?"
"...um. Well, yes. It's public record. You gave them your name and all. Also, this would mean your cover is blown."
You try and think back to the timeline of the grocery store, which feels like years ago now.
"That's not what's important, Scarlett. Where are you? Is Zoe with you?"
"I'm in front of the Bouvier Mansion and Banquet hall where Zoe is going to be cooked alive as one of the entrées. I see a front door, but I don't think I'll get very far just walking in. Can you pull up the satellite maps and tell me what other doors are on this property?"
"Just a moment."
You hear clicking on the other end of the phone as Jenna frantically types. You feel your body relax just a little bit
"It's good to hear your voice, Jenna. This really hasn't gone to plan. I have so much to tell you."
"I have...some things I want to tell you, too."
You smile.
"Later, Jenna."
"You could be dead later, Scarlett."
"I promise when I get back, you can tell me everything. But let's focus on getting Zoe - she could only have minutes left."
"...alright. I see a service door in the back. You just need to follow the fork in the road where they park for valet, and it's just a bit further down. It looks like they load up the kitchen directly from that door.
"Perfect. I'll be on my way then. I'll call back once I have Zoe for further instructions. Scarlett out."
You briskly walk to the back entrance noting that while every minute counts and, as far as you know, Zoe could already be chopped into bits and stewing in a pot. You decide not to think of that, as you didn't come this far to give up.
You notice a large supply truck pulled up to the service entrance, and two delivery drivers open the back of the truck and begin unloading boxes into the kitchen. You don't waste a moment before walking up to them.
They look at you curiously, and you gesture with your rifle for them to continue working.
"Nope, no need to be alarmed." you say in your best feigned male voice. "We just have a little extra security at this event. I'll escort you inside."
They stare at you curiously before one of the men nods.
"Alright. Man, that terrorist group has really messed up this country, hasn't it?"
"It sure has. I worry we haven't seen anything yet."
"Yeah, right. They're just women, after all. Sooner or later, they'll be caught, and we will all have chance to digest one of them in our stomachs."
You ignore their misogyny and continue with your plan.
The first thing you notice as you walk through the service door is how much oversized kitchenware and cookware line this top-of-the-line kitchen. There are human-sized ovens, stockpots, grills, and even a station of six spits lining the wall. The ways you could be prepared to perfection here are endless—every one of your fantasies is represented and available to you.
In a way, it's intoxicating, as you realize that you'd be absolutely delicious if you were prepared here—your ultimate fantasy realized, but also made into a culinary delight—even at your age, marbling, and the level of stress you've carried for so many years. But you've got to remain focused and remember:
What fate did the Baron have in store for Zoe?
[[You seem to remember he had planned for her to be cooked alive. Begin in that area. ->Banquet Mindbreak]]
[[You seem to remember he had planned for her to be slaughtered and then served at the banquet, as many of the guests would enjoy her taste, even if he did not. ->Banquet Mindbreak 6]]You step forward and launch Zoe over your shoulders into the SUV in front of you, and then hop in yourself.
"Hey, that HURT!" Zoe says.
The SUV is already moving, racing past the valet entrance as you grab the door and slide it shut.
You stand over Zoe as you look out the front window to see that the driver is driving straight over the courtyard lawn, directly toward the one road that leads in and out of this property. Security waves for the driver to stop, but they dive to the side to avoid getting hit by your speeding vehicle.
You turn to look over at the driver as your heart races—but as you realize who is driving, your heart beats differently than it did when your life was in danger. It beats like your life is becoming something more.
"Asher?!" you exclaim. "What are you doing here?"
"I told you already," he says, his eyes checking the rearview mirror several times for pursuit.
You find your way into the front passenger seat.
"You said not to save anyone unless I could save myself. You knew, didn't you?"
"Knew what? I told you I was coming to eat a very expensive meal, remember?"
You look at him dumbfounded, and he smiles. You feel a smile grow on your face, and you both laugh together, as you check the rearview mirror.
"Sorry to crash your big dinner party.” You jest. “I had to make a..."
You look back at Zoe, who is trying to crawl her way up into one of the seats.
"...I had to make a change to their menu. This one is with me."
"Scarlett, who is this? Your boyfriend?"
"Zoe, he's—"
"Wait... who is Scarlett?" Asher asks.
"She is, dummy," Zoe responds.
Asher does a double take at you before smiling.
"Scarlett... That's a beautiful name. It suits you much better than Claire."
"HEY!"
Zoe yells so loudly that both you and Asher jump in response. She rushes up to the rearview mirror, seeing something that terrifies her. You expect the worst and ready yourself for your next challenge in this crazy week in Dol—
"WHAT HAPPENED TO MY HAIR?!"
The SUV flies down the road, down the path, and back toward the city center.
---
As Asher pulls over to drop you off in the same alley where he left you a day ago, you hesitate to just climb out. You feel yourself missing him, even though he isn't gone.
*What is this uneasiness I'm feeling?*
You turn to Asher and offer him a handshake, but he pulls you in for a hug. You let him hold you for a while, and you nearly cry in his arms. You've been through so much this week—it's nice to just be vulnerable for a while.
As you gather yourself, your brain demands that you make sense of the one emotion it cannot understand.
"I'm not convinced that you don't work for somebody. It's an awful lot of coincidence that you've been everywhere I need you to be, you've always been looking out for me, and you're there to step in right when I'm in trouble. I don't know what the word for that is…"
"I think people used to call it romantic."
You blush but shake your head.
"I don't think that's exactly what I'm getting at, but…"
"But take my number," Asher adds. "Just in case you need me again. That way, you don't have to wonder about how I keep showing up."
"...Thanks," you say, sliding his card into your apron pocket. "I'll see you again soon?"
You close the door, and you skip away from the car to catch up with Zoe, a smile beaming on your lips.
[[Advance to: Thursday PM->Thurs PM Combined]][[OH GOD ->Spit Best]]-[[A ME SIZED OVEN ->Spit Best]]-[[I WANT IT I WANT IT ->Spit Best]]-[[SO BAD ->Spit Best]]-[[I WANT TO BE STRAPPED TO A PAN ->Spit Best]]-[[AND ROASTED ALIVE ->Spit Best]]-[[STUFF ME ->Spit Best]]-[[GUT ME ->Spit Best]]-[[AND BAKE ME TO PERFECTION ->Spit Best]]-[[GOD MY JUICES WOULD SOAK WELL IN WITH STUFFING ->Spit Best]]-[[OH WAIT IS THAT A GIANT POT ->Spit Best]]-[[IS THAT SOUP ->Spit Best]]-[[I LOVE SOUP ->Spit Best]]-[[I WANT TO BE SOUP ->Spit Best]]-[[BOIL ME AND SERVE ME ->Spit Best]]-[[AS AN APP ->Spit Best]]-[[OR HECK SOUP IS A MEAL ->Spit Best]]-[[PLEASE WITH SOME CRUSTY BREAD ->Spit Best]]-[[OR OMG A SPIT ->Spit Best]]-[[STICK IT THROUGH ME ->Spit Best]]-[[STICK ME LIKE A PIG ->Spit Best]] [[AND COOK ME OVER HOT OPEN FLAME ->Spit Best]]-[[LET ME FEEL THE HEAT ->Spit Best]]-[[LET ME FEEL MY FLESH SINGE OVER THE FIRE ->Spit Best]]-[[OR MAYBE PORTION ME OUT ->Spit Best]]-[[LET ME SEE THE MENU ->Spit Best]]-[[LET ME BE THE MENU ->Spit Best]]-[[LET ME FIND WHERE ZOE IS ->Chef intro]]-[[ JUST GIVE MYSELF UP ->Spit Best]]-[[AND LAY RIGHT DOWN ON THE CUTTING BOARD ->Spit Best]]-[[AND FEEL YOU CUT ME THE FUCK UP ->Spit Best]]-[[GOSH I COULD BE A GOURMET MEAL HERE ->Spit Best]]-[[NOT JUST SOME HOME COOKED WHATEVER ->Spit Best]]-[[AND THROWN AWAY ->Spit Best]]-[[BUT FINE FUCKING DINING ->Spit Best]]-[[I COULD BE ROAST SCARLETT ->Spit Best]]-[[OR EVEN SCARLETT SOUP ->Spit Best]]-[[OR SPITTED SCARLETT ->Spit Best]]-[[FUCK ZOE ->Spit Best]]-[[WHAT ABOUT ME ->Spit Best]]-[[WHAT ABOUT MY NEEDS ->Spit Best]]-[[THIS IS HOW IVE ALWAYS WANTED IT ->Spit Best]]-[[THE PERFECT MEAL ->Spit Best]]-[[NOW FINALLY ITS TIME ->Spit Best]]-[[OH GOD ->Spit Best]]-[[A ME SIZED OVEN ->Spit Best]]-[[I WANT IT I WANT IT ->Spit Best]]-[[SO BAD ->Spit Best]]-[[I WANT TO BE STRAPPED TO A PAN ->Spit Best]]-[[AND ROASTED ALIVE ->Spit Best]]-[[STUFF ME ->Spit Best]]-[[GUT ME ->Spit Best]]-[[AND BAKE ME TO PERFECTION ->Spit Best]]-[[GOD MY JUICES WOULD SOAK WELL IN WITH STUFFING ->Spit Best]]-[[OH WAIT IS THAT A GIANT POT ->Spit Best]]-[[IS THAT SOUP ->Spit Best]]-[[I LOVE SOUP ->Spit Best]]-[[I WANT TO BE SOUP ->Spit Best]]-[[BOIL ME AND SERVE ME ->Spit Best]]-[[AS AN APP ->Spit Best]]-[[OR HECK SOUP IS A MEAL ->Spit Best]]-[[PLEASE WITH SOME CRUSTY BREAD ->Spit Best]]-[[OR OMG A SPIT ->Spit Best]]-[[STICK IT THROUGH ME ->Spit Best]]-[[STICK ME LIKE A PIG ->Spit Best]] [[AND COOK ME OVER HOT OPEN FLAME ->Spit Best]]-[[LET ME FEEL THE HEAT ->Spit Best]]-[[LET ME FEEL MY FLESH SINGE OVER THE FIRE ->Spit Best]]-[[OR MAYBE PORTION ME OUT ->Spit Best]]-[[LET ME SEE THE MENU ->Spit Best]]-[[LET ME BE THE MENU ->Spit Best]]-[[LET ME FIND WHERE ZOE IS ->Chef intro]]-[[ JUST GIVE MYSELF UP ->Spit Best]]-[[AND LAY RIGHT DOWN ON THE CUTTING BOARD ->Spit Best]]-[[AND FEEL YOU CUT ME THE FUCK UP ->Spit Best]]-[[GOSH I COULD BE A GOURMET MEAL HERE ->Spit Best]]-[[NOT JUST SOME HOME COOKED WHATEVER ->Spit Best]]-[[AND THROWN AWAY ->Spit Best]]-[[BUT FINE FUCKING DINING ->Spit Best]]-[[I COULD BE ROAST SCARLETT ->Spit Best]]-[[OR EVEN SCARLETT SOUP ->Spit Best]]-[[OR SPITTED SCARLETT ->Spit Best]]-[[FUCK ZOE ->Spit Best]]-[[WHAT ABOUT ME ->Spit Best]]-[[WHAT ABOUT MY NEEDS ->Spit Best]]-[[THIS IS HOW IVE ALWAYS WANTED IT ->Spit Best]]-[[THE PERFECT MEAL ->Spit Best]]-[[NOW FINALLY ITS TIME ->Spit Best]]-[[OH GOD ->Spit Best]]
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}, 32_000);[[OH GOD ->Spit Best]]-[[A ME SIZED OVEN ->Spit Best]]-[[I WANT IT I WANT IT ->Spit Best]]-[[SO BAD ->Spit Best]]-[[I WANT TO BE STRAPPED TO A PAN ->Spit Best]]-[[AND ROASTED ALIVE ->Spit Best]]-[[STUFF ME ->Spit Best]]-[[GUT ME ->Spit Best]]-[[AND BAKE ME TO PERFECTION ->Spit Best]]-[[GOD MY JUICES WOULD SOAK WELL IN WITH STUFFING ->Spit Best]]-[[OH WAIT IS THAT A GIANT POT ->Spit Best]]-[[IS THAT SOUP ->Spit Best]]-[[I LOVE SOUP ->Spit Best]]-[[I WANT TO BE SOUP ->Spit Best]]-[[BOIL ME AND SERVE ME ->Spit Best]]-[[AS AN APP ->Spit Best]]-[[OR HECK SOUP IS A MEAL ->Spit Best]]-[[PLEASE WITH SOME CRUSTY BREAD ->Spit Best]]-[[OR OMG A SPIT ->Spit Best]]-[[STICK IT THROUGH ME ->Spit Best]]-[[STICK ME LIKE A PIG ->Spit Best]] [[AND COOK ME OVER HOT OPEN FLAME ->Spit Best]]-[[LET ME FEEL THE HEAT ->Spit Best]]-[[LET ME FEEL MY FLESH SINGE OVER THE FIRE ->Spit Best]]-[[OR MAYBE PORTION ME OUT ->Spit Best]]-[[LET ME SEE THE MENU ->Spit Best]]-[[LET ME BE THE MENU ->Spit Best]]-[[LET ME FIND WHERE ZOE IS ->ChefI]]-[[ JUST GIVE MYSELF UP ->Spit Best]]-[[AND LAY RIGHT DOWN ON THE CUTTING BOARD ->Spit Best]]-[[AND FEEL YOU CUT ME THE FUCK UP ->Spit Best]]-[[GOSH I COULD BE A GOURMET MEAL HERE ->Spit Best]]-[[NOT JUST SOME HOME COOKED WHATEVER ->Spit Best]]-[[AND THROWN AWAY ->Spit Best]]-[[BUT FINE FUCKING DINING ->Spit Best]]-[[I COULD BE ROAST SCARLETT ->Spit Best]]-[[OR EVEN SCARLETT SOUP ->Spit Best]]-[[OR SPITTED SCARLETT ->Spit Best]]-[[FUCK ZOE ->Spit Best]]-[[WHAT ABOUT ME ->Spit Best]]-[[WHAT ABOUT MY NEEDS ->Spit Best]]-[[THIS IS HOW IVE ALWAYS WANTED IT ->Spit Best]]-[[THE PERFECT MEAL ->Spit Best]]-[[NOW FINALLY ITS TIME ->Spit Best]]-[[OH GOD ->Spit Best]]-[[A ME SIZED OVEN ->Spit Best]]-[[I WANT IT I WANT IT ->Spit Best]]-[[SO BAD ->Spit Best]]-[[I WANT TO BE STRAPPED TO A PAN ->Spit Best]]-[[AND ROASTED ALIVE ->Spit Best]]-[[STUFF ME ->Spit Best]]-[[GUT ME ->Spit Best]]-[[AND BAKE ME TO PERFECTION ->Spit Best]]-[[GOD MY JUICES WOULD SOAK WELL IN WITH STUFFING ->Spit Best]]-[[OH WAIT IS THAT A GIANT POT ->Spit Best]]-[[IS THAT SOUP ->Spit Best]]-[[I LOVE SOUP ->Spit Best]]-[[I WANT TO BE SOUP ->Spit Best]]-[[BOIL ME AND SERVE ME ->Spit Best]]-[[AS AN APP ->Spit Best]]-[[OR HECK SOUP IS A MEAL ->Spit Best]]-[[PLEASE WITH SOME CRUSTY BREAD ->Spit Best]]-[[OR OMG A SPIT ->Spit Best]]-[[STICK IT THROUGH ME ->Spit Best]]-[[STICK ME LIKE A PIG ->Spit Best]] [[AND COOK ME OVER HOT OPEN FLAME ->Spit Best]]-[[LET ME FEEL THE HEAT ->Spit Best]]-[[LET ME FEEL MY FLESH SINGE OVER THE FIRE ->Spit Best]]-[[OR MAYBE PORTION ME OUT ->Spit Best]]-[[LET ME SEE THE MENU ->Spit Best]]-[[LET ME BE THE MENU ->Spit Best]]-[[LET ME FIND WHERE ZOE IS ->ChefI]]-[[ JUST GIVE MYSELF UP ->Spit Best]]-[[AND LAY RIGHT DOWN ON THE CUTTING BOARD ->Spit Best]]-[[AND FEEL YOU CUT ME THE FUCK UP ->Spit Best]]-[[GOSH I COULD BE A GOURMET MEAL HERE ->Spit Best]]-[[NOT JUST SOME HOME COOKED WHATEVER ->Spit Best]]-[[AND THROWN AWAY ->Spit Best]]-[[BUT FINE FUCKING DINING ->Spit Best]]-[[I COULD BE ROAST SCARLETT ->Spit Best]]-[[OR EVEN SCARLETT SOUP ->Spit Best]]-[[OR SPITTED SCARLETT ->Spit Best]]-[[FUCK ZOE ->Spit Best]]-[[WHAT ABOUT ME ->Spit Best]]-[[WHAT ABOUT MY NEEDS ->Spit Best]]-[[THIS IS HOW IVE ALWAYS WANTED IT ->Spit Best]]-[[THE PERFECT MEAL ->Spit Best]]-[[NOW FINALLY ITS TIME ->Spit Best]]-[[OH GOD ->Spit Best]]
[javascript]
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}, 22_000);You're still naked as you finally make your approach to Baron Louis Bouvier's mansion and banquet hall. You're able to obscure yourself in a shrub line that acts as a natural barrier to the courtyard area that is just ahead.
As your eyes catch the large building, you're taken aback for a moment by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the banquet hall - a beautiful structure surrounded by serene, calm forest. You realize that what is inside is the very opposite—a gathering of this world's oligarchy, and those that choose to dine with them. The currency on display here is not disposable income, but disposable women.
You hear a sound and duck down, watching as a lone guard strolls down the tree line just beyond you. Your eyes wander towards the front gate, where his partner is checking IDs at the gate for the limousines, taxis, and Ubers pulling up for the banquet - throwing out one guest at the entrance for not having a reservation. They clearly won’t be letting just anyone walk in here.
As you look back at the guard just as he walks past you, he stops, and your heart beats in your chest as he appears to be looking for something, or someone.
*They must be on to me; they must know that-*
He pulls a lighter out of his pocket and lights a cigarette, carelessly discarding the pack on the grass below. You realize he's wandered away for a smoke break, and most importantly, he appears to be alone.
[[Incapacitate him and steal his outfit. You can dump his body in the shrubs. ->Banquet Cont]]
[[Let him pass by and wait for another opportunity. Those glass windows are awful large and you are bound to be seen. ->Stock]]You're still wearing your LFD rags as you make your approach to Baron Louis Bouvier's mansion and banquet hall. You're able to obscure yourself in a shrub line that acts as a natural barrier to the courtyard area that is just ahead.
As your eyes catch the large building, you're taken aback for a moment by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the banquet hall - a beautiful structure surrounded by serene, calm forest. You realize that what is inside is the very opposite—a gathering of this world's oligarchy, and those that choose to dine with them. The currency on display here is not disposable income, but disposable women.
You hear a sound and duck down, watching as a single inept guard strolls down the tree line just beyond you. Your eyes wander towards the front gate, where his partner is checking IDs at the gate for the limosenes, taxis, and ubers pulling up for the banquet - throwing out one guest at the entrance for not having a reservation. As you look back at the guard just as he walks past you, he stops, and your heart beats in your chest as he appears to be looking for something.
*They must be on to me, they must know that-*
He pulls a lighter out of his pocket and lights a cigarette, carelessly discarding the pack on the grass below. You realize he's wandered away for a smoke break, and most importantly, he appears to be alone.
[[Incapacitate him and steal his outfit. You can dump his body in the shrubs. ->Banquet Cont]]
[[Let him pass by and wait for another opportunity. Those glass windows are awful large and you are bound to be seen. ->Stock]]You're still wearing your LFD rags as you finally make your approach to Baron Louis Bouvier's mansion and banquet hall. You're able to obscure yourself in a shrub line that acts as a natural barrier to the courtyard area that is just ahead.
As your eyes catch the large building, you're taken aback for a moment by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the banquet hall - a beautiful structure surrounded by serene, calm forest. You realize that what is inside is the very opposite—a gathering of this world's oligarchy, and those that choose to dine with them. The currency on display here is not disposable income, but disposable women.
You hear a sound and duck down, watching as a single inept guard strolls down the tree line just beyond you. Your eyes wander towards the front gate, where his partner is checking IDs at the gate for the limosenes, taxis, and ubers pulling up for the banquet - throwing out one guest at the entrance for not having a reservation. As you look back at the guard just as he walks past you, he stops, and your heart beats in your chest as he appears to be looking for something.
*They must be on to me, they must know that-*
He pulls a lighter out of his pocket and lights a cigarette, carelessly discarding the pack on the grass below. You realize he's wandered away for a smoke break, and most importantly, he appears to be alone.
[[Incapacitate him and steal his outfit. You can dump his body in the shrubs. ->Banquet Cont]]
[[Let him pass by and wait for another opportunity. Those glass windows are awful large and you are bound to be seen. ->Stock]]You cautiously follow behind the Maitre D, with the two men in suits following closely behind. As you enter the private dining area, there is only one diner, an older gentleman, immaculately dressed, with greying hair and a light beard, with his hands resting in his lap. He stares at you as you approach, but does not speak - like someone who is beyond the need for unncessary language.
There is a woman sitting across the table from the man, with her back to to you. You can see she's shaking, and that she's been bound by rope around her torso, which is then tied to her chair. As you walk alongside, you confirm, with a sense of relief, that it is Zoe. Her eyes meet yours and her face lights up, but a red ball gag is firmly wedged in her mouth, clasped behind her head.
You look to the man to speak, but he raises a hand, and quietly shakes his head. He raises one finger to his lips, indiciating the universal sign for quiet. The head chef wheels out a tray, on prestine white linen, with one dish, a plate covered by a stainless steel dome. The chef nervously places the plate in front of the man, and after a brief pause for effect, raises the lid to show an immaculately seared, garnished, and grilled cut of cunt steak.
The V shape cut came right from between a woman's legs, her mound, lips, and taint served whole, with fresh herbs sprinkled alongside, and a demi glace spooned on top by the chef before he nods and departs. The steak is served over a small bed of whipped potatoes and exactly three spears of asparagus.
You sneak a peak between Zoe's legs to make sure she's intact.
"Do you know how to cut a steak, Scarlett Sky?" The man says as he picks up his fork and knife, letting out a sigh like he's said what comes next a hundred times before. "You have to cut with the grain, not against the grain, to maximize the flavor of the animal."
He demonstrates as he starts at the bottom, carefully cutting through the perfectly medium well flesh, showing the grain lines to you, before adding just a touch of mashed potato to his bite before sliding it in his mouth.
"The other part..." He continues. "...is to make sure the animal has as peaceful an existance as possible. Not just at the moment of slaughter, but throughout it's entire lifespan. It's the essential element to maximize it's potential."
"Maybe the potential of whoever this was...was more than just ending up a meal." You say defiantely. "Maybe she had dreams, too." You say as your hand traces the pages of Dee's novel, still tucked in your dress pocket.
"Dreams are just a distraction for those destined to become dinner." He says, cutting a second bite. "I am Baron Louis Bouvier. And you, Scarlett Sky, have something that I want."
Your gaze drifts to Zoe, whose eyes are transfixed on the plate, watching as a third cut is made, this one with the outer lips being penetrated with a fork and slid into the Baron's mouth.
"No, not the girl." The Baron says, shaking his head. "Who would waste their time seeking THAT silly thing.."
"Mmmpph!" Zoe says in response.
"If you don't want the girl, then let her go." you demand.
"Mmmmph! Mmmmphhh!" Zoe says, rocking in her chair.
"I am willing to let you have the girl, and I can have you on a plane, home to North Carolina, tonight. Actually, within the hour..." He says, cutting now through the middle of the steak, now half devoured. "You just have to tell me what I want to know."
"Which is?"
"Mmmmmphh! MMMMPH! MMMPHH!" Zoe screams.
"Alright, enough, geez Zoe." You say, leaning over, unclasping her gag, studying to see if the Baron or his men react, which they do not.
"Whew. FINALLY. Like, where do you get off letting him talk to YOU like that?" Zoe says.
"Like what?" You confusingly ask.
"Your name is Claire, duh. He's been calling you Scarlett."
You sigh as the Baron laughs, cutting just underneath the clit, and placing the flesh in his mouth to chew.
"What a delectable creature."
"Thank you."
"Not you. This one..." He says, tapping his plate with his fork three times. "Aged twenty years, never knew pain, or stress, or hunger, or fear...just peace." he laments as he licks his lips, eyeing the clit, the last remaining cut of the cunt that remains on his plate. "I just want to restore peace, the peace of my sows has been disrputed for FAR too long, and I know you know by who..."
"...Phoenix..." You say, as you watch him slide what's left of this woman's cunt, clit included into his mouth and stare at you as he chews.
"Do you understand how much is...wasted...utterly WASTED...when Phoenix and her little gang of vagabonds comes rushing through my farms and steals my property? Even the ones they don't steal, or aren't killed trying to escape, are ruined..."
He slams a fist on the table as he says the word ruined.
"RUINED. Years of raising them for their flesh to be perfectly supple at slaughter, wasted when they rush off in FEAR by the disruption of these attacks. The strain on their innocent bodies is irrepairable, the quality of their meat forever taught. It's unacceptable."
"Yes, I could see how that would be disappointing for you, that these women could be seen by Phoenix as anything else except your future meal." You say smugly.
"Exactly. They aren't anything else but a future meal, for me, and for some who have the elevated tastes to appreciate it. So. Let me lay it all on the table for you. I know that yo know where these "Ladies for Dolcett" are hiding - you tell me where they are, I give you the girl. Everyone wins."
"And if I refuse?"
You ready your stance to strike quickly if you've got to fight your way out of this. You see a lack of confidence in their eyes, but their hands drift to guns in their jacket pockets. You'd just have to disarm them and then-
"Oh, let's knock off any ideas you have of solving this violence, that's the antithesis of everything I believe in." The Baron says, as he dabs his chin with a napkin and sets his plate aside. "I will not attempt to forcibly persuade you, or torture you, or anything of the sort. It is beneath me."
You you feel your hands instinctively lower as you find his speech to be believable.
"If you do not cooperate, I will simply take my property..." He says as he gestures to Zoe. "...home with me and she will be slaughtered, no, she will be cooked alive in 24 hours at a banquet for my closest friends. You don't solve my problem, your problem doesn't get solved. It's that simple."
"...I don't want to be eaten by you." Zoe says.
Baron Louis Bouvier laughs with his full belly, his head arching back, his chuckles echoing through the empty private dining hall.
"You don't have to worry about that, girl. I wouldn't lower myself to eating such a peasant. My tastes are much more refined."
" What do you mean lower yourself? What's that supposed to mean? I'm pretty sure I'd be FINE eating if you ask-"
" Zoe. That's enough." You say
"Hmph!" Zoe responds slumping in her seat.
"Yes, there are some who would find you fine eating indeed, especially after being spitted and roasted over an open flame for several hours."
Zoe gulps as she shrinks in her seat.
"So. That is the end of this conversation." The Baron says as he raises a hand, and one of his aides activates his headset. "You will either accept my offer and give me the location of these LFD women, who I will bring swiftly to justice, with your reward being the girl and first class airfare to the United States, tonight..."
"Or...?"
"Or this little one, that I understand you've been trying to save all week, will have a spit shoved through her body and set over the coals to be barbequed alive by this time tomorrow. The choice is yours."
[[Tell him you won't trade Phoenix's life for Zoe's. It's not right. ->Decline Deal]]
[[Accept his deal and help him find the whereabouts of the LFD hideout. Your mission was to save Zoe, and you have a clear path to do just that. ->Ending Letter C]]You wait as patiently as one can until you're called to be lined up to be killed like an animal. No, you realize. Not really like animals, but like wild game, running free. The only difference is that you KNOW you're about to be hunted, with those in pursuit eager to taste your flesh.
As you stand in line with the other four women, there is something very manufactured about this hunt. It has none of the majesty or mysticism of the forest of Puma's native land. Instead, it feels very corporatized, impossibly sterile.
Nothing about this feels like a true competition. If anything, it feels like you're being lined up for an execution. It's simply a matter of when and how you'll be taken. That is the entire atmosphere this waiting area embodies.
To your left, you see a wooden platform marked "Doe Pole", where successful hunters can hang their gutted and bled out kill by the ankles for a celebatory photo. To your right, you see a fire pit that has already been dug, with coals heating beneath a spit that will be shoved through an unlucky woman's body as she's cooked over the fire. Adjacent to you, connected to the hunting lodge, is a large processing room—a sort of butcher shop where your body can be brought in and cut into whatever pieces your hunter prefers. You notice they also sell Styrofoam coolers as well - everything they could need to have you processed, packed, and stored under ice before taking you home.
You hear a door open behind you and look as four men are led out to stand on the other side of the staging platform. Your curiosity sneaks a peek, but you're careful not to look too closely or draw too much attention to yourself. You don't want to invite any additional attention from them as it is -besides, to them, you're just quarry to hunt down, snuff, and then consume.
It's not like you're going to wish them good luck.
You notice a short, fat man staring directly at Becky, likely the coworker she's afraid of—he's got a rifle slung over his shoulder. Beside him stands an older man with a thick gray beard, casually testing the string of a bow, with several arrows still resting in his quiver. The third man has a large blade, long enough to be a short sword, sheathed on his back.
Then there's the fourth—a handsome, athletic young man, perhaps in his late twenties, who isn't carrying any equipment at all. He's wearing athletic shoes and shorts and is simply stretching as he prepares for the hunt. He looks over at you for a moment and smiles.
You quickly look away, just as your eye twitches and you feel a flush in your face. You try to fight off what you knew would be a problem when you signed up for this path to save Zoe. Puma was right when she challenged you during your training. There’s a reason her mindbreak tutorial was so effective: it was a true test of what would run through your mind as you try and survive here.
Your first hunt with her was extremely erotic, both when it was happening and every time you've thought about it when you've been jilling off. Despite the sterility of this place, you can feel yourself becoming aroused - the mix of adrenaline, terror, and excitement nearly overwhelming as you are seconds away from running for your life from men intent on harvesting your body for it's meat.
It is indeed The Most Dangerous game, you think to yourself just as the first horn sounds.
**********************
Your feet instinctively sprint forward, the same way a wild animal will run when it’s startled by a sudden noise in the wild. As you look around, you notice that only Alex, the athletic woman can keep up with you, and even then, you’re able to get ahead of her relatively quickly. The training and time you’ve put into your body have really paid off.
Only a few minutes into your run, you see a clearing that has large patches of grass you can hide in. You dig your heels in, remembering that to survive this hunt, you’re going to have to make the right decision that keep you alive.
[[Hide here in the clearing. The thick grass should be enough to keep your body obscured. ->Hamburger]]
[[Keep running and keep looking. Every hunter is bound to pass through here. ->Hunt 2]]"Fuck you, Kyle. You couldn't force me to do anything if you tried."
You scoff at the pimply face, wire-frame of the check-in "man" who you know would be lucky to be twenty.
He looks over at the clerk next to him, who shrugs and nods. You see a woman at the line adjacent shake her head at you, before looking at Kyle.
"You have the right."
Kyle reaches underneath the desk as he forces a smile.
"My apologies, Miss. Here, have a complimentary water while you wait."
You do realize that you're thirsty as you unseal the bottle, feeling reassured. It's safe, as the bottle was factory-sealed by a local distillery. You take a large gulp as you tap your finger on the desk.
"Oh, I'm afraid there's going to be a change in your reservation."
"How is that? An upgrade?"
"...You could say that. I'm moving your room to the restaurant next door. Because I'm going to be having you for dinner."
You go to say something, but it comes out only as a slur as whatever you drank takes over, and you drop to the floor.
Kyle shrugs as he walks around the counter, grabs you by the hair, and drags you directly into the restaurant that shares space with your hotel.
You don't wake up again before your blood is drained and portioned out for their dinner.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
At first glance, Kyle Miller does not appear to be anything special. He is a rather young average 21-year-old working an entry-level position at a major
hotel. Even that opportunity has been given to him - as Kyle is a man in Dolcett.
And being a man in this country comes with privilege.
As Kyle drags you by the hair across the floor of the hotel, he walks you right into the kitchen. The primarily female staff, minus one male who serves as head chef, stop meal service entirely just to accommodate Kyle's request.
Because Kyle is a man in Dolcett. And being a man comes with privilege.
He is seated at the best available table, a party of four women being scooted aside, as he waits for you as a meal to be prioritized to him. A female employee covers his shift at the reception desk, with the pay still going to him. He enjoys a complimentary drink as he leans back in his chair.
He thinks he's done this all on his own. But he is a male in Dolcett.
A plate is rushed over to him with your left glute presented as a glazed ham dinner, complete with a pineapple secured with a toothpick. He has requested and you have been plated with plain mashed potatoes and applesauce.
He remarks how satisfied he is that your glute, being thick with muscle, did not shrink in the cooking process. He takes his time to cut through your tender, pink flesh and slide it into your mouth.
He devours your left glute before ordering your right. The kitchen staff immediately get back to work, and he thinks it is all due to the hard work that he's put in, when he hardly works at all.
But for Kyle, no one challenges this reality. Because he benefits from the privilege of being a man in Dolcett.
*********
[[Checkpoint - Monday Afternoon, Customs ->Airplane, Customs Death]]You watch as she raises the mallet, and you admit to you yourself that you do think about how having your claws crushed first is a huge part of your fantasy, as you DO need to know there's no escape for you to surrender.
And it does get you off. Like, a lot.
But you also remember, just as the mallet is being thrust down, that you don't have claws at all. You pull your HAND back just as the mallet cracks the cutting board, and you look at and wiggle your fingers—human fingers—as you realize you're yourself again.
You hear Abutit growl as she raises the mallet to strike your hand, but you're able to slide down and hop to your feet, out of her reach, and compose yourself. You realize that YOU are in control of what is real and what is not real here—it's just a matter of composure, decisiveness, and rationale.
You look over at the boiling stainless steel pot.
"You're wrong, Abutit," you say. "Boiling isn't [[my biggest fantasy->Oven Appears]]. And THIS isn't real."
You look over at the pot and expect it to vanish, and it does, completely disappearing as if it never existed. You see the knife resting in the place where the pot once stood, and you grab it and point it at Abutit. She raises her hands and backpedals, cowering in a corner.
"Alright, dearie, [[you've won.->False Thurs PM]] I know when I've met my match."
Abutit sighs as she raises a hand, and the several locks, bolts, and latches that secure the [[door open->False Thurs PM]] one by one. As you peer out the doorway, you notice that the fork in the road now leads down [[a clear path->False Thurs PM]]—a path that leads out of the forest, with what appears to be the [[banquet hall->False Thurs PM]] you've been searching for in plain sight, under a mile away.
You could be to Zoe in minutes.
Abutit wiggles her fingers and a broom levitates to her. She makes a crying sound as she begins to sweep.
"You may go now. Please [[leave the knife; ->False Thurs PM]] it's a family heirloom. I have no more malice toward you, and I've [[lifted the curse->False Thurs PM]] over this wood. Best of luck on your journey, Zoe is waiting just beyond here."
[[Advance to: Thurs PM, Banquet Hall ->False Thurs PM]]Wait a minute, who in the hell are you.
3 to 4 assistant chefs grab you and pull you over to the head chef, who eyes you up and down as the clothes you are wearing are stripped off of you.
We really don't have time for this we're already behind on so many orders...
Suddenly, one of the waitresses bus in
They sent it back again. They said not rare enough.
The chef looks over at you and smiles.
Well, you just solved the problem for us. Turns out there's a pretty picky couple out there who likes their steak cooked blue. Do you know what blue rare is?
You gulp as you are picked up and howled over a searing hot griddle top, and casually dropped, your flesh searing as you scream out as you are seasoned and splashed with oil. You're held down by hands for just a few seconds until you're flipped back over and cooked on the other side. You gurgle as you feel the pain setting you into shock, as knives come out to begin cutting off. You're just seared flesh and arranging it on a plate.
You don't realize which parts of you are cut off to be blue, rare steak and the other parts that are cut off to be parts of other meals as you quietly lose consciousness and die just as you were being butchered into various cuts that will be served at the banquet.
Game over you were eating
Epilogue
A diner waits impatiently as the waitress runs out with a plate under a metal dish and Seth in front of him. He opens it to see your seared thigh flesh that appears to be barely cooked, just warmed and seared with a little bit of crust from the heat impact as he cuts off a piece casually and slides it in his mouth.
Now that's blue rare. Practically raw. Just how I like it.
You slips the wake up with $100 bill and slaps around the app as she rushes back to the kitchen. His wife takes a bite and agrees, and they dig in enjoying their meal.Blueberry runs over to the lines of people that surround the street, raising her neck and pointing at her scar. As she does, they turn away, there's something about a sow—a lower-class animal to many in the crowd—running by them showing the symbol of her status that just tunes them right out.
Meanwhile, the police captain begins a call on his walkie-talkie.
"No, I don't think anyone really heard them say they don't consent, actually. At least, there isn’t proof of it. We certainly have deniability, It's so loud here with the parade going on and all. Right. Okay. I’ll send the word."
Blueberry watches as the police captain draws his baton and nods to the deputy, and they march forward to subdue the LFD. Blueberry runs out to stop them, and is clubbed violently in the head and knocked unconscious and to the ground. She does not see that her effort to raise awareness of her kind was not only ineffective, but provided a pathway to their undoing.
GAME OVER. BLUEBERRY WAS EATEN.
Epilogue:
Blueberry's body is her only remaining form of communication, as her hands are shackled together at her forearms. Her body quivers as she peers out the window at the familiar sights of fences, fields, and then, as a tear rolls down her face, the red barn that serves as the headquarters for Bouvier Farms.
As she's marched off the van and signed over by the police, the sun is just rising on the morning after Phoenix's failed uprising. Blueberry is marched inside and taken directly to a woman overseeing several new and returning livestock. The woman, Mistress Everett, pauses what she's doing and walks straight over to Blueberry. She doesn't greet her with a hug but instead with a disapproving pinch at her thigh, stomach, and neck.
"Look what they've done to you, my poor Blueberry. Your meat is so taut, and they haven't even been feeding you. You were nearly ready for harvest the last time I saw you—"
Blueberry's eyes remain fixed on the floor as she continues to shake.
"Now, now. Don't be afraid. It's not good for your meat. I'm going to take care of everything now. Things are going to be just like they were."
Blueberry shakes her head back and forth.
"No? You don't want to go back to the farm? You don't want to be nice and plump and relaxed and have orgasms melt out of you just like before?"
Blueberry raises her shackled hands, and tries to force some sign language with her fingers.
"OH, did they try to teach you to speak? Well, that's no good. We can't have you trying to teach the other girls how to communicate here. That's okay, my poor Blueberry.”
Mistress Everett says as she reaches behind Blueberry’s ear to give a scratch, with Blueberry pulling away and grunting loudly.
“Oh, you sweet little berry. I've missed you so much, and it would be such a disappointment if you ever got away from me again. That's why, when I heard you were coming..."
Mistress Everett leans in.
"...I skipped breakfast."
Blueberry is dragged away as she desperately digs her feet into the dirt until she's finally carried to the slaughterhouse.
Later, Mistress Everett picks three blueberries from a bush outside the house she uses when she's off work. As she comes inside, she finishes flipping a stack of pancakes and arranges them neatly on a plate, dusting them with powdered sugar and adding a generous amount of syrup. She gently places the blueberries on top and carries the plate to her table.
As she does, she looks to her right at the six thick-cut rashers of bacon already prepared, carved from Blueberry's stomach. She neatly arranges the plate so the blueberries, pancakes, and bacon sit together.
"Everyone's here now. Just like they always should have been."
She takes a bite containing every part of the meal and slips it into her mouth, savoring the flavors of the blueberries and Blueberry’s rendered belly fat, the flavor melting on her tongue and settling in her stomach.
"I've waited a long time to taste you. Delicious."
Mistress Everett picks up a slice of Blueberry's bacon and chews on it as she watches the local news, where highlights of your “terrorist” act being overthrown and subdued are being framed as a failed uprising that, if anything, raised national pride in the established order.
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Friday AM: Inside the Parade ->Assault]]You're unable to break through the Aura of Varde as it carries you over the boiling soup. You look down and accept in your mind that it will cook you the moment it touches your body. Just as that fear rushes over you, you feel yourself being lowered in.
There's no escape. You're going to be eaten.
You scream out as the soup boils you alive, the liquid only slightly spilling over the top of the cauldron. You prefer it that way - if you're going to be boiled alive and eaten, you'd prefer that none of your broth goes to waste. Still, you yell out in agony, as you're lowered in from your thighs, to your waist, to your chest, to your neck.
You immediately become drowsy and nearly face-plant into the soup, and you can feel your flesh cooking off your bones.
"It's over," you admit to yourself. "I'm soup."
You feel yourself blackout as you fall backwards, the back of your hair dipping into the boiling liquid. The shock is enough to force one last effort to survive as you lunge forward, but it only results in your plunging face first into the boiling, your lungs screaming out as they are cooked from the inside. You feel yourself go limp as you quietly drown and surrender, accepting that you'll be quite tender when you're served for Abutit's dinner.
Abutit appears suddenly in front of you, snaps her fingers, and an apple appears in her hand.
"It's customary, isn't it? And who am I to forego tradition—especially one that helps eager little meals like you accept their fate?"
"I don't want to be soup. Please, please don't do this. Please let me-"
As she shoves the apple in your mouth, sweat pours into your eyes and you close your eyes shut to see. You feel a sudden rush as you're falling - down or asleep - or into death - you're not sure, so you force your eyes back open.
You gasp through the apple at what you see next - the broth is literally boiling around you, and you can feel your flesh melting off your bones. Your gaze meets Abutit and your eyes plead for help, for a rescue from this certain death, and she grins one more time - a grin this time of satisfaction, of certainity, that’s she convinced you that everything happening around you is very, very real.
The last thing you hear is the witch humming a light tune in her kitchen as she waits to dine on her pot of Scarlett Soup.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Abutit sits at the edge of the cauldron with a fork and peels parts flesh off of your bones with a fork. The soup continues to boil beside her, but the heat does not effect her. Even when a splash gets on her skin, she is unburned. If anything, her skin appears much clearer and smoother than before.
She digs her fork into your shoulder, peeling the last of your flesh off of your scapula. She slides the flesh into her mouth and her eyes wander for her next bite.
She picks at you, piece by piece, until there's nothing but your boiling bones in her pot.
Checkpoint:
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs AM, Mysterious Wood ->The Mysterious Wood]]Step by step, second by second, Puma gets closer. But you wait, your blade standing tall and true in front of you. You've listened to the message of the forest, and you'll have to continue fighting from underneath.
When she's close enough, she tries to knock your Chanir from your hand with one powerful slash, but you bring it back in front of you, limping backward. She jabs next, and you parry her strike. She breathes in and slices from multiple directions, with you deflecting, dodging, parrying, and dancing along with her, just as she said as this battle began: two equals locked in combat—only one outcome remaining.
Suddenly, she leaps, her body suspended in a second of finality, her positioning committed to one outcome.
Either she will kill you, or you will kill her.
There is no other outcome possible as she drives the icepick grip downward, thrusting her blade towards your heart.
You raise your aim high towards her neck, splitting through and against the rays of the sun just as she dives on top of you.
Two blades, one outcome.
Puma falls on top of you, and you both tumble into the dirt, leaves launching off the ground and hovering around you as silence overtakes the moment.
The first breath that is heard is Zoe’s.
Slow, quiet, questioning breaths. The sound of uncertainty—the battle concluded.
Puma rolls off the top of you, with her Chanir implanted deep into your heart.
You see nothing, as your eyes are vacant, the reflection of twlight forever frozen in them.
"...the forest has spoken..." Puma says, relief in her voice, the trial over.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Checkpoint:
Puma Catori appears fatigued as she walks into the log cabin that had served as her home for over decade before she met you. She hangs both Chanir knives, now stained with blood, on a specialized holster on her wall before walking over to the stove.
Inside a large stockpot, your bones are boiling. Some of the thicker ones have already cracked, your marrow leaking out, forming a hearty broth. This broth was Puma’s signature dish for many years, a dish that was your first taste of a woman five years ago when you survived your hunt. But this time, YOU are the being reduced to broth.
As she raises a spoon to her lips, she talks a large gulp without even blowing on it to cool. She squints as your broth burns her esophagus, but she smiles at the satisfaction that the essence of who you were is now nourishing her.
She paces back and forth, double and triple checking the refrigerator, freezer, and pantry to make sure that every part of your portioned body has been properly stored. She then opens her back door and places her hand on her latest quarry.
Zoe's lifeless body dangles from a nearby tree, a gash from Puma's Chanir has left a large hole in her throat. That wound was not Puma’s last point of entry, however, as Zoe has also gutted and bled out. She is simply next to be butchered, served, eaten, and stored.
But for now, all there is to do is wait.
Puma sits down on the couch in her old home, a cloud of dust rising from it. She taps her finger against her knee, looking around at the home and the life that used to be the center of her world. For five years, she has seldom come to this place, completely obsessed with her one mission—to keep you alive, to train you for the moment when you would be fully prepared to challenge her in combat.
To right the wrongs of your battle half a decade earlier.
Puma sits and stares at the wall for an hour. Two. Four.
A single tear rolls down her face before she makes any other expression. She then begins sobbing loudly, cradling her head in her hands and wailing to no one. Her ultimate goal has been achieved, but she has no remaining direction or purpose.
You digest in her stomach, but the digestion of what she has done to herself will take the rest of her solitary lifetime to break down.
*********************
[[Checkpoint: Friday PM, Sleeping Willow Forest ->Puma Battle Intro]]You turn and grab the arrow by the stem and pull with all of your might, and you're able to dislodge it just as a second arrow strikes the tree you are pinned to. You hear the sound of the bowstring going taut again just as you're able to start running, and a third arrow zips right past your hip. You should only have to avoid one more arrow before you can escape. Hopefully.
You hear the crack of the bow echo through the forest, birds scattering like they don't want to be present for what will come next. Something whizzes past you, and it feels like a mosquito has bitten the back of your leg, but you're able to keep running. You continue sprinting far out of sight, down the forest path.
You run as hard as you can until you're completely out of breath, doubling over and panting with your hands on your hips. As you bend your knees to catch your breath, a sharp pain shoots through the back of your left thigh. You glance over and gasp as you see an arrow sticking out of it. The arrow has pierced your left hamstring, and blood oozes down your leg.
You take a moment to find a tree stump to sit on and stretch out your injured leg so you can assess your situation.
*"Now you've done it, Scarlett. You've got an arrow in your leg. How are you going to save Zoe now?"*
You look around for something you could use as first aid, but you weren't provided with any tools. Leaves, bushes, and bark won't do—you need compression, disinfectant, and some way to get this arrow out of your body safely.
You try to pull it out, but it only causes the wound to bleed more, and you have to choke back a scream. As you try to stand, the adrenaline has worn off, and you're barely able to bend your leg, let alone run on it. You start to limp through the woods and realize that, even in a panic, you might only be able to move at a quarter of your normal speed. As you look up at the sun, you accept that quarter speed probably won't be enough to evade whoever is tracking you.
"I'm going to be eaten..." you quietly say to yourself.
You try to wipe the blood from the back of your leg, but it continues to stream down. As you do, your eyes follow the droplets of blood stretching from the direction you ran, as far as your vision can reach. A clear trail of blood is leading whoever shot you directly to your location.
You stand and realize that you've got to find some way to get away from the area that he's clearly tracking you toward. As you do, you hear the bow go taut again, and you just close your eyes. An arrow wedges directly into your right shoulder blade as you scream out in pain and hunch forward. You look down and see that the arrow tip has penetrated through the front of your body, just above your breast.
You try to walk forward, still trying to escape. A third arrow tears its way into your lung, knocking the wind out of you as you tumble over face down.
"Fuck... I'm dinner. I'm fucking dinner."
You spit up blood onto the ground below and try to crawl away, driven purely by survival instincts as life leaks out of your body from three locations. You can hear the crumpling of leaves as the man who put three arrows into your body slowly approaches. You feel his boot press into your glute, holding you in place for a minute before he shoves you onto your back.
He sits on your belly, which jams the arrow in your thigh even deeper, causing you to scream out. Your body goes limp as you stare vacantly at the sky.
"You're not going to beg for your life, doe?" he taunts.
Your eyes scan the three arrows sticking out of you as you slowly shake your head. There's an arrow in your lung. There's an arrow in your shoulder. There's an arrow in your leg. Your Hunter is sitting on top of your lap, pinning you down to the ground. There's no escape from what comes next.
And yet, you don't want to give him the satisfaction of groveling. You've spent so much time on this trip, in the last five years of your life, fighting for your identity. You decide not to surrender it in your final moments.
"...no...you can take my life, but I won't give you who I am." you say as you cough up blood.
"Uh huh. What you mean is who you WERE, meat." He says, pulling an arrow out of his quiver. "But that is where you're wrong."
"...I'm Scarlett Sky. I'm the CEO of-"
He jams the arrow into your windpipe, pinning your neck to the ground, as you struggle to gasp for air.
"No, you're what you've always been whether you accept it or not - meat for a man's plate."
Your legs kick behind you vigorously until they slow, until you, Scarlett Sky, goes still. The proud leader of SkyCorp is now nothing but a conquered doe, soon to be roasted over open flame.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Your body, now slathered in barbecue sauce, slowly turns on a rotisserie as a spit has been shoved through your mouth and out of your pussy. As you turn in the early evening light, parts of you have been cut off - a slice off your rump, a few ribs, part of your thigh, one of your breasts.
Your hunter sits at a nearby picnic table, chewing through a a bite of your muscular, cooked flesh. All of your training is no match for his teeth, as he slowly grinds you down and swallows down his throat. He simply eats peacefully staring out into the hunting ground, his work complete for the day.
He will never know who you were - and even if he did, he wouldn't care. To him - you were just one more doe that he hunted, tagged, and once he's had his fill, he will throw unceremoniously into the back of his truck.
You'll be butchered later in the garage of his home.
*************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs AM, The Hunt Begins ->Begin Hunt]]You don't want to give Mistress Everett the satisfaction, but as you scream out in pain, the sound that echoes from your lungs resembles that of a cow.
"MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
As you feel the pressure of the hot iron lift from your cheek, the heat and pain remains. A farm hand pulls out a mirror, and you look back at your seared rump - you're absolutely and permanently branded as livestock and as the property of Bouvier Farms. One more piece of your humanity, independence, and hope for escape has been stripped from you.
Mistress Everett tucks the scalpel back in her pocket.
"I'm glad you agree on the sound you make. You're one step closer to your true purpose."
Mistress Everett walks in front of you as you're walked deeper into the barn. The pain on your ass is relentless, and you shake your hips trying to do anything to bring a little bit of cooling air on your body.
"A life without pain is what awaits you upon acceptance, sow. When I see you break—and trust me, I'll be able to tell—all of this will stop, and you'll live out your existence as a well-kept and treasured pet. I'll even make sure that my portion of you is cooked and served with the things you enjoy—that is how you really bring out the flavor of a sow."
You're brought into a very clinical-looking room with white tile floors and fluorescent lights, more akin to a doctor's office. You note to yourself that blood would certainly stain this place, and you're likely safe from slaughter here. But then your mind wanders—what could be the purpose of this room?
You notice that at the center of the room is a chair, similar to one you'd sit in at the OB-GYN, except that as you're placed into it, you sit in reverse. You are positioned belly-down, with your legs strapped into stirrups. A man in a lab coat walks over and adjusts your height with a foot pedal.
"What's our quota for this one, Mistress?"
Mistress Everett flips a few pages on her clipboard, tracing her finger down a list.
"Slaughtered three today. There's a big banquet at the Baron's tonight. So I'm thinking..."
You feel the Mistress's hand trace over your belly.
"...triplets... for her first litter..."
You feel your body try and jump out of the stirrups, and the entire seat rocks as you struggle to escape. Your breathing intensifies as you see a large machine lined up with the entrance of your cunt, which is extremely vulnerable in the doggy style position you've been mounted in. You see on the end of the machine is what appears to be a very flesh like, but artificial penis, complete with a thick head and veins running down the shaft.
“Now, say hello to the good doctor here, sow…” Mistress Everett says, flashing the scalpel in front of your eyes.
“Moo…” you say through gritted teeth, not wanting to lose your voice.
“The good doctor is going to bring you to the peak of the female experience. This machine is actually the latest advancement in AI technology…”
You feel various monitoring devices being attached to your body. What appears to be a blood pressure cuff, EEG nodes, and an oxygen monitor are attached. An aide walks over with a thermometer, but Mistress Everett pauses them with a hand and takes it herself, sliding it gently into your anus.
"...it is able to determine your level of arousal every second..." Mistress Everett continues.
The machine whirrs to life as the penis slowly advances towards your waiting vagina. It doesn't stop for any pomp or circumstance as it presses inside, stopping only when it detects that it's reached your inner back wall.
"...moo..." you utter out, your eyes slamming shut as you bite your lip. You haven't been penetrated in so long. You've tried to deny that this entire experience hasn't at least been somewhat arousing, but now with a robotic cock inside you, you feel yourself starting to slip.
A screen lights up and you watch as your vitals load up on the screen.
"...you see, the machine will automatically adjust it's depth, speed, and intensity to match what your body craves. It will not treat you like a person, as you are NO LONGER ONE, but as a sow that is to be bred. And..."
Mistress Everett leans down to whisper in your ear.
"...when it detects you have an orgasm, and the entrance to your womb opens, it will soak your ovaries will a specially engineered semen that will produce the amount of calves we desire."
She slaps you on the ass and gestures to the doctor, who nods and presses some buttons.
"How do you think we keep up with the population demands here, with the amount of women we have to replenish daily?"
You feel the machine slowly slide out, and then in again, as it begins to collect data on how you like to be fucked.
"You might as well give in to your desires now. Good sows get to be masturbated like this daily, even if they're already bred. It's your reward for obedience."
You feel yourself moan out and various metrics flash on the screen that you don't understand. You DO know that the most aroused you feel, the higher the gauges go, and you can feel the first of many orgasms building. Your legs start to quake and the machine responds by pumping you harder, deeper, at a consistent pace, JUST how you like.
" Give in to us, sow, and you'll experience soul shattering orgasms every day for the rest of your short, peaceful life." Mistress Everett concludes, watching the screen as your numbers rise.
You close your eyes and feel your body tense up. You're going to cum. It's only a matter of if you're still YOU when the orgasm is over.
[[Your orgasm is about to rip through your body. You can't avoid it. Do your best to not enjoy it so much that it destroys your mind completely. ->Breeding Mindbreak]]
[[Allow yourself to orgasm so hard that you'll be so spent, that there will be no way they can get another one out of you. ->Breeding 1 Ending 7]]As the breeding machine fills you with semen, you feel something break - not inside your womb, which is flooded, or in the lines of your vagina itself, but in your mind. It's a purely hormonal response to being bred that you just can't overcome, as an instinct to nurture, grow, and submit completely takes over your being. You feel your tongue jut out and hang loose from your mouth as you pant in the heat, semen running down your leg.
"Well, it looks like we broke this one." The man in the lab coat says, looking up at the machine.
CONVERSION COMPLETE.
Mistress Everett pulls you by the back of the hair and stairs directly into your cum drunk, horny, sedated eyes. There's no fight left in you. You've completely forgotten the name of the girl that you wanted to save.
“Just one more thing…hand me a scalpel.”
Your body reacts with a a quiver, but you do not resist as she slits down your throat to sever your vocal cords. It barely processes in what’s left of your mind that you’ll never speak again. Instead, you wait patiently for your new Mistress to dab your neck with a tissue to stop the blood from flowing down your neck.
“Now. Tell me what you are, sow.”
"Moo."
“You can do better than that.”
She snaps her fingers and the breeding machine is reloaded and restarted in your cunt.
“I said tell me what you sow, and I'll make you squeal again.”
The machine presses inside of you and begins to flood you with more semen. Your eyes bulge and you scream out as you reach a second of many orgasms to cum today.
"MOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!'"
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Lap. Lap. Lap. Lap.
Your tongue works tirelessly as it continues to lick, like you’re wearing down a scoop of ice cream on a cone. But, the only thing you're wearing down is the clit of another sow, as you both lay mindlessly in the grazing field This is your life now, your existence reduced to giving and receiving pleasure.
At this point, as kept livestock for several months, they are one in the same.
You feel a familiar scratch at your back of your ear, but you don't lift your head, feeling the juicy sweet nectar of this sow’s release so close. You continue to lick, and press, and you don't use fingers, as you’ve lost-
The sow you are pleasing squirts all over your face. You eagerly trying to lick it up with your tongue. She screams out as she grips the back of your head, finishing wave after wave of pleasure, before casually tossing you aside. As you look up, you see Mistress Everett standing over you.
That's a good girl, Melody. You did a GOOD job tenderizing that little sow, didn't you?
Your butt eagerly wags back and forth as you look up at your Mistress. Your belly hangs and drags into the dirt, every part of your torso and limbs, thicker and fuller of fatty flesh from head to toe. Except...
As you sit back on your rump, and display your arms and legs forward, they've been severed at the elbows and knees. You don’t remember when, but a few weeks ago, you were reduced as the Mistress wanted her first taste of you
The Mistress continues to scratch at the back of your ear, reminding you how delicious you tasted when she roasted and pulled the flesh from your forearms and calves. She coos in your ear that your time to be harvested is near. You can't wait. You're so eager to provide your entire body to it’s true purpose – farm to table meat to a plate.
**************
[[CHECKPOINT: Thurs AM, Livestock ->Livestock]]MINDBREAK
[[HOLY FUCK ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IM GOING TO FUCKING CUM ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND IM GOING TO BE BRED ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[SHE SAID TRIPLETS ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IM GOING TO BE IMPREGNATED ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND KEPT AS LIVESTOCK ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[FATTENED THE FUCK UP ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND THEN EATEN ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IM A COW AT THIS POINT ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IM LITERALLY A FARM ANIMAL ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[WHY AM I FIGHTING THIS ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[WHAT A PERFECT LIFE ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[ORGASMS DAILY ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[NO WORRIES ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[EAT MY FILL ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[CUM ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND OMG FINALLY RELAX ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[GOD THEY ARE GOING TO CUT MY VOICE OUT TOO ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND THEN CUT ME UP INTO LITTLE PIECES ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[JUST LIKE THEY PROCESSED PEACHES ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[SHE WAS SLAUGHTERED LIKE AN ANIMAL ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IM GOING TO BE SLAUGHTERED LIKE AN ANIMAL ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[BUT NOT BEFORE THEY FATTEN ME UP ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND BREED ME ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[HANG THE FUCK ON ->Breeding 2]]-[[AND OMG DID SHE SAY MILK EARLIER ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[I CANT FIGHT THIS THERES NO POINT ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[THIS MACHINE IS SO GOOD ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[OH GOD ITS FUCKING ME SO GOOD ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[ITS PERFECT BETTER THAN ANY MAN ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND IM GOING TO GO CUM MY BRAINS OUT ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND JUST BE GONE AND VACANT ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND DROOLING ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND STUFF MY STUPID FAT FACE ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IN A TROUGH AND GRAZE MINDLESSLY ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[HOLY FUCK ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IM GOING TO FUCKING CUM ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND IM GOING TO BE BRED ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[SHE SAID TRIPLETS ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IM GOING TO BE IMPREGNATED ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND KEPT AS LIVESTOCK ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[FATTENED THE FUCK UP ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND THEN EATEN ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IM A COW AT THIS POINT ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IM LITERALLY A FARM ANIMAL ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[WHY AM I FIGHTING THIS ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[WHAT A PERFECT LIFE ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[ORGASMS DAILY ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[NO WORRIES ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[EAT MY FILL ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[CUM ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND OMG FINALLY RELAX ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[GOD THEY ARE GOING TO CUT MY VOICE OUT TOO ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND THEN CUT ME UP INTO LITTLE PIECES ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[JUST LIKE THEY PROCESSED PEACHES ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[SHE WAS SLAUGHTERED LIKE AN ANIMAL ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IM GOING TO BE SLAUGHTERED LIKE AN ANIMAL ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[BUT NOT BEFORE THEY FATTEN ME UP ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND BREED ME ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[HANG THE FUCK ON ->Breeding 2]]-[[AND OMG DID SHE SAY MILK EARLIER ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[I CANT FIGHT THIS THERES NO POINT ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[THIS MACHINE IS SO GOOD ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[OH GOD ITS FUCKING ME SO GOOD ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[ITS PERFECT BETTER THAN ANY MAN ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND IM GOING TO GO CUM MY BRAINS OUT ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND JUST BE GONE AND VACANT ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND DROOLING ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND STUFF MY STUPID FAT FACE ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IN A TROUGH AND GRAZE MINDLESSLY ->Breeding 1 Ending]]
[javascript]
const old = passage.name;
setTimeout(() => {
if (old === passage.name) go("Breeding 1 Ending");
}, 21_000);Your entire body shakes as you scream out in orgasm, with you holding your eyes closed to try and keep hold of yourself, and not give in to your deisre to be a broken, drooling farm animal.
"MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" You force yourself to groan out a sow's sound, at least preserving your voice, for now.
Just as a rush of dopamine floods your body, you feel the machine flood your womb with cum, the pumping of the hot seed unmistakable as you feel yourself bred over and over again. The amount of semen pumped into you is unbelievable, it immediately begins overflowing and leaking down your legs as your snatch can't hold even a portion of it in, and your eyes roll as the last waves of release flood through you.
You pant as you stare through blurred vision, trying to remember why you are here, what you are doing, and why you'd ever want to do anything other than feel THAT again, over and over, for as long as you shall live.
You think as hard as you can.
Zoe.
You have to save Zoe.
You pull yourself back, and look up at the screen. You see that your arousal statistics are still about half full, and the machine pulls out from being balls deep and begins pumping again. Your gauges rise and you realize you're going to cum again, and you can't believe you're going to have to fight this off twice.
"Stop resisting, sow." Mistress Everett says. "Look, look."
You look up at the screen as the bottom right corner flashes from red to green.
FERTILIZATION COMPLETE.
"...moo..." You grunt out in despair, realizing that you've already been impregnated.
"That's right. Branded, collared, and now, bred. Why do you think you're anything other than a sow? You can't fight biology, and based on your breathing, you can't fight what's happening next, either."
The thought of being a bred farm animal edges you extremely close, and you're only seconds away from a second orgasm. You bite your lip and do your best to hang on to your mission.
[[You're out of ideas. You're just going to survive this orgasm and see what happens next. ->Breeding Mindbreak 2 7]]
[[Fuck, you've been bred. But you can't end up dinner too. Keep fighting!->Breeding Mindbreak 2]]You try your damnest to resist as a second orgasm rushes through your body. As you try to cling to being anything else than bred livestock, a phrase continues to repeat over and over in your brain that you just can't deny.
FERTILIZATION COMPLETE.
The bright green lettering that flashed on the screen has seared into your mind. As much as you want to remain yourself, you can't deny that you have been impregnated specifically for the purpose of producing calves and continuing to perpetuate the cycle of slaughter that defines the country you are now property of. Every time you try to shake those thoughts away and stay yourself, it just keeps coming back to you.
FERTILIZATION COMPLETE.
Complete, as in final. Unchangeable. Concluded. Finished.
You're finished, you realize, as the second orgasm suicides, and your tongue juts out of your mouth. You look sloppily at Mistress Everett and she says words that you no longer are able to process. You just simply nod eagerly, ready for your next release.
And the next. And another. And the one after.
A lifetime of unlimited orgasms doesn't sound so bad in fact. It sounds...
The machine whirrs to life again as you feel a slicing pain at your throat.
...it feels complete.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
You lay on your back in the grazing fields to give your stomach some relief. A scar runs down your belly where the last litter had to be removed via C-section, as you've had so much wear and tear over the years. You've lost count of how many calves you produced, which gets somehow easier every time.
You've never met any of them. You've only heard some of them cry, before they were quickly taken away.
"I'm sorry. We find that our breeders get a little too attached if we let them graze in the same field as their calves. But don't worry, they'll be well taken care of. They'll never know pain, they'll never know suffering, they'll never know a moment of stress. Long after you're gone, they'll play and be free and when they are fully grown, they'll be on a plate, just like you.
As you're dragged off, you don't know if it's for your next litter, your next feeding, or if it's finally time for your slaughter. You accept any purpose given to you, as you gave up being anything else but a mindless breeding sow long ago. Any semblance of decision making, personal choice, or rights of a human being have long evacuated your body the moment they broke your mind, your transformation from Scarlett Sky to Scarlett Sow long since complete.
**************
[[CHECKPOINT: Thurs AM, Livestock ->Livestock]]MINDBREAK
[[HOLY FUCK ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IM GOING TO FUCKING CUM ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND IM GOING TO BE BRED ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[SHE SAID TRIPLETS ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IM GOING TO BE IMPREGNATED ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND KEPT AS LIVESTOCK ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[FATTENED THE FUCK UP ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND THEN EATEN ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IM A COW AT THIS POINT ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IM LITERALLY A FARM ANIMAL ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[WHY AM I FIGHTING THIS ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[WHAT A PERFECT LIFE ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[ORGASMS DAILY ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[NO WORRIES ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[EAT MY FILL ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[CUM ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND OMG FINALLY RELAX ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[GOD THEY ARE GOING TO CUT MY VOICE OUT TOO ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND THEN CUT ME UP INTO LITTLE PIECES ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[JUST LIKE THEY PROCESSED PEACHES ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[SHE WAS SLAUGHTERED LIKE AN ANIMAL ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IM GOING TO BE SLAUGHTERED LIKE AN ANIMAL ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[BUT NOT BEFORE THEY FATTEN ME UP ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND BREED ME ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[HANG THE FUCK ON ->Breeding 2]]-[[AND OMG DID SHE SAY MILK EARLIER ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[I CANT FIGHT THIS THERES NO POINT ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[THIS MACHINE IS SO GOOD ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[OH GOD ITS FUCKING ME SO GOOD ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[ITS PERFECT BETTER THAN ANY MAN ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND IM GOING TO GO CUM MY BRAINS OUT ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND JUST BE GONE AND VACANT ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND DROOLING ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND STUFF MY STUPID FAT FACE ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IN A TROUGH AND GRAZE MINDLESSLY ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[HOLY FUCK ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IM GOING TO FUCKING CUM ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND IM GOING TO BE BRED ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[SHE SAID TRIPLETS ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IM GOING TO BE IMPREGNATED ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND KEPT AS LIVESTOCK ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[FATTENED THE FUCK UP ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND THEN EATEN ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IM A COW AT THIS POINT ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IM LITERALLY A FARM ANIMAL ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[WHY AM I FIGHTING THIS ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[WHAT A PERFECT LIFE ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[ORGASMS DAILY ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[NO WORRIES ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[EAT MY FILL ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[CUM ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND OMG FINALLY RELAX ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[GOD THEY ARE GOING TO CUT MY VOICE OUT TOO ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND THEN CUT ME UP INTO LITTLE PIECES ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[JUST LIKE THEY PROCESSED PEACHES ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[SHE WAS SLAUGHTERED LIKE AN ANIMAL ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IM GOING TO BE SLAUGHTERED LIKE AN ANIMAL ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[BUT NOT BEFORE THEY FATTEN ME UP ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND BREED ME ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[HANG THE FUCK ON ->Breeding 2]]-[[AND OMG DID SHE SAY MILK EARLIER ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[I CANT FIGHT THIS THERES NO POINT ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[THIS MACHINE IS SO GOOD ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[OH GOD ITS FUCKING ME SO GOOD ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[ITS PERFECT BETTER THAN ANY MAN ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND IM GOING TO GO CUM MY BRAINS OUT ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND JUST BE GONE AND VACANT ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND DROOLING ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[AND STUFF MY STUPID FAT FACE ->Breeding 1 Ending]]-[[IN A TROUGH AND GRAZE MINDLESSLY ->Breeding 1 Ending]]
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[[OMG IVE BEEN FERTILIZED->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[THEYVE FUCKING BRED ME->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[HOW CAN I BELIEVE IM STILL ME->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[IM LITERALLY A BRED FARM ANIMAL NOW->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[THERES NO HOPE->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[NO ESCAPE->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[IM GOING TO HAVE CALVES->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[TRIPLETS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[IM EXPECTING ->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[CARRYING->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[A BUN IS LITERALLY IN MY OVEN->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND THEN IM GOING TO BE SHOVED IN AN OVEN->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[OR PLACED BETWEEN BUNS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[GOD IM A COW->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[IM A PIG->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[IM A LAMB->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[THATS SOON LED TO SLAUGHTER->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[GOSH WHAT IS MISTRESS GOING TO EAT ME WITH->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[I WANT TO CALL HER MISTRESS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND OBEY->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND ORGASM OVER AND OVER->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[GOD THAT ORGASM WAS GOOD->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[HOLY FUCK IS THIS MACHINE GOOD->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[I CAN HAVE THIS EVERY DAY IF IM GOOD->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[WHY SHOULDNT I BE A GOOD SOW->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[WHY SHOULDNT I ESCAPE->Milking]]-[[AND FATTEN MYSELF UP->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND RELAX->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[JENNA CAN RUN SKYCORP->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[ILL JUST BE SCARLETT SOW->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND BE FATTENED UP->Breeding 2 Ending]] -[[UNTIL IM TURNED INTO HAMBURGERS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND STEAKS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND PORK CHOPS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND ROASTS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND STEW->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND TOP FUCKING SIRLOIN->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[I BET THEY ARE GOING TO CUT ME INTO SO MANY MEALS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND ILL FILL SO MANY STOMACHS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[THAT IS MY PURPOSE->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[THIS IS MY FATE->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[TO BE CONSUMED TO BE DIGESTED AS A FARM ANIMAL->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[OMG IVE BEEN FERTILIZED->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[THEYVE FUCKING BRED ME->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[HOW CAN I BELIEVE IM STILL ME->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[IM LITERALLY A BRED FARM ANIMAL NOW->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[THERES NO HOPE->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[NO ESCAPE->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[IM GOING TO HAVE CALVES->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[TRIPLETS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[IM EXPECTING ->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[CARRYING->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[A BUN IS LITERALLY IN MY OVEN->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND THEN IM GOING TO BE SHOVED IN AN OVEN->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[OR PLACED BETWEEN BUNS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[GOD IM A COW->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[IM A PIG->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[IM A LAMB->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[THATS SOON LED TO SLAUGHTER->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[GOSH WHAT IS MISTRESS GOING TO EAT ME WITH->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[I WANT TO CALL HER MISTRESS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND OBEY->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND ORGASM OVER AND OVER->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[GOD THAT ORGASM WAS GOOD->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[HOLY FUCK IS THIS MACHINE GOOD->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[I CAN HAVE THIS EVERY DAY IF IM GOOD->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[WHY SHOULDNT I BE A GOOD SOW->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[WHY SHOULDNT I ESCAPE->Milking]]-[[AND FATTEN MYSELF UP->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND RELAX->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[JENNA CAN RUN SKYCORP->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[ILL JUST BE SCARLETT SOW->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND BE FATTENED UP->Breeding 2 Ending]] -[[UNTIL IM TURNED INTO HAMBURGERS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND STEAKS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND PORK CHOPS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND ROASTS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND STEW->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND TOP FUCKING SIRLOIN->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[I BET THEY ARE GOING TO CUT ME INTO SO MANY MEALS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND ILL FILL SO MANY STOMACHS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[THAT IS MY PURPOSE->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[THIS IS MY FATE->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[TO BE CONSUMED TO BE DIGESTED AS A FARM ANIMAL->Breeding 2 Ending]]-
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[[OMG IVE BEEN FERTILIZED->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[THEYVE FUCKING BRED ME->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[HOW CAN I BELIEVE IM STILL ME->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[IM LITERALLY A BRED FARM ANIMAL NOW->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[THERES NO HOPE->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[NO ESCAPE->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[IM GOING TO HAVE CALVES->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[TRIPLETS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[IM EXPECTING ->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[CARRYING->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[A BUN IS LITERALLY IN MY OVEN->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND THEN IM GOING TO BE SHOVED IN AN OVEN->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[OR PLACED BETWEEN BUNS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[GOD IM A COW->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[IM A PIG->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[IM A LAMB->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[THATS SOON LED TO SLAUGHTER->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[GOSH WHAT IS MISTRESS GOING TO EAT ME WITH->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[I WANT TO CALL HER MISTRESS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND OBEY->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND ORGASM OVER AND OVER->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[GOD THAT ORGASM WAS GOOD->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[HOLY FUCK IS THIS MACHINE GOOD->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[I CAN HAVE THIS EVERY DAY IF IM GOOD->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[WHY SHOULDNT I BE A GOOD SOW->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[WHY SHOULDNT I ESCAPE->Milking]]-[[AND FATTEN MYSELF UP->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND RELAX->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[JENNA CAN RUN SKYCORP->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[ILL JUST BE SCARLETT SOW->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND BE FATTENED UP->Breeding 2 Ending]] -[[UNTIL IM TURNED INTO HAMBURGERS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND STEAKS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND PORK CHOPS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND ROASTS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND STEW->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND TOP FUCKING SIRLOIN->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[I BET THEY ARE GOING TO CUT ME INTO SO MANY MEALS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND ILL FILL SO MANY STOMACHS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[THAT IS MY PURPOSE->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[THIS IS MY FATE->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[TO BE CONSUMED TO BE DIGESTED AS A FARM ANIMAL->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[OMG IVE BEEN FERTILIZED->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[THEYVE FUCKING BRED ME->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[HOW CAN I BELIEVE IM STILL ME->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[IM LITERALLY A BRED FARM ANIMAL NOW->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[THERES NO HOPE->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[NO ESCAPE->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[IM GOING TO HAVE CALVES->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[TRIPLETS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[IM EXPECTING ->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[CARRYING->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[A BUN IS LITERALLY IN MY OVEN->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND THEN IM GOING TO BE SHOVED IN AN OVEN->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[OR PLACED BETWEEN BUNS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[GOD IM A COW->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[IM A PIG->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[IM A LAMB->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[THATS SOON LED TO SLAUGHTER->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[GOSH WHAT IS MISTRESS GOING TO EAT ME WITH->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[I WANT TO CALL HER MISTRESS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND OBEY->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND ORGASM OVER AND OVER->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[GOD THAT ORGASM WAS GOOD->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[HOLY FUCK IS THIS MACHINE GOOD->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[I CAN HAVE THIS EVERY DAY IF IM GOOD->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[WHY SHOULDNT I BE A GOOD SOW->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[WHY SHOULDNT I ESCAPE->Milking]]-[[AND FATTEN MYSELF UP->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND RELAX->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[JENNA CAN RUN SKYCORP->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[ILL JUST BE SCARLETT SOW->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND BE FATTENED UP->Breeding 2 Ending]] -[[UNTIL IM TURNED INTO HAMBURGERS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND STEAKS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND PORK CHOPS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND ROASTS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND STEW->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND TOP FUCKING SIRLOIN->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[I BET THEY ARE GOING TO CUT ME INTO SO MANY MEALS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[AND ILL FILL SO MANY STOMACHS->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[THAT IS MY PURPOSE->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[THIS IS MY FATE->Breeding 2 Ending]]-[[TO BE CONSUMED TO BE DIGESTED AS A FARM ANIMAL->Breeding 2 Ending]]-
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[[OH GOD->Butchered]]-[[JUST CUT ME OPEN ALREADY->Butchered]]-[[I CAN FEEL THE KNIFE->Butchered]]-[[ITS PRESSING INTO ME->Butchered]]-[[I WANT TO BE GUTTED ALIVE->Butchered]]-[[I WANT TO FEEL MY INSIDES TORN OUT->Butchered]]-[[OH GOD IT WOULD FEEL SO AMAZING->Butchered]]-[[SO FINAL AND COMPLETE->Butchered]]-[[JUST BEING GUTTED LIKE A FUCKING PIG->Butchered]]-[[AND THEN ROASTED->Butchered]]-[[OR A STEW->Butchered]]-[[OR ANYTHING YOU WANT->Butchered]]-[[PLEASE DONT CUT ME ->On Display]]-[[JUST EAT ME UP->Butchered]]-[[EAT ME RIGHT UP->Butchered]]-[[LET WHOEVER BUYS ME DEVOUR ME->Butchered]]-[[AND CONSUME ME->Butchered]]-[[AND FUCKING DIGEST ME->Butchered]]-[[UNTIL THERES NOTHING LEFT->Butchered]]-[[IM TIRED OF BEING IN CHARGE->Butchered]]-[[TIRED OF ALL THESE DECISIONS->Butchered]]-[[JUST LET ME BE DINNER->Butchered]]-[[I KNOW ILL HAVE ONE LAST GOOD CUM BEFORE I GO->Butchered]]-[[AND THEN ILL BE ON A FUCKING PLATE->Butchered]]-[[ILL BE A SCARLETT ROAST WITH ALL THE FIXINGS->Butchered]]-[[AND THEN ILL BE NOTHING->Butchered]]-[[BUT FIRST DINNER->Butchered]]-[[AND LUNCH->Butchered]]-[[AND SOUP->Butchered]]-[[AND ROASTS->Butchered]]-[[AND PACKAGED->Butchered]]-[[OH GOD SO TIGHTLY PACKAGED->Butchered]]-[[OH GOD->Butchered]]-[[JUST CUT ME OPEN ALREADY->Butchered]]-[[I CAN FEEL THE KNIFE->Butchered]]-[[ITS PRESSING INTO ME->Butchered]]-[[I WANT TO BE GUTTED ALIVE->Butchered]]-[[I WANT TO FEEL MY INSIDES TORN OUT->Butchered]]-[[OH GOD IT WOULD FEEL SO AMAZING->Butchered]]-[[SO FINAL AND COMPLETE->Butchered]]-[[JUST BEING GUTTED LIKE A FUCKING PIG->Butchered]]-[[AND THEN ROASTED->Butchered]]-[[OR A STEW->Butchered]]-[[OR ANYTHING YOU WANT->Butchered]]-[[PLEASE DONT CUT ME ->On Display]]-[[JUST EAT ME UP->Butchered]]-[[EAT ME RIGHT UP->Butchered]]-[[LET WHOEVER BUYS ME DEVOUR ME->Butchered]]-[[AND CONSUME ME->Butchered]]-[[AND FUCKING DIGEST ME->Butchered]]-[[UNTIL THERES NOTHING LEFT->Butchered]]-[[IM TIRED OF BEING IN CHARGE->Butchered]]-[[TIRED OF ALL THESE DECISIONS->Butchered]]-[[JUST LET ME BE DINNER->Butchered]]-[[I KNOW ILL HAVE ONE LAST GOOD CUM BEFORE I GO->Butchered]]-[[AND THEN ILL BE ON A FUCKING PLATE->Butchered]]-[[ILL BE A SCARLETT ROAST WITH ALL THE FIXINGS->Butchered]]-[[AND THEN ILL BE NOTHING->Butchered]]-[[BUT FIRST DINNER->Butchered]]-[[AND LUNCH->Butchered]]-[[AND SOUP->Butchered]]-[[AND ROASTS->Butchered]]-[[AND PACKAGED->Butchered]]-[[OH GOD SO TIGHTLY PACKAGED->Butchered]]-[[OH GOD->Butchered]]-[[JUST CUT ME OPEN ALREADY->Butchered]]-[[I CAN FEEL THE KNIFE->Butchered]]-[[ITS PRESSING INTO ME->Butchered]]-[[I WANT TO BE GUTTED ALIVE->Butchered]]-[[I WANT TO FEEL MY INSIDES TORN OUT->Butchered]]-[[OH GOD IT WOULD FEEL SO AMAZING->Butchered]]-[[SO FINAL AND COMPLETE->Butchered]]-[[JUST BEING GUTTED LIKE A FUCKING PIG->Butchered]]-[[AND THEN ROASTED->Butchered]]-[[OR A STEW->Butchered]]-[[OR ANYTHING YOU WANT->Butchered]]-[[PLEASE DONT CUT ME ->On Display]]-[[JUST EAT ME UP->Butchered]]-[[EAT ME RIGHT UP->Butchered]]-[[LET WHOEVER BUYS ME DEVOUR ME->Butchered]]-[[AND CONSUME ME->Butchered]]-[[AND FUCKING DIGEST ME->Butchered]]-[[UNTIL THERES NOTHING LEFT->Butchered]]-[[IM TIRED OF BEING IN CHARGE->Butchered]]-[[TIRED OF ALL THESE DECISIONS->Butchered]]-[[JUST LET ME BE DINNER->Butchered]]-[[I KNOW ILL HAVE ONE LAST GOOD CUM BEFORE I GO->Butchered]]-[[AND THEN ILL BE ON A FUCKING PLATE->Butchered]]-[[ILL BE A SCARLETT ROAST WITH ALL THE FIXINGS->Butchered]]-[[AND THEN ILL BE NOTHING->Butchered]]-[[BUT FIRST DINNER->Butchered]]-[[AND LUNCH->Butchered]]-[[AND SOUP->Butchered]]-[[AND ROASTS->Butchered]]-[[AND PACKAGED->Butchered]]-[[OH GOD SO TIGHTLY PACKAGED->Butchered]]-
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[[OH GOD->Butchered]]-[[JUST CUT ME OPEN ALREADY->Butchered]]-[[I CAN FEEL THE KNIFE->Butchered]]-[[ITS PRESSING INTO ME->Butchered]]-[[I WANT TO BE GUTTED ALIVE->Butchered]]-[[I WANT TO FEEL MY INSIDES TORN OUT->Butchered]]-[[OH GOD IT WOULD FEEL SO AMAZING->Butchered]]-[[SO FINAL AND COMPLETE->Butchered]]-[[JUST BEING GUTTED LIKE A FUCKING PIG->Butchered]]-[[AND THEN ROASTED->Butchered]]-[[OR A STEW->Butchered]]-[[OR ANYTHING YOU WANT->Butchered]]-[[PLEASE DONT CUT ME ->On Display]]-[[JUST EAT ME UP->Butchered]]-[[EAT ME RIGHT UP->Butchered]]-[[LET WHOEVER BUYS ME DEVOUR ME->Butchered]]-[[AND CONSUME ME->Butchered]]-[[AND FUCKING DIGEST ME->Butchered]]-[[UNTIL THERES NOTHING LEFT->Butchered]]-[[IM TIRED OF BEING IN CHARGE->Butchered]]-[[TIRED OF ALL THESE DECISIONS->Butchered]]-[[JUST LET ME BE DINNER->Butchered]]-[[I KNOW ILL HAVE ONE LAST GOOD CUM BEFORE I GO->Butchered]]-[[AND THEN ILL BE ON A FUCKING PLATE->Butchered]]-[[ILL BE A SCARLETT ROAST WITH ALL THE FIXINGS->Butchered]]-[[AND THEN ILL BE NOTHING->Butchered]]-[[BUT FIRST DINNER->Butchered]]-[[AND LUNCH->Butchered]]-[[AND SOUP->Butchered]]-[[AND ROASTS->Butchered]]-[[AND PACKAGED->Butchered]]-[[OH GOD SO TIGHTLY PACKAGED->Butchered]]-[[OH GOD->Butchered]]-[[JUST CUT ME OPEN ALREADY->Butchered]]-[[I CAN FEEL THE KNIFE->Butchered]]-[[ITS PRESSING INTO ME->Butchered]]-[[I WANT TO BE GUTTED ALIVE->Butchered]]-[[I WANT TO FEEL MY INSIDES TORN OUT->Butchered]]-[[OH GOD IT WOULD FEEL SO AMAZING->Butchered]]-[[SO FINAL AND COMPLETE->Butchered]]-[[JUST BEING GUTTED LIKE A FUCKING PIG->Butchered]]-[[AND THEN ROASTED->Butchered]]-[[OR A STEW->Butchered]]-[[OR ANYTHING YOU WANT->Butchered]]-[[PLEASE DONT CUT ME ->On Display]]-[[JUST EAT ME UP->Butchered]]-[[EAT ME RIGHT UP->Butchered]]-[[LET WHOEVER BUYS ME DEVOUR ME->Butchered]]-[[AND CONSUME ME->Butchered]]-[[AND FUCKING DIGEST ME->Butchered]]-[[UNTIL THERES NOTHING LEFT->Butchered]]-[[IM TIRED OF BEING IN CHARGE->Butchered]]-[[TIRED OF ALL THESE DECISIONS->Butchered]]-[[JUST LET ME BE DINNER->Butchered]]-[[I KNOW ILL HAVE ONE LAST GOOD CUM BEFORE I GO->Butchered]]-[[AND THEN ILL BE ON A FUCKING PLATE->Butchered]]-[[ILL BE A SCARLETT ROAST WITH ALL THE FIXINGS->Butchered]]-[[AND THEN ILL BE NOTHING->Butchered]]-[[BUT FIRST DINNER->Butchered]]-[[AND LUNCH->Butchered]]-[[AND SOUP->Butchered]]-[[AND ROASTS->Butchered]]-[[AND PACKAGED->Butchered]]-[[OH GOD SO TIGHTLY PACKAGED->Butchered]]-[[OH GOD->Butchered]]-[[JUST CUT ME OPEN ALREADY->Butchered]]-[[I CAN FEEL THE KNIFE->Butchered]]-[[ITS PRESSING INTO ME->Butchered]]-[[I WANT TO BE GUTTED ALIVE->Butchered]]-[[I WANT TO FEEL MY INSIDES TORN OUT->Butchered]]-[[OH GOD IT WOULD FEEL SO AMAZING->Butchered]]-[[SO FINAL AND COMPLETE->Butchered]]-[[JUST BEING GUTTED LIKE A FUCKING PIG->Butchered]]-[[AND THEN ROASTED->Butchered]]-[[OR A STEW->Butchered]]-[[OR ANYTHING YOU WANT->Butchered]]-[[PLEASE DONT CUT ME ->On Display]]-[[JUST EAT ME UP->Butchered]]-[[EAT ME RIGHT UP->Butchered]]-[[LET WHOEVER BUYS ME DEVOUR ME->Butchered]]-[[AND CONSUME ME->Butchered]]-[[AND FUCKING DIGEST ME->Butchered]]-[[UNTIL THERES NOTHING LEFT->Butchered]]-[[IM TIRED OF BEING IN CHARGE->Butchered]]-[[TIRED OF ALL THESE DECISIONS->Butchered]]-[[JUST LET ME BE DINNER->Butchered]]-[[I KNOW ILL HAVE ONE LAST GOOD CUM BEFORE I GO->Butchered]]-[[AND THEN ILL BE ON A FUCKING PLATE->Butchered]]-[[ILL BE A SCARLETT ROAST WITH ALL THE FIXINGS->Butchered]]-[[AND THEN ILL BE NOTHING->Butchered]]-[[BUT FIRST DINNER->Butchered]]-[[AND LUNCH->Butchered]]-[[AND SOUP->Butchered]]-[[AND ROASTS->Butchered]]-[[AND PACKAGED->Butchered]]-[[OH GOD SO TIGHTLY PACKAGED->Butchered]]-
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}, 30_000);You reach into your pocket and slide the Meryl's store gift card into his hand.
"What about this, actually? Maybe you could..."
As his palm meets yours, and he pulls the gift card out, he spins you around and nearly pulls your shoulder out of its socket as he pins your wrist behind your back. You instinctively push your hips back into him and lower your center of gravity to prepare for a judo throw, but then you remember that your ultimate goal is to save Zoe.
So, instead, you allow him to zip-tie your wrists behind your back.
“Yeah, there's no way I'm turning down a gift card AND you as a roaster...” he says, his breath hot on your neck as he growls in your ear, “besides, that sales pitch of yours really got me going. You’d make FINE eating, and I’m thinking of keeping you for myself…”
You heart flutters as you feel his cock hardening in his pants.
“…but I’ve already got my Dolcett Day roast for this week at home, soaking in brine for the next three days. Pity I don’t have room for two.”
He marches you to the back as you try to look over your shoulder, ensuring that Zoe is being taken out from the counter, and not by a customer.
The sight beyond the meat counter is one to behold. There are half carved up women all around you, hanging on hooks, bleeding out, in various stages of processing. You have a flashback to five years ago, when the woman volunteered right in front of you, and the way she orgasmed just as she was bled out.
You’re much closer to understanding her now than you were five years ago—how at peace she was then, the look of finality in her eyes. You feel your eyes begin to cross and realize you’re losing yourself, so you desperately try and pull yourself back.
You look down and realize your clothes are being cut off, and the bind at your wrists are hung up on a hook. A sprayer hose soaks you un-ceremonially, and your left naked, wet, and hanging…like a piece of meat.
You can’t see through your soaked hair but feel footsteps approach and a hand press on the small of your low back. You feel a sudden prick at the center of your breastbone and see that a man has a large knife pointed right into you.
“Gutting this one?” he says over his shoulder.
You gasp to speak and realize the inhale causes your chest to press into the blade and cut you, a small trickle of blood oozing out.
“No, no, no, full roaster, just dry her and package her up.”
“You sure? She’s looking grade C to me. I think she’s best suited for roasts and stew meat. I can take care of her quick.”
You feel the blade pressing into you and you realize this may have been one big mistake. You close your eyes tight and bite down on your lip, expecting to be sliced open any second. You also feel a tremendous pressure in your cunt, and realize you’re probably going to cum to this, too, just like the girl did five years ago.
[[Try to orgasm now before he cuts into you. You might as well cum if you’re going to go, and it’s the only chance of getting your senses back. ->Butcher Mindbreak]]
[[Remind him that full roaster means with your organs still packed inside. You're losing it, but you're also the only person keeping innocent women from being sentt to Dolcett ->Butcher Mindbreak 8]]Your mind melts as you swing your body backward. Just as the man presses his hand against your lower back to stabilize you and pull you back, you swing forward and impale yourself on his knife, the blade cutting straight into your sternum, right where your gutting was planned to begin.
You feel your thighs squeeze and rub together, aching for release.
“Go on. Fucking gut me already. Please," you whisper as you look into his eyes.
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he says, taking his hand off your low back and slipping two fingers into your soaked cunt, the rest of his palm gripping your thigh.
“This is what you need, isn’t it bitch? Don’t worry, I’m a pro at this sort of thing.”
He slowly drags the knife through your chest, belly, and naval while rubbing his two fingers inwards inside you, teasing you while pressing his thumb on your clit. You feel your eyes cross just as a flash comes over your face and you scream out as an orgasm rocks what’s left of your body. He doesn’t stop milking orgasm after orgasm out of your body as he drops the knife and begins pulling your guts out, letting them fall carelessly to the floor.
“God damn it, I said full roaster! What are you doing?”
“She begged for it, you should’ve seen this little muffin dance on my knife. Look how much of her cum I have on my hand.” He says, showing his soaked hand to his boss.
“Hmph. Whatever. I’m keeping the young one in the case, then. No point in letting her go now.”
You don’t even care about Zoe anymore, she’s not your responsibility. Your responsibility is meat, you tell yourself, as you squeeze out one last orgasm by rubbing your legs together, making a gurgling sound as your head cranes back and has one last quiver before you slump over.
You walked into the back a proud woman. Now, you're just meat on the hook.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epliogue:
A stack of freshly packaged, freshly sliced meat is pushed out from behind the counter and rolled on a cart to the display area. The assistant begins placing the various packages on display, with your meat sliced as "stew meat" and labeled Grade C. Each package is finished with a picture of your face, your eyes crossed and your tongue sticking out—a stupid, broken expression preserved as your final impression in this world.
Just as your packages finish being sorted, another cart rolls past with Zoe inside, screaming into her apple as she's taken to checkout.
*******
[[CHECKPOINT: Grocery Store ->Grocery]]You press down on the red button, and watch the spit.
Nothing happens.
You press it again, and then a third time, jamming your finger repeatedly like your brain can't understand why red doesn't mean stop.
Zoe closes her eyes and bites her teeth together, her entire body shaking as you hear her insides tear like paper as the spit presses through, tearing into her abdominal cavity and breaking through the point of no return.
"NOOO!" Zoe yelps out, a wailing sound of pain and fear echoing out of her body.
Zoe suddenly goes quiet as the saw underneath her activates, slicing her from neck to naval, her organs falling out on the tray with a plop.
"I'm dead..." Zoe says quietly, in defeat.
"I'm so sorry, Zoe, I wish I could've, I tried-"
You feel a hand on your shoulder, and then another. You turn and lower your center of gravity to deliver a blow to whoever the person's stomach is, but you're lifted up and suplexed onto a metal prep table. You're quickly held down by 3-4 people, making any escape impossible.
"I don't recognize this one..." Zoe's sous chef says. "Who is she?"
"It doesn't matter." The head chef says, walking in front of you, the meat cleaver still in his hand. "She doesn't matter, just like none of the women here matter. They are just meat to be served on a Man's table.
GAME OVER. YOU AND ZOE WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
The head chef grabs you by the hair and forces your head towards Zoe.
"Watch."
You are held in place as you are forced to watch Zoe, now gutted, squirm as the spit passes through her - the fear being the most torturous part of bearing witness to her death.
Or so you think - as when she's carried off to roast over open flame, you can tell she's still alive. She will feel and smell herself cooking - just like the Baron said.
The head chef looks you over and yells over his shoulder.
“What do we have on the tickets?”
“Six steak orders, four chops, two breasts, rack of ribs. I was about to go to the walk-in.”
“No need,” he snarls. “We're going to harvest it FRESH.”
You feel your right arm break free from his grip, and you go to raise it, but you hear what sounds like a gunshot that freezes you in place. A chill floods your body as shock overwhelms you, and as you feel your left arm starting to break free, the same sound follows.
BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.
You look to your right and gasp in horror as you see your leg, cut from your body, placed next to you as it's chopped slice by slice into steaks. The blows by the cleaver are so violent that it severs the bone, leaving a portion of it in the middle of the cut. You watch as your leg steaks are quickly rinsed off in the sink and slapped on the grill. They sear loudly as peppercorn is sprinkled on top and a sprinkle of salt is thrown on top.
The sous chef looks at the tickets again.
"Two mid-rare. One medium. One well done...fucking rube."
You can't take your eyes off of the grill, lined up with your meat, as cut after cut is slapped on to cook. You black out and die without even evaluating the state of your own body, or what will happen to you next, as the shock of being portioned into tonight's cuts right in front of your eyes is enough to devastate you out of existence.
***************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs PM, Inside the Banquet Hall ->CClean]]Butter under the skin can be an ending for the kitchenYou gasp back into reality just as you nearly wandered directly into the center of the kitchen, where you would've likely help them cook yourself alive in your shattered state of mind.
Just as you're able to collect your thoughts, you year a yelling as the head chef of this restaurant, one of only two men working the back of the house, is towering over a woman dressed in a French maid outfit.
"How many times do I have to tell you how to temp a steak? You can tell by fucking touch."
"Yes chef..."
"Do you need me to sear you on the fucking grill? I bet your flesh would understand better than your brain does."
"No chef...I can..."
He grabs the maid by the hair and drags her to a hot grill station. He effortlessly scoops her up, as he stands over six foot tall and over two hundred fifty pounds, and carries her like a bride being carried over the threshold of marriage. But he is instead carrying her over the threshold from woman to meat, as he pulls up her dress and presses her ass first on the grill.
As she screams out in pain, no one in the kitchen stops working. The only one mesmerized is you, as you see the flood of emotions in her eyes, and the lack of any in his.
"What temperature are you?"
"...rare."
"Wrong, you're blue rare. Do we have an order for blue rare?"
"Table six, chef." the male sous chef working the spit station yells out.
"Good, let's get her served."
"...No...please...give me another ch-"
He rips off her dress and throws her down on the grill, her yelping out as he grabs a meat cleaver and in one stroke, chops her head clean off. You watch as her head rolls directly past you, her still blinking as she eyes widen, seeing through your disguise just as she dies. You duck around the corner and hide near the trash as her dress, and head, is dumped inside by two maids who rush back to work.
You decide now is the time for a costume change, as every woman in this kitchen is wearing the same outfit. You quickly grab the woman's outfit out of the trash, the hem of the dress wet with blood, and slip the garments on. You do your best to put on the same expression you saw all the other maids wear - an emotionless, dead stare as you turn the corner and enter the kitchen.
You quickly check the trash cans and see several severed heads, but don't see Zoe. You scan the grill stations where women have been butchered into steaks and chops, any of which could be her. You skim the line of women who are hung up for slaughter, and hear a splash as you watch a woman's neck slit, her life being flushed down a drain.
Another life lost, forgotten. There's a soullessness to this place.
You just have to remember which station to check first. You don't have a second to spare - what did Baron Louis Bouvier specifically say he was going to do to Zoe?
[[You peer at the spit area, the women rotating on the spits have their hair shaved clean off. Check the spits for Zoe. ->Found Zoe]]
[[You study the ovens and see women quivering, cooking alive. Check the ovens for Zoe. ->TableSideW]]https://www.reddit.com/r/CNCdarkdreams/comments/1tiveo4/you_shouldnt_take_rides_from_strangers_its_time/You watch Puma draw her blade back, and anticipate that she aims to slit your belly open. You slide your hips back just as he releases your arm, but you’re caught entirely off guard as instead elbows you in the jaw. Your head flies back, and before it rocks forward, you feel a stinging at your neck as she cuts your throat.
Your blood splashes out as you fall limp to the forest floor.
"All those years of training, and you didn't land a single blow. Pity. I expected more of you.”
You quietly bleed out in the Sleeping Willow forest, your last seconds crawling in the dirt as you gasp for air. The last thing you feel is Puma placing a knee in your back as she rubs her hand down your back, likely planning out her first of many meals.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
"You have to know this was wrong."
Zoe says from her upside-down position, still hanging by her ankles as she watches Puma stir a gallon drum, filled with boiling oil. Puma does not respond immediately, instead continuing to stir with the large wooden spoon as she rotates portions of your rib cage, neck, and hips as they fry in the hot liquid.
"It is not important that you know, Zoe Sanders, what is right and wrong. It is also not important that I know."
Puma uses the wooden spoon to pull out a portion of your ribs, allowing it to cool before she uses her fingers to pull some of your flesh off the bone, giving it a taste.
"Then why even do this? Isn't the entire point to prove that you were better than Scarlett?"
"The point was to prove it, yes, but not to me. I had to prove it to the forest."
Puma dips your rib cage back into the liquid, sitting the spoon down to observe as she waits for her carnitas to be perfect before she pulls you like pork onto her plate.
"And what does the forest say, Puma? You say that you could hear its song, but I sure don't hear anything."
"That's because you don't know how to listen. Observe."
Puma stands and raises her arms, looking around for a response.
But the woods are silent. Not a single animal can be heard making a sound. There is no wind, not even a simple breeze.
There is only nothingness: a black sky with no stars. The forest is empty. The magic and the spirits that once dwelled within it have left.
What remains is the darkness of obsession—and the consequences of forcing an outcome that serves only to destroy everything one holds sacred.
*********************
[[Checkpoint: Friday PM, Sleeping Willow Forest ->Puma Battle Intro]]"I'd like to order the Bring-A-Friend special!" you blurt out.
The waiter looks at you curiously, and you glance over at the unnamed girl to your left.
"You're my friend, right?" you say, forcing your warmest smile.
"Um, sure? Why not?" she says with a shrug.
"Great. Um..." You look down at the menu and quickly scan the requirements for the order. "Live roast... medium-well... post-sear stuffing... with a citrus glaze."
You feel a dampness between your legs as your face flushes, as the realization hits you that you ordered her just as you'd prefer to be cooked.
"Very well. If this is all, I'll be taking your friend to the back."
"To the back? For what?" the unnamed girl says.
"Not yet," you say. "I... I'll order her a drink first. Please bring her what the table is having."
"Made the special way for visitors, ma'am?"
You lower your eyes at being called ma'am.
"The NORMAL way, thank you."
"Very well, but we WILL have to process your friend momentarily. So drink quickly, please," the waiter says as he rushes off.
"Thanks for the drink. I knew you'd keep your promise to order one for me!"
"Yes, and I still haven't caught your—"
You hear a banging on the table.
"How DARE you steal my dinner order. You... you..." Lindsay growls, clearly fuming.
“Oh, relax,” Alexandra says, climbing off her boyfriend’s lap to slide a dumpling onto her plate. “We are still eating her, so what does it matter who ordered her?”
“Yeah...” Rowan says as he aggressively jabs his fork into a meatball. “...Besides, we are here to celebrate. Remember?”
Luna’s hand shakes as she reaches for the plate of steak tips, but it’s pulled away by Lindsay, who places it in front of her. She picks up a piece with her hand and raises it to her sightline.
“You’re right. THIS was a long time coming,” Lindsay says as she slides the seared flesh into her mouth, chewing loudly and rolling her eyes back for effect. “Gosh, I’ve been waiting for that moment for SO long.”
“She’s SO good,” Rowan agrees, chewing through a meatball, some red sauce dripping down his lip as he serves a bite to Alexandra.
“I’m so sorry...” Luna says as she raises a dumpling to her mouth and bites through it, the casing popping in her mouth and the meat rolling on her tongue. “...I tried to warn you. I really did.”
You watch the unnamed girl reach out for a meatball, and you reflexively slap her on the wrist.
“OW! What was that for?!”
“I’m trying to save you.”
“Save me from what, exactly?”
Before you can answer, the commotion at the table suddenly goes quiet. Your eyes trace theirs, and you see a cart being wheeled over—a large platter covered with a metal dome. The table tray, large enough to hold...
You feel yourself fidget in your seat as you realize what you're about to be presented with. Your breath gets shallow, and you feel your mind wander back to your dreams, your fantasies, your urgings.
The wheels lock as the platter is now table-side. You grab the girl by the arm and gesture for her to go. She shakes her head no.
"I want to see what it is," the girl says.
"...who it was," you say under your breath.
"Ladies and gentlemen, may we present the guest of honor this evening, and your very special friend..."
The platter is lifted, and the steam obscures what is underneath. The girl next to you leans in with excitement. The other diners grin, with Lindsay clearing her dining area for a plate.
"...may we present oven-roasted Carlee."
The steam clears to show Carlee's oven-roasted torso, cooked golden brown, with the limbs and head removed. Through her crispy, perfectly seared skin, her own juices run out and drip down onto a bed of roasted potatoes and vegetables that were cooked alongside her. You realize that the rest of her was likely used in the appetizers that were served moments before, with whatever remained donated to the restaurant in exchange for the meal.
You slam your eyes shut as desire begins to take over your mind. Carlee came into this restaurant, just like you did. She... sat... in the chair you now sit in. She even had a slice of bread and a taste of wine. She probably didn't even expect, when she left her chair, to be...
*Oven-roasted Carlee...*
As you stare vacantly, your brain continues to repeat her name.
*Carlee...*
Your brain starts to wander as you realize her name sounds just like...
*Scar-lee...*
*Oven-roasted Scar-lee.*
*Oven-roasted Scarlett.*
You look over, and the woman you believe is Zoe is in shock.
But you're in a worse condition altogether, losing yourself in the lust of living your biggest fantasy. You look back at the platter, and you don't see Carlee.
You see your future staring back.
[[Stumble to your feet, grab the girl, and drag her out of the restaurant by any means necessary. It's now or never. ->Restaurant Mindbreak]]
[[Try to force the girl's name out of your lips. But, you're no longer sure which set of lips are speaking for you, as all you can think about is you'd make a fine roast. ->Restaurant Mindbreak 7]]You decide to try going right, moving swiftly while crouching down, appreciative that the worn brown color of your rags matches the sandy color of the dirt. You remain alert to see if you've been spotted, but also recognize that the area you've entered is so barren, so void of anywhere to hide, that if you are pursued, there's nowhere to escape.
Just as you think you see a fork in the road ahead, the supply truck turns around the blind corner and heads directly toward you. You freeze in a panic response, and the truck horn blares loudly, alerting anyone nearby to your presence. As you turn to run back, you feel the headlights flashing on you.
As you make it back to the shady tree and try to slide into the tall grass, the truck stops just behind you, stopping so quickly that the brakes squeal in your ears. You stand and ready yourself to defend yourself, but you see that both the driver and passenger of the truck already have rifles pointed at you. A second truck is headed down the other side of the road, clearly aware of your presence.
You raise your hands in surrender and lower your head. You'll have to find some other way out of this once they've taken you prisoner.
No, not prisoner. Worse.
Converted into a farm animal.
[[Advance to: Livestock HQ, Thursday Morning->Livestock]]You decide to go right this time, continuing to move forward just as you have before. The only distinct visuals on your run are the sows, who still look very much like women, with various lengths of hair and a calm, docile, pleasant look on their faces. They don't seem to have a hint of stress about them—the only pain they seem to have ever experienced is from the sun, leaving their skin leathery and hard.
You pause for a second as you notice one guard walk up behind a sow, who quickly lowers her head down and sticks her ass out to him. He slaps her on the ass and drops his pants, and you find yourself mesmerized by a moment as she's pumped from behind - some sort of break from work for whoever is fucking her. Does she care who he is? Is she significent to him in any way?
Just as he builds up a good rhythm, he turns his head and you lock eyes with each other. He doesn't stop fucking her, or even seem shocked to see you, but instead, he smiles and waves at you. You decide it's time to start running, and you rush towards the third fork, seeing out of the corner of your eye he's pulled a walkie talkie off his shirt pocket and is speaking into it.
You're met at the third fork with guards approaching from both sides. You turn around and see you're being pursued in that direction as well.
You raise your hands up in surrender and lower your head. You'll have to find some other way out of this once they've taken you prisoner.
No, not prisoner. Worse.
Converted into a farm animal.
[[Advance to: Livestock HQ, Thursday Morning->Livestock]]You continue on, this time taking the path to the left. As you sneak along the fence line, you can see trees far in the distance, and you feel a sense of hope as you realize you're getting close to getting out of here in one piece, instead of several. Your feet pick up the pace, and you move quicker, rushing toward what you hope will be the fourth and final fork in the road between this existence as Scarlett Sky and another as Scarlett Sow.
You're breathing heavily now and are not as aware of your surroundings as you approach a blind turn in the road going right. As you take that blind turn, you notice that there isn't a fork, but only one option at this juncture, and you worry you may have gone the wrong way. Just as you wrap around the bend, you notice that this route is a dead end, leading to a stall where several sows are eating, shoulder to shoulder, from a trough.
You turn to go back, but you see the supply truck has crept up behind you. The passenger is already hanging out of the window, a rifle aimed directly at your heart.
You raise your hands in surrender and lower your head. You'll have to find some other way out of this once they've taken you prisoner.
No, not prisoner. Worse.
Converted into a farm animal.
[[Advance to: Livestock HQ, Thursday Morning->Livestock]]You keep rushing forward through what appears to be grass, and then the outlines of a private property line come into view in the distance. You can't believe it—defying the odds, you guessed correctly four times and are soon to run out of farmland and onto the meadow that leads to the banquet lodge.
As you rush past the house, the door opens, and a large woman stands in the doorway. She just watches as you run past. She doesn't move, gesture, or make a face.
As you reach the first patch of grass after what has felt like an hour, you run right into a fence, the electricity shocking you and throwing you backward. You realize you haven't reached the end of the property line, but the end of the farm itself, where the overseer must live. As you turn around to escape, you see that half a dozen men have surrounded you, their rifles pointed at you.
You raise your hands in surrender and lower your head. You'll have to find some other way out of this once they've taken you prisoner.
No, not prisoner. Worse.
Converted into a farm animal.
[[Advance to: Livestock HQ, Thursday Morning->Livestock]]"Jenna, I'm going to prove to you that there is more to life than being Char's plaything."
"Oh, are you now?" Charlene says, her curiousity piqued. "And how do you propose to do that, my little kebob?"
"I'm going to prove to Jenna that you can be resisted. Go ahead. I'll give you thirty seconds with my body. If you can't break me, I take Jenna with me. Deal?"
Charlene giggles. She looks over at Jenna, who grins back at her.
"Jenna, darling. Go preheat the oven."
"Gladly, Mistress." Jenna says as she rushes off.
"Now..."
Charlene moseys in your direction.
"...when does our little thirty second timer start, darling?"
"Now. I'm ready."
Charlene steps into your personal bubble, but does not place a hand on you yet. You can feel your chest heaving up and down, your body trembling, but you do what you can to stay as still and strong as you can.
"Twenty five...twenty four..." Charlene says, as a hand glides up your thigh.
"Ugh..." you groan out.
She slithers her hand up, in the pattern of a snake, until she presses it firmly against your vagina. She doesn't penetrate you, yet, but just grips you, the pressure intense, nearly overwhelming you.
"You know you want me to cave you off the bone..."
You feel two of her fingers retracting, lining up with your entrance, as your body and breath goes still, bracing for the moment of penetration.
"...twelve...eleven...if you REALLY want to prove to Jenna that I can be resisted, be honest daring..."
"I have been honest...I am here because I want-"
Charlene's two fingers spring forward and forcefully penetrate inside of you, gripping you from the inside. You feel all of the air knocked out of your lungs as you nearly topple over, with only Charlene's body holding you up.
"Five...four...three...I can stop, if you want, and you can go. Tell me to stop and I'll stop."
An orgasm builds throughout your entire body, something more powerful than anything you've ever experienced.
"Or tell me the TRUTH. Tell me you want to roast in my oven, alive, and I'll rip every last bit of doubt you've ever had out of your flesh."
"I want...I want..."
"Two...and...one..."
You scream out as loudly as you have in your entire life as an erupting orgasm rewires every part of your body. Your flesh floods with levels of endorphins you didn't think possible, soaking you with an all encompassing pleasure that redefines the meaning of the word irrestible. As you look over at Charlene, she sees that your vision is no longer yours, but hers.
"So. Do you want to go home, or do you want to go HOME."
Jenna walks back over, holding a stainless steel roasting pan in her arms.
"I want to roast in your oven, Char. Please. I’m ready. I’m finally ready,” you say as drool leaks from your mouth.
Charlene holds your wrist lightly and guides you to the kitchen, with Jenna proudly holding your roasting pan in tow.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Charlene grins from ear to ear, the biggest smile that you would have ever seen, if you were still around, as she wheels your roasted body to the table.
“Finally. FINALLY,” she says to herself.
Your skin at this point is a perfect golden brown, crispy and eager to be peeled away from your flesh. Your torso has long since been gutted and stuffed, with premium homemade sourdough leaking out from your belly and a lifeless stare on your face. Charlene gestures to Jenna as she assists in loading you into the center of the table; you now served on a silver platter like you’ve masturbated to hundreds of times.
Charlene takes a deep breath and lowers her head like she's going to give a prayer. But the only supernatural force she believes in is her right hand. And it has finally broken you and brought you to the Promised Land - her dining room table.
She picks up her knife and her carving fork and savors the moment as the prongs make their first penetration into the flesh just on your shoulder. She slowly carves, watching the steam rise as the perfectly cooked medium rare meat underneath slides off and onto a waiting plate. She pauses for a moment just to savor the experience - she's cooked you, served you, and now, has finally carved you as the prized holiday bird she’d always seen you as.
She wipes a tear from her eye as her fork now enters just under your kneecap, slicing off a piece of your toned, athletic thigh. She taps a finger on her chin as she sticks her fork your left breast and slices it off entirely, sliding in onto her plate.
And then, she eyes the tenderest part of your body - your frequently massaged, tender, aching cunt. She's careful as she places the fork just above your mound, and gracefully cuts through your flesh to remove a triangle steak that will serve as the main course on her plate.
As she sits at the head of her table, she’s passed a dish of mashed potatoes, vegetables, and some of your drippings - which she's thickened up into a gravy. She finishes plating you and takes another five minutes just to soak in what she's accomplished, letting your juices soak into your side dishes.
She then takes one last look into your vacant, submitted, satisfied eyes before picking up her fork and knife.
This will be a meal Charlene will savor forever.
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Saturday AM ->Jenna test]]Just as you go to turn your back on Jenna, you can't shake the feeling that something isn't right.
Nothing has sense this entire week. Who sent Zoe to Dolcett? How is it that at every step of your journey, the people in power here have known exactly who you are?
You remember Puma’s cryptic last warning to you just as you turn around and see Jenna rushing toward you with a pocket knife drawn. You're able to parry her advance and throw her over your shoulder just before her knife pierces into your chest. You swat the blade from her hand, bar her arm, and hold her to the hotel carpet by her neck.
“Jenna, how could you? You just tried to kill me?! Why?”
“I've tried to tell you. I've tried to tell you for years...”
“Tried to tell me what?”
“Many things. But, for starters, that I don't work for you, Scarlett. I never have.”
“Then...”
You release Jenna from your grip as you step back and sit on the small hotel room table, processing your situation. Jenna stands up and dusts off her blazer and dress skirt.
“You're not hurt?” you ask reflexively.
“Oh, I prefer rougher than that, actually,” Jenna quips.
“…I had no idea. About you, about any of this. I’m-”
“Everything will be explained when we arrive at your final destination, Scarlett.” Jenna interrupts.”As I said earlier, our ride is on standby. SHE is expecting you.”
You gasp as a shiver runs down your entire body, a cold sweat forming on your skin, warmed only by the heat radiating from deep within you.
From a place you don't talk about. A place of dreams. Of yearning. Of the purest, most unrelenting desire.
Your internal oven is preheating, and you know that an external one is just beyond..
*********************************
As you walk out of the elevator, Jenna is just ahead of you. Zoe, still shaved bald but back in a flowing sundress, is waiting.
"Zoe, I have to..."
"Ah, Miss Sanders," Jenna says. "Here you are. One First Class ticket, direct to North Carolina, departing in two hours. I also have you pre-screened, so you'll have no trouble at the airport."
"Whoa, First Class? Scarlett, you shouldn't have!"
"...I didn't."
"What do you mean?"
"My Mistress insisted on no distractions." Jenna says to you. "She gives her word that no harm will befall her. This is between you and her."
You nod.
"Zoe, I need you to go home without me. I have one final lose end to tie up."
"No, I'm totally coming with you. You said you'd NEVER leave without me, remember?"
You open your mouth to answer but you see Jenna walking away, towards a waiting limo. You feel a haze in your mind, knowing what is beyond. It's calling to you, a ringing message that has vibrated through your body, and your pussy, for half a decade. You can't walk away from it, not now.
"I'm sorry..." you say to Zoe as you mindlessly follow Jenna. You feel a hand on your shoulder, and look over in a daze as you can see Zoe talking to you, but you can't hear the words, your arousal too deep. You pull away and her hands continue to pull at your waist, your arm, your neck, and you rip yourself away, feeling suddenly lighter as you race across the lobby and climb into the limo.
You see Zoe in the rearview mirror, standing on the street, watching as the limo pulls away.
***********************************************
The ride is quiet, with Jenna simply staring out the window. You try to engage with her a couple of times, but she pretends she doesn't hear you, her jaw resting on her palm. You decide it's best to center yourself, meditate, and be as mentally prepared as you can as you step into HER home.
The minute you step into the grand entranceway, all of your efforts are in vain. You feel your panties get heavy, your cunt practically leaking as you standing in the very spot you've fantasized about for so long. Your eyes ache to wander to your left, trying to sneak a peek into the kitchen you've dreamt about for so many nights, your perfect fantasy now just a few feet from reality.
You feel like you've woken up from another one of HER dreams when you hear it.
Click. Click. Click.
The sound of her heels pierces through you as she walks down the marble spiral staircase. As she steps onto the same floor that you now stand, the first thing you see is her white teeth, glowing beyond her red lips.
As she approaches, her likeness comes into focus, like waking from a dream when everything around you sharpens into an undeniable reality.
"Darling. It's been FAR too long."
She opens her arms warmly and steps in for a hug.
[[Hug her back. It's better to not alarm her, and then get to work sorting through what brought you here. ->Scarlett Roast]]
[[Hold her at arm's length. It’s confrontational, but you can’t let your guard down. ->Charlene Home AB]]As she steps forward to hug you, you press one arm out, holding her by her shoulder. You place your other hand over your now soaking cunt, just to be sure.
"Now, now, my little dumpling, is that any way to treat a friend?" she says.
"You're not my friend..."
You take a big inhale to gather yourself, as you feel your brain spiraling directly into her oven.
"...Charlene. You've been trying to eat me since the day we met."
"And THAT'S because I care about you, darling. You could say that I am your longest relationship you've ever had. You push me away time and again, but I'm always there for you, the REAL you. I stick around."
"That's the definition of an abusive relationship, Charlene."
"If anyone's the abuser... denying yourself the way you do, denying ME the pleasure of having your flesh, well, my little pot roast, it's YOU."
Charlene's pet names work on you just as they've done for years, but especially here, in such a vulnerable place. You're still in Dolcett. You're in HER home. You struggle not to visualize yourself roasting away in a cocotte, reduced to being fork-tender.
"I'm...not going for this," you force out.
"Oh? Then why are you here?"
Charlene begins to walk around you, like she's appraising you, nodding along. You make sure to keep her at a safe distance, but the way her eyes are scanning you, how she nods, the way she presses a finger to her lips—it continues to erode your sense of self.
Or, perhaps, internalize your true sense of purpose.
"...I'm here for confirmation. Char-"
You stammer, but don't stop your words as you see her face light up.
"...Charlene. You set this whole thing up, didn't you? You were responsible for Zoe being sent to Dolcett, which nearly had her killed five times over. You did it to lure me here—hoping that something would happen to me—one way or the other."
"Oh, I didn't plan for all of THIS to happen. I only planned to get you here. Sure, I would've been heartbroken if someone else got the pleasure of tasting your flesh. Do you know what that would've done to me?"
You don't answer.
"But even then, as a consolation prize, I guess Jenna would still have taken over, and I would've had control of the imports of this world back. As for the rest, well, I certainly didn't plan for a country wide revolution or a changing of the players, but I'm ADAPTABLE, darling. That's why I've stayed alive so long. I'm willing to change and adjust my strategy as the game changes. And let me tell you, thanks to my lovely pet, everything is lined up to be even BETTER than it was before."
"It was my pleasure to serve, Mistress," Jenna says.
"Jenna, I just can't understand.” You say, turning to your former best friend. “Serving Charlene, knowing what she would do to innocent women? How could you?"
"How could YOU not help me, Scarlett?" Jenna snaps back. "For years, you could've told me you had these urges too. But, you kept it from me, brushed me off when I tried to talk to you, leaving me to ache thinking about the night you sent Char to rescue me, the night she slipped two fingers deep inside me..."
"So deep inside of her, my little drumstick." Charlene adds as she slides her hand up Jenna's skirt, her fingers dancing just outside of her cunt. "Your best friend's pussy is divine, Scarlett. You should try it sometime."
"You should try letting her go. She'd think more like herself if you'd just-"
"I haven't been ME since I started working for you, Scarlett. The day you started SkyCorp, I was already submitted to Charlene enjoying the benefits of her guidance."
Jenna's voice softens as Charlene slips her fingers inside of her. Jenna freezes in place, before her body slowly begins to quake. Charlene looks over at you, smiles, and pulls Jenna's head back by the roots of her hair, like she's commanding a puppet to speak.
"It's time for you to do the same.” Jenna says on command. “Give yourself to Charlene. You'll know what I know now - submission to her will bring you the greatest pleasure you will ever have in your entire life."
[[The look of pleasure in Jenna's eyes is intoxicating. Ask to experience it just once, to get it out of your system, and then, you will know what is needed to save Jenna. ->Charlene Ending F]]
[[Continue to deny yourself even a second of sexual gratification, understanding the yearning may press you over the edge completely. ->Charlene Home B]]"No...I won't risk it. I won't let you even have a chance at me," you stammer out defiantly.
"To say there is risk implies a level of desire, darling.” Charlene teases. “Even your own words betray you."
You try and gather yourself so you don't misspeak again.
"Jenna, darling. Go preheat the oven."
"Gladly, Mistress." Jenna says as she rushes off.
The words "preheat the oven" - YOUR oven - echo in your mind.
"Now..."
Charlene moseys in your direction.
"...come along, darling."
"Where?"
"To my kitchen, of course, my sturdy little turkey. I'd like to show you something very special."
You don't move.
"What's the problem, darling? You came here of your own free will, didn't you? You have ALL the training to stop me at any point you'd like. You could also LEAVE any time you desire."
You look and notice the door behind you is still open, the street still visible.
"You're...right?" you admit.
"Yes, of course I am. Now, don't be rude, and come look at YOUR roasting pan. It would be an insult to both of us, especially after the preparations I put in for today, for you to miss it."
Charlene doesn't look back as she walks into the kitchen, leaving you alone in the foyer. You take a deep breath as you look around for potential traps, but you notice your feet are already moving.
You're following her.
You just have to know.
As you enter the immaculately clean, stainless-steel kitchen, you see a VERY you-sized roasting pan on the island, sparkling under the fluorescent light. Charlene stands at the other end of the island, casually grabbing an apron off one of the drawer handles and tying it tightly around her waist.
She looks JUST like she has appeared in all your dreams.
"I had this specially made just for you. That's how much I CARE about you. How much I value you. Not as the head of SkyCorp, or the woman who saved the world. No, I didn't do it for her...."
She smiles as she places both hands on the pan.
"...I did this for YOU, the real YOU, who wants only this."
Charlene slowly spins the pan around until the front faces you. You gasp as you look down at the center and see that "Scarlett Sky" is engraved into the steel, a permanent name tag on this very permanent device that would transform you from one existence into another.
"This pan is only EVER going to roast you. It's a specialty item. I had it made to your EXACT height and weight."
"But how could you know—"
"I helped," Jenna exclaims proudly. "What? I DID remind you three times to take your latest physical. You even thanked me when I called to make sure we could have a copy of your records."
"Speaking of the record, darling, the doctor said you are just SUBLIME for your age. Just the right amount of fat around your ribs. Perfect marbling. And those muscles will tenderize nicely in the special marinade I've made."
"This... has to stop..." you mutter out.
“What has to stop, darling? I’m not the one with the urges. I’m not the one who, deep down... wants... only... this.”
“It’s okay, Scarlett,” Jenna says softly. “You can be honest with Char. She’s very sweet. She knows who you are deep down, better than you know yourself.”
“She only wants to have me medium-rare deep down.”
“There you go again, edging yourself,” Charlene teases, placing her elbows on the kitchen island to hold up her smiling face. “You just can’t HELP yourself, can you? You don’t think I can’t see what you’re doing down there?”
You realize your legs have been grinding in place for the last few moments, and you’ve soaked through your pants.
The large industrial oven BEEPS.
"Scarlett's oven is ready, Mistress." Jenna proclaims.
You look over at the oven, panting from the heat inside of you, and see that it's set at 350 degrees. It would be a long, slow cook, you think to yourself. Perfect for you to be able to enjoy yourself, probably get at least one, maybe two soul shattering orga-
You realize that you've blacked out for a few seconds as Charlene is impossibly close to you now, a hand tracing down your oblique. You feel powerless as you can't find the will to raise your hand to stop her she dances her hand in front of your pants and up your belly button, her fingertips teasing the edge of your panty line, ready to slide in and strike.
"Just say the words. Scarlett. You don't have to edge anymore. You can have the type of pleasure you've always dreamed about. Then finally, FINALLY you will be all fucking mine."
[[Let her touch your thigh, but grab her at the wrist. It's riskier, but you may gain some insight on Charlene. ->Charlene Mindbreak 6]]
[[Step backwards. Create space. Hang on to yourself as best as you can. ->Charlene Mindbreak]]hasChar:false
--
"I want to live...I can't give in...women...to protect..."
You slap Charlene's wrist away with your fingers just as you step back.
"I'm sorry," you blurt out. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.” You lament, not sure why you're apologizing to someone who's trying to eat you. "I would, but I'm responsible for so much."
*I would? Am I already broken? Am I already hers?*
"Come over here, Scarlett, I want to show you something."
She walks you over to a countertop where she already has water boiling. You look over at the spread of potatoes, fresh vegetables, and herbs, and notice that they are of the highest grade.
"They're so fresh," you think, and say out loud.
"I spared no expense for our special day. Not a minute. Not a second, not a dollar. I want this to be everything both of us dreamed of."
Charlene picks up a potato and holds it next to your face.
"You're going to be served with the softest, most delicious potatoes that anyone has ever tasted. You're going to be garnished with the most expensive herbs in this country. The bread I'm going to stuff you with, I baked myself, as I wanted to make sure it paired with you just right."
You start to see yourself served as a slice of medium-rare prime rib on a plate, your juices soaking into the potatoes and vegetables, and begin to drool.
"You're going to be the greatest roast beef anyone has ever had, and to be honest, I'm keeping you ALL to myself. Well, Jenna's going to have some of you, and maybe one special guest."
You admit to yourself that you want to submit to Charlene and be roasted just…like…this. But one lingering thing continues to hold you back. It always has.
"I can't let you have me, Charlene. I have women to protect. I have to run SkyCorp."
Charlene laughs.
"Don't you understand, darling? All of that is over. You're free."
You feel a strange feeling rush over you. You somehow KNOW that she is right, even though you can't explain it.
"What do you mean, free?"
"You and your little friend Phoenix and the Ladies for Dolcett have changed this country forever," Charlene says as she loads the potatoes into the boiling pot, her dinner preparations now underway. "The government here is currently in negotiations to bring the demonstrations all over this country to an end and establish... rights... for all women for the first time ever. If anything, I wouldn't be surprised if a woman isn't in charge of Dolcett in the VERY near future."
"...wow. We did it. We've really made a difference," you speak into existence, cherishing the realization of your success.
"Yes, you are quite the world shaker, it turns out..." Charlene says as she takes the bowl of YOUR stuffing out of her fridge and sets it on the counter. "And because women are going to rule this country, women eating will likely come to an end. Do you know what this means?"
"That... I don't need to protect anyone anymore..."
"That's RIGHT, my smart little suckling pig," Charlene says, turning to you and pointing a kitchen knife at your stomach. "There's no more need for SkyCorp because there's no more importing of women. Frankly, there's no more need for my position at Dolcett Co., because I won't be importing any women. Both of us are free to do whatever, or whoever, we want."
Charlene walks over to the island and taps it with her hand, signaling that she wants you to climb up.
"You and I no longer have anything tying us to anything other than our own desires. There is no one left for you to protect. Zoe, your little project, is on her way home to get married. The LFD are above ground, free, and a position of power. And, your former friend Jenna is now my lover and pet.
"Yes, and I'm very happy being Char's submissive, Scarlett. Don't worry about me." Jenna says through glazed eyes.
“The only one left without a purpose is YOU. But deep down, you know what your purpose is. You’ve always known, ever since the moment we first met.”
She turns YOUR roasting pan again so that the engraving of your name faces you once more.
“It’s dinner. Roasted golden brown and served on a platter. And that is exactly what you’re going to be. Go ahead, say something to prove me wrong.”
[[Force a lie, tell her that there’s some reason to go on as a person and not as an oven-roasted turkey dinner. It’s the only way. ->Zoe Pet]]
[[Try to find some truth in this situation. But, she was right about everything she said? ->Charlene Home D]]"You're honestly right about everything... I just need time to think."
"What's there to think about? Your oven is ready. Your potatoes are boiling. Your vegetables are ready to catch your juices."
You feel your eyes glaze over, the acceptance of what feels like destiny becoming hypnotic.
"I'll make you a deal. You can have all the time you need to think while you try out your pan. You DO want to lie in it, don't you? A pan made perfectly for you?"
You exhale loudly as you accept that there is no way you're leaving this kitchen without trying on a pan that was made to your exact dimensions. You also realize that the odds of you getting out of that pan once you're in it are near zero, but the longer you stare at it, the more you feel your feet walking forward.
As you reach the lip of the island, you stare down at the stainless steel. You can see the lust in the reflection of your face - your cheeks a bright red, your eyes glazed over, mouth agape. You look exactly like every woman you've ever seen in your two journeys to Dolcett when they consented to being eaten.
Jenna walks over and offers a hand. Charlene slides a stool over for you to step up. You close your eyes and surrender the will of your body to the void.
Your feet step up onto the stool, and you allow yourself to be laid on your back into the roasting pan. The grooves that fit your neck and arms are exact, just as Charlene had said. Charlene and Jenna work together to press your shins up and slide your thighs into your chest.
With the press of a button, a clasp seals your ankles in place. Charlene grins as her excitement builds. She presses three more buttons, and similar shackles lock over your elbows, knees, and neck.
Once you're clasped into place, Charlene pauses to watch you squirm. You watch as her feet start to hop up and down, and she squeals with delight like a little girl. Her arms rise over her head in a state of pure, jovial excitement.
"I've waited a long time for this, Scarlett Sky. And, finally, tonight...I am going to roast your fucking ass for my supper."
You feel a tinge of doubt come over you, but it's quickly settled by Charlene's hand, as it grabs your soaked, exposed pussy, pressing against it firmly as a wave of pleasure rushes over you. Your brain goes mute, and you shiver in place as an orgasm builds that will rip any other identity other than THIS out of your soul the minute SHE decides to break you.
You're helpless, lying in a roasting plan, and locked tight as Jenna hands Charlene a large kitchen knife. A tear forms at your eye, but it's not a tear of sadness. It is a tear of relief.
"It's okay darling. It's an emotional moment for both of us. We've both waited a long time for this."
Charlene cuts your clothes off and throws them in the trash nearby, stripping you of any other identity other than tonight's entree. She snaps her finger as Jenna brings over your marinade, and she pours it on top of you, using her hands to rub it into your flesh. Your hips raise repeatedly, eager for your cunt to finally be basted from the inside by Charlene's hand, but she simply giggles to herself.
"Not yet, my little turkey. I'm going to make you cum RIGHT before you go into the oven."
Jenna lines the tray underneath with the premium vegetables that Charlene had assorted as your side dish. Charlene cracks pepper over you and decorates you with herbs, held on by small toothpicks, each one piercing you just at the skin. A bed of potatoes is laid around you to complete your preparations.
Charlene walks out of sight, for a moment. You realize you miss her, immediately, and also accept that you won't escape. You're going to roast - and for the first time in your life - you're okay with it. Everything is settled. Deep down, you've won. You've changed the world, saved everyone, and can live your greatest fantasy. What more could possibly be greater than this moment?
Charlene returns, tossing a red apple to herself, lining it up with your jaw. Her other hand presses on the outside of your cunt, the fingers just a tip inside.
"Any last words as Scarlett Sky?"
[[Ask her to pick your fucking bones clean. You're ready. Absolutely ready. ->Scarlett Soup]]
[[Ask if she can gut and stuff you first. You don't want to die before you feel yourself slit open. ->Zoe Arrives]]
[if hasPuma]
[[Item Choice: The earring in your right ear reminds you about how important time is in combat. Ask to be gutted as they will need to empty your pan first, buying you a few extra moments. ->Zoe Arrives]]MINDBREAK
[[OH GOD IM IN CHARLENES KITCHEN ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND SHES RIGHT NEXT TO ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[HER HANDS ARE ON ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[HER HANDS ARE ABOUT TO BE INSIDE ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND IM ABOUT TO BE INSIDE HER ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[DIGESTING ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[FINALLY ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AFTER FIVE YEARS ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[SHES GOING TO EAT ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[SHES GOING TO ROAST ME ALIVE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[LIKE SHES ALWAYS WANTED ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[LIKE IVE ALWAYS WANTED ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[GOD SHES GOING TO COOK ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[FUCKING ALIVE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[ROAST ME IN AN OVEN ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[IN A PAN SHE MADE JUST FOR ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND ILL FEEL MYSELF COOK ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND ILL SMELL MY BODY ROASTING ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[BASTE ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[STUFF ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[GUT ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[ROAST MY FUCKING ASS ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND THEN CARRY ME OUT ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND CARVE ME LIKE A FUCKING TURKEY ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[SOAK MY JUICES IN MASHED POTATOES ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND EAT EVERY PART OF ME CHARLENE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[TAKE ME CHARLENE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[HAVE ME CHARLENE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[DINE ON ME CHARLENE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[JUST NOT YET ->Charlene Home C]]-[[AND ONCE YOURE FULL PORTION ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND STORE ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND EAT ON ME FOR WEEKS ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[EAT EVERY LAST BIT OF ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND THEN FUCKING BOIL MY BONES FOR SOUP ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[PACK MY CARCASS IN A STOCKPOT ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[LIKE A LEFTOVER TURKEY ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[I WANT TO BE LEFTOVERS ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[I WANT TO LIVE INSIDE AN OVEN ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND THEN EXPIRE AND BE CONSUMED ENTIRELY ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[OH GOD IM IN CHARLENES KITCHEN ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND SHES RIGHT NEXT TO ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[HER HANDS ARE ON ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[HER HANDS ARE ABOUT TO BE INSIDE ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND IM ABOUT TO BE INSIDE HER ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[DIGESTING ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[FINALLY ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AFTER FIVE YEARS ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[SHES GOING TO EAT ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[SHES GOING TO ROAST ME ALIVE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[LIKE SHES ALWAYS WANTED ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[LIKE IVE ALWAYS WANTED ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[GOD SHES GOING TO COOK ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[FUCKING ALIVE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[ROAST ME IN AN OVEN ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[IN A PAN SHE MADE JUST FOR ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND ILL FEEL MYSELF COOK ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND ILL SMELL MY BODY ROASTING ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[BASTE ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[STUFF ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[GUT ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[ROAST MY FUCKING ASS ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND THEN CARRY ME OUT ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND CARVE ME LIKE A FUCKING TURKEY ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[SOAK MY JUICES IN MASHED POTATOES ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND EAT EVERY PART OF ME CHARLENE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[TAKE ME CHARLENE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[HAVE ME CHARLENE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[DINE ON ME CHARLENE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[JUST NOT YET ->Charlene Home C]]-[[AND ONCE YOURE FULL PORTION ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND STORE ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND EAT ON ME FOR WEEKS ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[EAT EVERY LAST BIT OF ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND THEN FUCKING BOIL MY BONES FOR SOUP ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[PACK MY CARCASS IN A STOCKPOT ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[LIKE A LEFTOVER TURKEY ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[I WANT TO BE LEFTOVERS ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[I WANT TO LIVE INSIDE AN OVEN ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND THEN EXPIRE AND BE CONSUMED ENTIRELY ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]
[javascript]
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setTimeout(() => {
if (old === passage.name) go("Mindbreak Char Ending");
}, 35_000);MINDBREAK
[[OH GOD IM IN CHARLENES KITCHEN ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND SHES RIGHT NEXT TO ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[HER HANDS ARE ON ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[HER HANDS ARE ABOUT TO BE INSIDE ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND IM ABOUT TO BE INSIDE HER ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[DIGESTING ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[FINALLY ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AFTER FIVE YEARS ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[SHES GOING TO EAT ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[SHES GOING TO ROAST ME ALIVE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[LIKE SHES ALWAYS WANTED ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[LIKE IVE ALWAYS WANTED ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[GOD SHES GOING TO COOK ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[FUCKING ALIVE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[ROAST ME IN AN OVEN ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[IN A PAN SHE MADE JUST FOR ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND ILL FEEL MYSELF COOK ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND ILL SMELL MY BODY ROASTING ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[BASTE ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[STUFF ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[GUT ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[ROAST MY FUCKING ASS ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND THEN CARRY ME OUT ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND CARVE ME LIKE A FUCKING TURKEY ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[SOAK MY JUICES IN MASHED POTATOES ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND EAT EVERY PART OF ME CHARLENE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[TAKE ME CHARLENE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[HAVE ME CHARLENE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[DINE ON ME CHARLENE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[JUST NOT YET ->HomeC Item]]-[[AND ONCE YOURE FULL PORTION ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND STORE ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND EAT ON ME FOR WEEKS ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[EAT EVERY LAST BIT OF ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND THEN FUCKING BOIL MY BONES FOR SOUP ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[PACK MY CARCASS IN A STOCKPOT ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[LIKE A LEFTOVER TURKEY ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[I WANT TO BE LEFTOVERS ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[I WANT TO LIVE INSIDE AN OVEN ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND THEN EXPIRE AND BE CONSUMED ENTIRELY ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[OH GOD IM IN CHARLENES KITCHEN ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND SHES RIGHT NEXT TO ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[HER HANDS ARE ON ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[HER HANDS ARE ABOUT TO BE INSIDE ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND IM ABOUT TO BE INSIDE HER ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[DIGESTING ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[FINALLY ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AFTER FIVE YEARS ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[SHES GOING TO EAT ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[SHES GOING TO ROAST ME ALIVE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[LIKE SHES ALWAYS WANTED ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[LIKE IVE ALWAYS WANTED ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[GOD SHES GOING TO COOK ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[FUCKING ALIVE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[ROAST ME IN AN OVEN ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[IN A PAN SHE MADE JUST FOR ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND ILL FEEL MYSELF COOK ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND ILL SMELL MY BODY ROASTING ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[BASTE ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[STUFF ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[GUT ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[ROAST MY FUCKING ASS ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND THEN CARRY ME OUT ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND CARVE ME LIKE A FUCKING TURKEY ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[SOAK MY JUICES IN MASHED POTATOES ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND EAT EVERY PART OF ME CHARLENE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[TAKE ME CHARLENE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[HAVE ME CHARLENE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[DINE ON ME CHARLENE ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[JUST NOT YET ->HomeC Item]]-[[AND ONCE YOURE FULL PORTION ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND STORE ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND EAT ON ME FOR WEEKS ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[EAT EVERY LAST BIT OF ME ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND THEN FUCKING BOIL MY BONES FOR SOUP ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[PACK MY CARCASS IN A STOCKPOT ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[LIKE A LEFTOVER TURKEY ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[I WANT TO BE LEFTOVERS ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[I WANT TO LIVE INSIDE AN OVEN ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]-[[AND THEN EXPIRE AND BE CONSUMED ENTIRELY ->Mindbreak Char Ending]]
[javascript]
const old = passage.name;
setTimeout(() => {
if (old === passage.name) go("Mindbreak Char Ending");
}, 14_000);You feel your control over the situation slipping as the last of the vegetables are added to the pan. You have a desire to get up, but an even stronger desire to remain. You're clinging to the part of your identity that wishes not to be consumed, while every other ounce of you desires to become another ounce of Charlene.
Ding dong.
The doorbell suddenly rings, and Charlene, for a second, seems slightly annoyed.
"Our guest is ahead of schedule. Jenna, why don't you instruct them to wait in the foyer until I can get this one to agree that she belongs in the oven?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Now, Scarlett. Our dinner guests are arriving, and it would be rude for us to keep them waiting. It's time that you learned your place."
Charlene says as she sticks a large vegetable inside you.
"Mmmm..."
"And have you even got one of those old-fashioned turkey timers? It'll pop out right when you're done. Just say the word. Say the word, and I will—"
"Scarlett!"
Charlene's head pops over to see you, and then she smiles with delight.
"I'm sorry, Mistress. She insisted. She ran right past me. I should have just grabbed her."
"Don't worry, darling. You must be Zoe Sanders."
You feel yourself suddenly ripped back to reality as you turn your head and see that Zoe has somehow found her way into Charlene's mansion and is now, once again, in your life—and in danger.
"I'm going to be brave. I'm going to save you. I just had to try."
"Save you!? Oh, my sweet little morsel. Why don't you come right over here and ask my sweet little roaster how she ended up in this pan?"
Zoe slowly walks over and stands above you.
"Is it true?"
"You shouldn't be here, Zoe."
"I... I make my own decisions now. Remember? What's going on, Scarlett? She hasn't even tied you down to the pan. You can get up, right? You can leave."
Your eyes wander around the room vacantly.
"Has she done something to you?"
"I have not done anything to sweet Scarlett. She has realized her purpose in this world and is finally willing to accept her destiny. She could get up anytime, but she stays in the pan because she wants to have a hot date in my oven. And who am I to stand in the way of such a romantic idea?"
"No... Scarlett is strong. She's tough. She's bigger than being eaten by someone like you."
"Someone like me, huh? I thought you felt it too. The temptation. The urging. You've been in Dulcet for nearly a week, and you're looking far too tasty tonight. Ever wonder, even a little bit, what it would be like to be turned into a delicious Zoe dinner?"
Zoe's face begins to flush.
"You know what? I have just the thing for this."
Charlene rushes behind her and begins searching through the various books spread across her countertop.
Zoe looks down.
"Scarlett... we really have to get out of here..."
"You have to go, Zoe. You have a life outside of this... Mine is here..."
"There's more to you than that. Don't you remember?"
"Here it is!" Charlene proclaims excitedly as she blows the dust off an old cookbook.
She walks over with a big smile, sets it down next to your pan, and begins turning the pages.
"I know it's in here somewhere. Gosh, it's such an exciting time. Haven't made this recipe in so long, but you two are just two peas in a pot. You're thick as thieves. Actually... it's right here. Exactly what you're going to be."
"Twin. Cornish. Hens."
Charlene walks over to Zoe, standing tall over her, and smiles.
"Look me in the eye and tell me that you haven't thought about being eaten."
"I..."
"Zoe, don't answer her."
"Now look me in the eye and tell me that you have thought about it. Just a little bit."
"Only a tiny bit... I only really wondered what I would—"
Charlene slips two fingers into Zoe, who immediately goes limp in her arms.
"No... Zoe..."
"That's right. Go to sleep, and I'm going to let you roast next to your new friend Scarlett. It's going to be quite the dinner, darling. I'm going to be so, so full over the next few months that I'll practically burst with joy. And, of course, burst with your delicious flesh."
"Jenna, fetch me another pan. We're roasting two tonight."
"Yes, Mistress."hasManual:true
--
You gasp back into reality just as you nearly wandered directly into the center of the kitchen, where you would've likely help them cook yourself alive in your shattered state of mind.
But, you were able to pull yourself back from the edge, and as you wander into the live cooking area, you notice a a manual for large cookware sliding off a a prep table and into the trash. You store it in your pocket just as you hear a yelling as the head chef of this restaurant, one of only two men working the back of the house, is towering over a woman dressed in a French maid outfit.
"How many times do I have to tell you how to temp a steak? You can tell by fucking touch."
"Yes chef..."
"Do you need me to sear you on the fucking grill? I bet your flesh would understand better than your brain does."
"No chef...I can..."
He grabs the maid by the hair and drags her to a hot grill station. He effortlessly scoops her up, as he stands over six foot tall and over two hundred fifty pounds, and carries her like a bride being carried over the threshold of marriage. But he is instead carrying her over the threshold from woman to meat, as he pulls up her dress and presses her ass first on the grill.
As she screams out in pain, no one in the kitchen stops working. The only one mesmerized is you, as you see the flood of emotions in her eyes, and the lack of any in his.
"What temperature are you?"
"...rare."
"Wrong, you're blue rare. Do we have an order for blue rare?"
"Table six, chef." the male sous chef working the spit station yells out.
"Good, let's get her served."
"...No...please...give me another ch-"
He rips off her dress and throws her down on the grill, her yelping out as he grabs a meat cleaver and in one stroke, chops her head clean off. You watch as her head rolls directly past you, her still blinking as she eyes widen, seeing through your disguise just as she dies. You duck around the corner and hide near the trash as her dress, and head, is dumped inside by two maids who rush back to work.
You decide now is the time for a costume change, as every woman in this kitchen is wearing the same outfit. You quickly grab the woman's outfit out of the trash, the hem of the dress wet with blood, and slip the garments on. You do your best to put on the same expression you saw all the other maids wear - an emotionless, dead stare as you turn the corner and enter the kitchen.
You quickly check the trash cans and see several severed heads, but don't see Zoe. You scan the grill stations where women have been butchered into steaks and chops, any of which could be her. You skim the line of women who are hung up for slaughter, and hear a splash as you watch a woman's neck slit, her life being flushed down a drain.
Another life lost, forgotten. There's a soullessness to this place.
You just have to remember which station to check first. You don't have a second to spare - what did Baron Louis Bouvier specifically say he was going to do to Zoe?
[[You peer at the spit area, the women rotating on the spits have their hair shaved clean off. Check the spits for Zoe. ->Found Zoe]]
[[You study the ovens and see women quivering, cooking alive. Check the ovens for Zoe. ->Table side breasts]]hasManual:false
--
You gasp back into reality just as you nearly wandered directly into the center of the kitchen, where you would've likely help them cook yourself alive in your shattered state of mind.
Just as you're able to collect your thoughts, you year a yelling as the head chef of this restaurant, one of only two men working the back of the house, is towering over a woman dressed in a French maid outfit.
"How many times do I have to tell you how to temp a steak? You can tell by fucking touch."
"Yes chef..."
"Do you need me to sear you on the fucking grill? I bet your flesh would understand better than your brain does."
"No chef...I can..."
He grabs the maid by the hair and drags her to a hot grill station. He effortlessly scoops her up, as he stands over six foot tall and over two hundred fifty pounds, and carries her like a bride being carried over the threshold of marriage. But he is instead carrying her over the threshold from woman to meat, as he pulls up her dress and presses her ass first on the grill.
As she screams out in pain, no one in the kitchen stops working. The only one mesmerized is you, as you see the flood of emotions in her eyes, and the lack of any in his.
"What temperature are you?"
"...rare."
"Wrong, you're blue rare. Do we have an order for blue rare?"
"Table six, chef." the male sous chef working the spit station yells out.
"Good, let's get her served."
"...No...please...give me another ch-"
He rips off her dress and throws her down on the grill, her yelping out as he grabs a meat cleaver and in one stroke, chops her head clean off. You watch as her head rolls directly past you, her still blinking as she eyes widen, seeing through your disguise just as she dies. You duck around the corner and hide near the trash as her dress, and head, is dumped inside by two maids who rush back to work.
You decide now is the time for a costume change, as every woman in this kitchen is wearing the same outfit. You quickly grab the woman's outfit out of the trash, the hem of the dress wet with blood, and slip the garments on. You do your best to put on the same expression you saw all the other maids wear - an emotionless, dead stare as you turn the corner and enter the kitchen.
You quickly check the trash cans and see several severed heads, but don't see Zoe. You scan the grill stations where women have been butchered into steaks and chops, any of which could be her. You skim the line of women who are hung up for slaughter, and hear a splash as you watch a woman's neck slit, her life being flushed down a drain.
Another life lost, forgotten. There's a soullessness to this place.
You just have to remember which station to check first. You don't have a second to spare - what did Baron Louis Bouvier specifically say he was going to do to Zoe?
[[You peer at the spit area, the women rotating on the spits have their hair shaved clean off. Check the spits for Zoe. ->Found Zoe]]
[[You study the ovens and see women quivering, cooking alive. Check the ovens for Zoe. ->TableSideW]]"Alright, Scarlett. As I've said before, we respect a woman's right to choose here." Phoenix says as she takes a drag from her vape. "Just know that your choice is going to have you fattened up and sold by the pound in a few months. It's a shame. We could've really used your help on Friday."
Phoenix rolls up the map and sets it aside, the map of the city center, and central plaza, now once again displayed on the table.
"Who says I'm not helping on Friday?" You say with a smile, waiting for Phoenix's eyes to meet yours. "A lot has happened in the last day. I've decided that..."
You pull out Dee's green journal and run your hand across it.
"I've decided that I want to make more of a difference here. It ISN'T enough to save just one woman. If you've got some plan to change this world for the better, well, you can count me in."
You raise your hand to shake Phoenix's, but Blueberry nearly knocks you over as she jumps on you with a hug. Phoenix smiles and joins in, the three of you sharing a moment of safety, of joy, of hope - even in this place, as the day concludes.
"I'll see to it we have some quarters arranged for you, and a hot meal. Take respite with us thiss night Scarlett Sky - you're going to need it if you have ANY chance of surviving tomorrow. And...promise me you'll come back to us. On Friday - together - we are going to show them that we CONSENT - as is the tradition on that holiday, but not in the way any of them will expect."
[[Advance to: Thursday, Dawn.->OEB]]"Alright, Scarlett. As I've said before, we respect a woman's right to choose here." Phoenix says as she takes a drag from her vape. "Just know that your choice is likely to have you hung by your ankles and bled out before the day is over. It's a shame. We could've really used your help on Friday."
Phoenix rolls up the map and sets it aside, the map of the city center, and central plaza, now once again displayed on the table.
"Who says I'm not helping on Friday?" You say with a smile, waiting for Phoenix's eyes to meet yours. "A lot has happened in the last day. I've decided that..."
You pull out Dee's green journal and run your hand across it.
"I've decided that I want to make more of a difference here. It ISN'T enough to save just one woman. If you've got some plan to change this world for the better, well, you can count me in."
You raise your hand to shake Phoenix's, but Blueberry nearly knocks you over as she jumps on you with a hug. Phoenix smiles and joins in, the three of you sharing a moment of safety, of joy, of hope - even in this place, as the day concludes.
"I'll see to it we have some quarters arranged for you, and a hot meal. Get some rest, Scarlett Sky - you're going to need it if you have ANY chance of surviving tomorrow. And...promise me you'll come back to us. On Friday - together - we are going to show them that we CONSENT - as is the tradition on that holiday, but not in the way any of them will expect."
[[Advance to: Thursday, Dawn.->Overnight Eating]]"Alright, Scarlett. As I've said before, we respect a woman's right to choose here." Phoenix says as she takes a drag from her vape. "Just know that your choice is likely to have you disappear forever. It's a shame. We could've really used your help on Friday."
Phoenix rolls up the map and sets it aside, the map of the city center, and central plaza, now once again displayed on the table.
"Who says I'm not helping on Friday?" You say with a smile, waiting for Phoenix's eyes to meet yours. "A lot has happened in the last day. I've decided that..."
You pull out Dee's green journal and run your hand across it.
"I've decided that I want to make more of a difference here. It ISN'T enough to save just one woman. If you've got some plan to change this world for the better, well, you can count me in."
You raise your hand to shake Phoenix's, but Blueberry nearly knocks you over as she jumps on you with a hug. Phoenix smiles and joins in, the three of you sharing a moment of safety, of joy, of hope - even in this place, as the day concludes.
"I'll see to it we have some quarters arranged for you, and a hot meal. Get some rest, Scarlett Sky - you're going to need it if you have ANY chance of surviving tomorrow. And...promise me you'll come back to us. On Friday - together - we are going to show them that we do CONSENT - as is the tradition of our most sacred holiday, but not in the way any of them will expect."
[[Advance to: Thursday, Dawn.->OEW]]"Here it is, officer. My name is Christine Wood. I'm traveling from North Carolina. I'm here on a Conversion Visa."
You feel confident that you gave your fake name with a believable tone and smile politely as you try to look the part of an eager snuffette who has traveled to Dolcett with the goal of being eaten. You realize the eager smile sits rather naturally, but you don't allow your mind to wander back to fantasy land.
"Ah. A Conversion Visa from the United States. Damn. There's something about foreign meat that just tastes a little more...clean...on the palate. You're going to make a fine meal, if I do say so myself..."
He stands up behind the glass window, and you fight your instincts to take a more aggressive stance.
*Just look the part, Scarlett. Look docile and delicious.*
He finishes his scan of your body, like he's looking through your clothes, and nods.
"...Yeah, I'd love to be the one to eat you myself, even if you're a little bit older..."
You realize you instinctively squint out of frustration at his words, but then force a pursed smile onto your lips to balance it out.
"You're very kind."
He begins to type something in his computer and you look over your shoulder to plan a potential escape. You notice there are multiple guards with AK-47s patrolling the airport, and one of them looks to have dried blood on his uniform. You look back at the immigration officer as you experience fear taking over your instincts.
He nods at the computer and smiles as he looks back at you.
"At any rate, I wish you a pleasant stay and a sizzalating demise. Welcome to Dolcett."
You eagerly take your passport and visa back and rush toward the exit. You keep your head on a swivel as you follow the signs and are relieved to see daylight just as you exit the terminal. You breathe a sigh of relief as the sunlight hits your face, but you don't even see it coming when a nightstick strikes the side of your head, knocking you unconscious before you even hit the ground.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
As you come to, you realize your jaw is so broken that you can't speak. You peer through bars as you see two officers sitting at a table, in the middle of some argument.
"I'm telling you, man. Friday is the easiest day to work of the entire calendar year," the older officer says.
"Whatever you say, boss," the younger one responds. "I'd rather just be at home with the missis, having myself a nice dinner."
"Yeah, well, that's because you're not thinking about the big picture. There is overtime involved. Sometimes, heck, they pay triple time for Friday. Triple time! You can buy whatever meat girl you want. Maybe even a live one."
"That's a good point, boss..." the younger one says as he turns his gaze to you. "Speaking of meat girls, what are we going to do with this one?"
"Oh, well... about her..." the older one says as he turns to look at you as well. "Usually, a falsifier of documents like this, well, she becomes the property of the officer who's made the claim. But just as we went to put her in the system under her fakel name, it pulled up her REAL name. Then, she was flagged due to her previous misbehavior in this here country. It turns out a deal has already been arranged for her custody."
"You used a lot of big words there, boss."
"What I'm saying is, someone has prepaid a heavy price on this one to claim her the minute she ever stepped foot back in the country."
"Who in the heck would do that, boss?"
"A very powerful woman indeed. She's the head of—"
The prison door unlocks from the lobby, and the sound of heels clicking echoes as a woman's silhouette enters the room. You gaze through blurry vision as the silhouette becomes clearer and the face leans between the bars.
"Well, HELLO, darling. I've just been waiting for this moment for so long."
*********
[[Checkpoint - Monday Afternoon, Customs ->Airplane, Customs Death]]"Here it is, officer. My name is Claire Webber. I'm traveling from North Carolina. I'm here on a Conversion Visa."
You feel confident that you gave your fake name with a believable tone and smile politely as you try to look the part of an eager snuffette who has traveled to Dolcett with the goal of being eaten. You realize the eager smile sits rather naturally, but you don't allow your mind to wander back to fantasy land.
"Ah. A Conversion Visa from the United States. Damn. There's something about foreign meat that just tastes a little more...clean...on the palate. You're going to make a fine meal, if I do say so myself..."
He stands up behind the glass window, and you fight your instincts to take a more aggressive stance.
*Just look the part, Scarlett. Look docile and delicious.*
He finishes his scan of your body, like he's looking through your clothes, and nods.
"...Yeah, I'd love to be the one to eat you myself, even if you're a little bit older..."
You realize you instinctively squint out of frustration at his words, but then force a pursed smile onto your lips to balance it out.
"You're very kind."
He begins to type something in his computer and you look over your shoulder to plan a potential escape. You notice there are multiple guards with AK-47s patrolling the airport, and one of them looks to have dried blood on his uniform. You look back at the immigration officer as you experience fear taking over your instincts.
He nods at the computer and smiles as he looks back at you.
"At any rate, I wish you a pleasant stay and a sizzalating demise. Welcome to Dolcett."
You eagerly take your passport and visa back and rush toward the exit. You keep your head on a swivel as you follow the signs and are relieved to see daylight just as you exit the terminal. You breathe a sigh of relief as the sunlight hits your face, but you don't even see it coming when a nightstick strikes the side of your head, knocking you unconscious before you even hit the ground.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
As you come to, you realize your jaw is so broken that you can't speak. You peer through bars as you see two officers sitting at a table, in the middle of some argument.
"I'm telling you, man. Friday is the easiest day to work of the entire calendar year," the older officer says.
"Whatever you say, boss," the younger one responds. "I'd rather just be at home with the missis, having myself a nice dinner."
"Yeah, well, that's because you're not thinking about the big picture. There is overtime involved. Sometimes, heck, they pay triple time for Friday. Triple time! You can buy whatever meat girl you want. Maybe even a live one."
"That's a good point, boss..." the younger one says as he turns his gaze to you. "Speaking of meat girls, what are we going to do with this one?"
"Oh, well... about her..." the older one says as he turns to look at you as well. "Usually, a falsifier of documents like this, well, she becomes the property of the officer who's made the claim. But just as we went to put her in the system under her fakel name, it pulled up her REAL name. Then, she was flagged due to her previous misbehavior in this here country. It turns out a deal has already been arranged for her custody."
"You used a lot of big words there, boss."
"What I'm saying is, someone has prepaid a heavy price on this one to claim her the minute she ever stepped foot back in the country."
"Who in the heck would do that, boss?"
"A very powerful woman indeed. She's the head of—"
The prison door unlocks from the lobby, and the sound of heels clicking echoes as a woman's silhouette enters the room. You gaze through blurry vision as the silhouette becomes clearer and the face leans between the bars.
"Well, HELLO, darling. I've just been waiting for this moment for so long."
*********
[[Checkpoint - Monday Afternoon, Customs ->Airplane, Customs Death]]Puma takes a step toward you, and then another, and you watch as she shifts her weight onto her right foot before using it as a launching pad to lunge in Jenna's direction. You take a step toward them to intercede, but you decide to stand your ground and watch. As you do, you feel your heart sink as Puma's fist connects squarely with Jenna's jaw, sending her flying across the office and crashing to the floor.
Your legs carry you over on autopilot as you rush to Jenna in regret and kneel down to help her.
Just as you do, you feel one hand grip your jaw and another wrap around your neck.
"Game over, Scarlett Sky. You're dinner."
You place a hand on Puma to throw her off, but then loosen your grip.
"I understand. I have to remember that, at my core, I'm always trying to help people. If I lost sight of that..."
"...you'll be distracted, or worse, destroyed. Helping is good. Leaving yourself no route to counter or escape will likely spell your doom."
You help Jenna to her feet and hand her her glasses as she continues to wince and adjust her jaw.
"It's okay, really," Jenna says as her lip swells. "Better you learn this way than in Dolcett."
"Thank you for understanding, Jenna," you say before turning to face Puma.
"You have to keep your head on straight to survive in Dolcett. There are going to be situations that are too dangerous to try to be a hero, but you also can't lose sight of why you've stayed in this business for so long."
"I won't lose myself. I haven't sat behind this desk and signed off on so many..."
A vacant look—a flash of sorrow—crosses her face for just a second.
"...so many... conversions of so many women, if I didn't believe what I was doing was right. That doesn't mean I sign off on every one, or that I don't think deeply about the ones I do. It just means that I realize my role is both important and limited. That is the nature of being human."
"Yes, your moral compass has guided you for many years. But it is just one of many tools you may rely on in Dolcett. In this story, you'll also occasionally be rewarded with an item for completing a successful string of challenges or by finding and completing a rare passage in the story. If you obtain an item, you'll have an opportunity to use it at one specific passage in the future. If you choose not to use it at that specific moment, it's wasted. Also, whenever you use an item, you will always advance in the story because it has a guaranteed success rate.
"If you do not have the item, you will not see that choice, and you will be left to determine the path forward using the previous methods. If you're faced with a choice you cannot solve and have to guess, it's likely because you missed an item earlier that would have given you a solution."
"Got it. Actually, now that you mention it, I am carrying something from my apartment that I grabbed after a strange dream I had."
"Good. Let's see if you can use it to help block my next attack."
[[Prepare yourself to guard against a striking attack. ->Tutorial Item Good MB]]
[[Prepare yourself to guard against a grappling attack.->Tutorial Item Bad MB]]
[if hasAItem]
[[Pull the lanyard off of your neck and hold it in your hand. You can use it to restrain Puma. ->Tutorial Lanyard]]
[if hasBItem]
[[Slide your hand into your pocket and grip your car keys. You can use them as a weapon. ->Tutorial Keys]]
[if hasCItem]
[[Let your left hand wander towards your back pocket. The towel is just hanging out. ->Tutorial Towel]]
[if hasDItem]
[[The metal water bottle you brought in is just within reach. Grab it as soon as Puma makes her move. ->Tutorial Bottle]]Puma takes a step toward you, and then another, and you watch as she shifts her weight onto her right foot before using it as a launching pad to lunge in Jenna's direction. Panic rises in your chest, and you throw yourself into harm's way, blocking Puma's advance and taking a blow directly to the center of your spine. The impact sends a shockwave of electricity through your body as you fall, dazed, to the floor. Puma grabs you by the hair, lifting your head, and presses her hand against your neck.
"And just like that, Scarlett Sky, you'd be someone's dinner," Puma growls, taking a moment to taste your ear just as you regain your wits, shove her away, and get back to your feet.
"Are you OK?" Jenna asks, helping you up.
"Yes, but I've learned a valuable lesson. I do care about people, and I want to help, but I've always got to have a plan to keep myself safe, too."
"Keep yourself safe first. Remember—if you die, the game is over. You can't lose yourself and become a monster, but you also can't help anyone if you're being harvested for your meat. There are going to be situations that are simply too dangerous to try to be a hero, but you also can't lose sight of why you've done this work for so long."
"I won't lose myself. I haven't sat behind this desk and signed off on so many..."
A vacant look crosses her face, followed by a flash of sorrow.
"...so many... conversions of so many women, if I didn't believe what I was doing was right. That doesn't mean I sign off on every one, or that I don't think deeply about the ones I do. It just means that I realize my role is both important and limited. That is the nature of being human."
"Yes, your moral compass has guided you for many years. But it is just one of the many tools you may encounter in Dolcett. In this story, you'll also occasionally be rewarded with an item by completing a successful string of challenges or by finding and completing a rare passage in the story. If you obtain an item, you'll have an opportunity to use it at one specific passage in the future. If you choose not to use it at that specific moment, it's wasted. Also, whenever you use an item, you will always advance in the story, as it has a guaranteed success rate.
"If you do not have the item, you will not see that choice, and you will be left to determine the path forward using the previous methods. If you're faced with a choice you cannot solve and have to guess, it's likely because you missed an item earlier that would have provided a solution."
"Got it. Actually, now that you mention it, I am carrying something from my apartment that I grabbed after a strange dream I had."
"Good. Let's see if you can use it to help block my next attack."
[[Prepare yourself to guard against a striking attack. ->Tutorial Item Good MB]]
[[Prepare yourself to guard against a grappling attack.->Tutorial Item Bad MB]]
[if hasAItem]
[[Pull the lanyard off of your neck and hold it in your hand. You can use it to restrain Puma. ->Tutorial Lanyard]]
[if hasBItem]
[[Slide your hand into your pocket and grip your car keys. You can use them as a weapon. ->Tutorial Keys]]
[if hasCItem]
[[Let your left hand wander towards your back pocket. The towel is just hanging out. ->Tutorial Towel]]
[if hasDItem]
[[The metal water bottle you brought in is just within reach. Grab it as soon as Puma makes her move. ->Tutorial Bottle]]You're going to like lom so good in my trophy case rape scene
Look at me look at me...Look at me, look at me, I want your last thought on Earth to be that you're going to be MY fucking dinner/going in MY fucking stomach
Good girl, just like that. Don't clench your jaw...soften, soften. Eye contact. There. Good girl. Hold still.
He stabs her in the throat.
Your eyes bulge.
Ssss, ssshh. Soften. A little fear is good. Acceptance. Show you accept. it. Show you know you're going to be mine forever. There it is...
Your breathing slows.
There it is...
Your breathing stops.
Mmmm. The perfect portrait of defeat.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
You still think your special now huh bitch?
He leans in and stares in her life less eye
I didn't think so.
He puts her behind a glass display case and locks the case shut
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
There's just one thing I can never understand. How do you get the expression to be so exquisite?
The man who has slaughtered you gives a light laugh as he stands around a half dozen men and women dressed in cocktail attire as he stands in front of a glass case. Waiters walk by with hors d'oeuvres of your meat on platters, with people casually picking off a piece of your thigh or shoulder or back and slide it into their mouth. Another man stands with an entire leg chewing at your calf as he listens.
You see, it's just about maximizing the moment where you take their life. It's an art form. Something that I specialize in I make sure there's an absolute moment where I can capture their final expression and lock it in their place just as I take their life.
Oh one of the women says. I hope you never do the same to me
She lets out a nervous laugh as he does not respond slowly. Her laugh becomes quiet and she fidgets in place her feet turning looking for an exit
Then, slowly, he smiles.
You don't have to worry. I only eat interesting women.
The group laughs around her and she takes a moment a second to be offended before she bursts out in a fake laughter. Do anything to cut the tension of the moment .
Your cunt is brought over on a platter, cooked rare.
"You know they say the cap is the best part of the steak."
He slices off your clit and slides it in your mouth.
Mmmmm.
He turns and takes one more admiration of his trophy before closing the glass case and locking it with a small key. Your head is now locked and mounted as a trophy among 30 others, all with a little display explaining who they were and what they did before they were added to his collection. Just as you were warned, you are now part of a conversation piece, with the rest of you being passed along by various guests who munch on you while enjoying drinks and enjoying the finer things in life.
Your hips just as bones now are placed on an end table as an ashtray.Your rise up to your feet, feeling unsteady on your balance as you've been crawling for hours.
You see the guards surround you, ready to strike you back down, but Mistress Everett raises a hand for them to pause.
"Slaughter me. I'm ready to be eaten, Mistress"
"Are you? I don't believe you. You're just willing to die to save your friend. No, I don't think so."
You see her look down to press the button and you scream out.
"Moo!!!!"
You notice you've got her attention and you place your hand deep inside your pussy and begin to rub vigorously.
"Please Mistress, please slaughter me. I want to be eaten tonight. I'm so tired of resisting. I absolutely understand my place. I don't want to wait any longer. I wanted you and digested and forgotten about. I'm just meat for a man's table. Please let me have this. Please let me..."
You realize you haven't convinced her, but she's coming around. You're going to need to show her something, something that's unmistakable.
You're going to have to dig deep to do what you're going to have to do next.
You close your eyes and bite your lip so hard you draw blood and you take your free hand and squeeze your own throat as you squeeze your legs together.
"Please Mistress, please let me be slaughtered tonight. Please let me satisfy a man's palate. Please don't make me wait, so many of these girls have to wait so long. But I am READY to be dinner. I've always wanted to be dinner. PLEASE. PLEA-"
You orgasm so hard that you scream out, literally stopping the production of the entire barn. A thick discharge rockets out of your vagina as you squirt not only your own fluids, but some of the seed from your breeding earlier. You moan loudly through each pulsating rush of pleasure that you knock yourself off your feet, collapsing on the ground below.
As you lay, you're not sure if was you just did was an act, or it was reality. You're completely lost as you feel the Mistress pet you on the head.
"Oh Melody. Breaking you was a pleasure that I'll never forget."
She makes a gesture as the girl from the LFD is lowered down and the chains are strapped to your ankles. You don't move, blink, or make an expression as you're hung up and dangle lifelessly, still in a post orgasm bliss. Mistress Everett walks over and holds the button in front of you, looking directly at you for the first time.
"I'm going to make sure they save some of your ground meat for me. I know exactly what I'm going to make out of you."
She whispers the meal she plans to prepare in your ear, and you moan as she presses the button down, sending you down the conveyor to your doom.
GAME OV—
As the conveyor pulls you out of sight, you blink yourself back into reality and gasp for air, realizing you're going to have to act quickly before this machine tears you apart. You race back to the first clue.
It was a shape - she was trying to tell you something. Regardless, you see saws activate just ahead of you and you've got to act quickly.
[[Flatten yourself as much as possible so the saws that come can't slice through you. ->Sawed]]
[[Use your core strength to pull yourself up and hang at the top of the chain, avoiding the saws. ->Convey 2]]You aggressively sit up and grab the top of the chain, trying to hang above the blades that are headed your way.
You remembered the first shape was a triangle. A triangle points up. It must have meant to go up.
You watch the blade that would have come clear across your neck if you had many any choicee past by. You have to shimmy a bit to the side to avoid a vertical blade that nearly cuts you in half, eager to slice your guts out. A third blade is much to low to do any damage, likely coming across to slice any dangling appendages.
You sigh out in relief that you've at least interpreted correctly and survived the first trial.
You try and remember the next symbol that you were shown.
Before you have too much time to concentrate, you see four mechancial arms, with black metal clasping jaws, spreading out in various directions, searching for you. You've got another choice to make.
[[Ball yourself up and try to keep your limbs close. ->Convey 3]]
[[Keep your limbs free, stay observant, react. ->Dismember]]You remember the second clue was a circle. You aren't sure what it means, but you decide to ball yourself up as tightly as you can, pressing your limbs into your body. You aren't able to watch, but you can feel the speed of the mechanical hands as they rush by you and clamp down. Viciously, the banging sound is enough to hurt your ears from the vibration.
You hear clashing all around you.
CRUNCH.
CRUNCH.
CRUNCH.
But you don't feel anything, at least not yet. Just as soon as the clashing sounds begin, you hear them stop, and you're willing to stick your head out to look around.
The hands are in the distance. You realize that they were programmed to reach out for your appendages, pull them from your body, and then sever them. You've survived this station as well.
You allow yourself to hang free again, resting your body as you try to remember would was the final clue.
You feel sunlight on you, and you can see the truck at the end of the tunnel—you’re close. This has to be the last step.
As you dangle there and look at your options, you look up and see that the chain has been damaged—one of the rings has a crack in it. You could reach up and unhook yourself, then try to jump down somewhere. The question is—where?
[[As you look down, you see several crates filled with packaged meat underneath you. ->Convey Survive]]
[[You also see that there’s a plastic wrap station where the wrap is quickly being sealed around cuts. You could likely jump down and bounce right off. ->Plastic]]
[[You lastly notice that the bed of the truck is open, and you could probably jump right in. ->Truck Fail]]You decide that the message from—you realize you forgot to ask her name—was to climb into this box. If you were going to get onto the truck quietly and remain concealed, you weren't simply going to be able to do so by hopping aboard. You had to be stored in some type of discreet hidden spot.
You don't want to be wrapped in plastic, either as you don't know if you'll be able to breathe. But as the wooden crate approaches, you notice that when one is loaded next to it, once it is full, the machine detects the weight and seals it. You jump into the empty box next to it, hoping for the best.
As you do, you land on several prepackaged cuts of meat, with others coming in after. You wait and wait, and the box is sealed above you. You still have some room to breathe, as the wooden pallet has gaps that allow oxygen to pass through.
You decide to sit and wait. There's nothing else for you to do now. After sitting for what seems like an hour, you feel the box begin to move, and you're set down again. You peer out through one of the slits in the wooden pallet and are able to look around as the tarp at the back of the truck is folded and dropped over the rear.
You did it. You're in one piece, and you're on the truck somehow. As the engine roars to life, you look and see the nails sticking precariously out of the crate. The diesel engine of the truck roars loudly—loudly enough to allow you to begin pushing upwards until you can feel the box crack open just slightly, allowing you to eventually climb out.
As you do, you peek your head outside the drape at the back of the truck, just as you see Bouvier Farms disappearing in the distance. This truck is headed directly to the banquet, and it will arrive just before dinner is scheduled to be served.
You wait until the truck goes through an inspection point just outside the grounds of the banquet hall and the mansion of Baron Bouvier. As the truck pulls out of that checkpoint, and around the side of the building, you take your opportunity to slip out of the back and roll into some shrubbery, positioning you just outside the banquet hall.
Hopefully, you're right on schedule to save Zoe.
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Thurs PM - Banquet Hall, Outside->Banquet Outside]]Charlene throws an apple in front of her face and shoves it into Zoe's mouth. She then holds her hand out as Jenna places another one in her palm, meant to silence you. Charlene grins as wide as you've ever seen as she reaches down to—
"Wait. I'd like to...cum as I go. I want to touch myself while I'm roasting. Please."
Charlene throws the apple in the air as she considers your plea.
"Lucky for you, I can accommodate such a request. But my Cornish Hens are going to have to work together."
She presses a button that unclasps your right arm, and she repositions it over Zoe’s cunt. She snaps her fingers and Jenna quickly hands her some roasting twine, and she binds your wrist to Zoe’s thigh. She then does the same to Zoe’s hand, and you feel Zoe begin to rub your clit.
“Mmmmphh…” you moan as you’re sensitive and eager to having multiples.
"Now. Make sure you give me a few good ones, both of you."
You and Zoe are loaded on the oven rack one by one. The door is slammed shut, and your hands eagerly get to work.
But, they don’t work to escape. You pull at your binds for a second, but Zoe works frantically to bring you to orgasm. Your eyes roll back in your head as the heat overtakes you, and you surrender to a few last moments of carnal pleasure before you are served as a culinary delight.
GAME OVER. YOU AND ZOE WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
As your brain surrenders to seeking not an escape, but pleasure, you resolve your last minutes to be filled with release. As Zoe rubs your moist cunt, you apply equal pressure in kind. There's a sort of dance between your two hands, as just one of you is able to bring the other one to climax, the other works just just as hard to repay the favor. Soon, the only sounds are vigorous rubbing and moaning, a symphony of ecstasy as the two of you try to finger blast the other into oblivion as the entire shared experience becomes orgasmic. The cramped, hot oven steams over from the amount of feminine juices that are released between your shared legs, fogging the oven window over entirely.
Charlene sits and listens to the screaming inside of the oven, her smile as wide as you would have ever seen. But you are lost in the moment, edging out half a dozen orgasms before your body goes from vigorously rubbing to completely dead in an instant, your last and final seconds spent dedicated to a total enrapturing of lust before you collapse into nothingness.
You and Zoe continue to roast together throughout the evening, soaked in sweat, ecstasy, and your own juices. When Charlene finally opens your oven, and the scent of your shared pleasure wafts out, she literally orgasms in place, the smell of your shared effort igniting a climax inside her unlike anything she's ever experienced.
The only thing that ever tops that moment - is her first taste.
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Saturday AM, Charlene's Kitchen ->HomeC Clean]]You run back onto the street while scanning the steet, but don't see anyone on the sidwalk. Regardless, you find another cranny in an adjacent building that is one block from the entrance to the hotel and flatten your stomach against the brick, to best to conceal your position. You creep your head out once, and see that Kyle is still smoking his cigarette, looking around as if he specifically is looking for someone, probably you, but does not know where you've gone.
Just as you exhale in relief, you feel the air punched out of your lungs as a knife is pressed firmly into your back, piercing you through the heart just as a hand covers your mouth.
You freeze in place as you feel your heart literally stop inside your chest as you try to look over your shoulder and see who has snuffed you.
The young married couple is standing behind you, with the man lodging the knife in your back, and the woman holding your mouth quiet.
"You could've let her scream." The husband says.
"I know, I just don't like to hear it. It's not necessary. Besides, YOU said we were going to the grocery store."
"I said we were going to the market. And now, we have the next best thing."
You feel the life rapidly fading from your body.
"Serves her right." The wife says. "I don't know who would be stupid enough to wander the streets on subjugation night, especially a single woman like this."
"Don't worry honey, I'm sure she makes up in taste what she lacked in intelligence."
You lose consciousness forever as blood stops falling to your brain and slump over into the man's arms, as he picks you up over his shoulder and they walk hand in hand back to their home.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
*******************
A one pot meal for less dishes**One (More) Week in Dolcett: Scarlett Sky**
<span class="appear d1">A Strict-Smile2087 production</span>
<span class="appear d2">
Story: Strict-Smile2087
Scenario: Strict-Smile2087
Characters: Strict-Smile2087
Game Design: Strict-Smile2087
Production: Strict-Smile2087
</span>
<span class="appear d3">
Pretty much everything except the below: Strict-Smile2087
</span>
<span class="appear d4">
**Strict-Smile2087 Reddit Page:**
https://www.reddit.com/user/Strict-Smile2087/
Send me a DM on Reddit or email me at
strictsmile2087@gmail.com
**Cover Art: Felipe Poveda**
https://www.deviantart.com/felipepoveda/gallery/all
1freamworld@gmail.com
**Chapbook coding support: Maliface**
https://maliface.itch.io/
**Special thanks to testers:**
Doe_Eyes63, TheWalkingFeast, Remi239, AveryF.
</span>
<span class="appear d5">
And THANK YOU for reading. As a writer, the only thing I can ever ask for is to be read. So, thank you for giving me the chance to entertain, inspire, arouse, and challenge you with this story.
[if hasDee]
[[Enter the Dee Elizabeth White Memorial Library and read "A Woman's Quest for Meaning - and not just Meat-ing". ->DeeLib]]
[else]
Enter the Dee Elizabeth White Memorial Library and read "A Woman's Quest for Meaning - and just not Meat-ing".
(Unlocks after two play throughs without clicking restart.)
[if trail.includes('The Mysterious Wood') & trail.includes ('Hunt Sign Up') & trail.includes ('First Coin Flip')]
[[Read the One (More) Week in Dolcett Player's Guide->Guide]]
[else]
Read the One (More) Week in Dolcett Player's Guide
(Unlocks after playing through all three Thursday choices without clicking restart.)
[[New Game+: Start a new game here to attempt to unlock the above perks. ->NewGame+]]
{save to file: 'Save Your Game Clear Progress Here.'}
</span>He nods at the computer and smiles as he looks back at you.
" But heck, that's nothing my wife couldn't fix. Why don't you come home with me and we'll make sure that whatever your fantasy is comes true. I'll make it painless. Can't promise the same for you if you go on on your own."
Accept his offer
Decline his offer
Oh, no! Thank you. I am, I have some specific plans in mind.
Oh yeah? Just to make sure you are who you say you are, can you tell me where you're staying and how you're planning to be? You know cooked.
Tell him you're staying at a hotel and you're planning to be roasted alive.
Tell him you're staying at a hotel and you're planning to be boiled.
Tell him you're staying at a hotel and you're hoping to be spitted.
Tell him you're staying at a hotel and you're hoping to be butchered and eaten piece by piece.
Here it is, officer. My name is Claire Wood. I'm traveling from North Carolina. I'm here on a conversion visa."
You feel confident that you gave your fake name with a believable tone, and smile politely as try to look the part of an eager snuffette who has traveled to dolcept with the goal of being eaten. It's not as hard of a thing to fake as your name, as there's a bit of Truth in this all along.
"Ah. A conversion Visa from The United States. Damn. They're going to make mighty fine eaten if you don't mind my saying it. Sure, you're a little bit older..."
You realize you instinctively squint at frustration at his words, but then force a purse. Smile to balance it out.
He nods at the computer and smiles as he looks back at you.
" But heck, that's nothing my wife couldn't fix. Why don't you come home with me and we'll make sure that whatever your fantasy is comes true. I'll make it painless. Can't promise the same for you if you go on on your own."
Accept his offer
Decline his offer
Oh, no! Thank you. I am, I have some specific plans in mind.
Oh yeah? Just to make sure you are who you say you are, can you tell me where you're staying and how you're planning to be? You know cooked.
Tell him you're staying at a hotel and you're planning to be roasted alive.
Tell him you're staying at a hotel and you're planning to be boiled.
Tell him you're staying at a hotel and you're hoping to be spitted.
Tell him you're staying at a hotel and you're hoping to be butchered and eaten piece by piece."You sure you're up for this?"
You walk naked, a collar at your neck, as you are led by a leash towards the entrance to the parade route. Behind you is all 45 members of the LFD, all naked, collared, and led by the same connecting leash - with one person in the lead.
"The way I see it, how often is it you get to drag a few dozen naked women around by the neck? How could I ever pass on something like that?"
Asher looks over at you, his eyes wandering up and down your body, and smiles.
Besides, what's the worst they can do to me? I looked it up yesterday, and they just write fines for first offenses for men here. If anything, I could probably get out of this ENTIRE thing by saying you sirens talked me into this. Heck, I could probably get a plate or two of you served to me as consolation for my trouble.
You want to be frustrated at what you hope is a joke, but your legs just rub together instead.
"And I have to say, Scarlett, you're the finest-looking woman of the bunch. Honestly, you're the most delicious-looking woman I've ever laid eyes on."
His breath is hot on your face as you nearly swoon, imagining yourself a full roaster to finally meet Asher's one lingering desire. You realize that, in this way, you are two sides of the same coin, and that, in some reality, you could both really satisfy each other's urges in a way no one else ever could.
As he opens the door to the small guard checkpoint into the parade route, you push your fantasies aside and settle in on reality. A lone guard sits with his feet up on his desk, thumbing through a “Delectable Girls” magazine.
"Man. I sure could go for a pair of those legs."
As you enter, he hovers his finger over a red button, but when he sees Asher, he slumps back in his chair.
"You're a little late to be joining the parade, aren't you?" he says suspiciously, his finger lingering over a red button. “I’m fairly certain we’re at capacity.”
"Sorry, I needed to have a little more fun with this one before I lead her to roast." Asher says as he slaps you hard on the ass.
You fight the urge to glare over at him, but bite your lip as you rather liked it.
"Ha, I could see that. Not every day you see a redhead. Alright, permits, please. They will have to be verified by the central office."
[[Crack the gatekeeper’s skull against the desk and enter the parade route. ->Assault]]
[[Let Asher hand him your permits and wait for clearance to be given. ->Played too nice]]sectionCount: trail.length - sectionStart
--
[If sectionCount <=6]
Step by step, second by second, Puma gets closer. But you wait, your blade standing tall and true in front of you. You've listened to the message of the forest, and you'll have to continue fighting from underneath.
When she's close enough, she tries to knock your Chanir from your hand with one powerful slash, but you bring it back in front of you, limping backward. She jabs next, and you parry her strike. She breathes in and slices from multiple directions, with you deflecting, dodging, parrying, and dancing along with her, just as she said as this battle began: two equals locked in combat—only one outcome remaining.
Suddenly, she leaps, her body suspended in a second of finality, her positioning committed to one outcome.
Either she will kill you, or you will kill her.
There is no other outcome possible as she drives the icepick grip downward, thrusting her blade towards your heart.
You raise your aim high towards her stomach, splitting through and against the rays of the sun just as she dives on top of you.
Two blades, one outcome.
Puma falls on top of you, and you both tumble into the dirt, leaves launching off the ground and hovering around you as silence overtakes the moment.
The first breath that is heard is Zoe’s.
Slow, quiet, questioning breaths. The sound of uncertainty—the battle concluded.
Puma rolls off the top of you, with her Chanir implanted three inches into your shoulder.
You look over, and see your Chanir...
...is dug deeply into her chest.
"...the forest has spoken..." Puma says, her voice becoming weak.
************
As you find your feet, you grip Puma's Chanir, slowly pulling it from your shoulder. You turn and cut Zoe down, lowering her to the forest floor and severing her binds.
You then turn to look at Puma, as she stares off into a void, to a place that is beyond this world.
"I...understand now. While I am native to this land, you embody it. I am just a part of its history, destined to pass and return to my ancestors a failure."
"You're no failure, Puma." you say, kneeling down. "The best parts of me came from you."
“No...I have shamed myself and my people. On the very day that the women of this land break the bonds of their traditions - I am broken by my own. I spent my life following the guidance of my ancestors, but somewhere along the way, I lost their meaning. I was unable to see beyond the binds of my desires. And now, my realization has come only in death."
“Your beliefs never bound you, Puma - they allowed you to become more than anyone, even yourself, ever thought possible. Without you, I would never be who I am today. This country would never have been free without your guidance. I won’t discard the lessons you've instilled on me, and I know that your identity isn't bound to this moment. Who you truly are I will proudly carry within me, always.”
“Then you have finally come. The Q'lanar."
"...I've heard that name before."
"It's special among my people. It means 'one who walks many paths.' It's reserved for the one who will take us beyond this place."
"Beyond?"
"To be who we are meant to be. Not just warriors, or meat, or pawns in a larger world, but as a people. It's part of a tradition...one of many traditions that, after the events of today, will pass on into nothingness.
“Why do your traditions have to end?" Zoe interjects, leaning down. "Why can't they...just be different? You said it before - you didn't understand your mistakes until it was too late. Why can't we start a new tradition, one that is based on true understanding, one where...the forest...can be heard again?"
"I was going to kill you, Zoe...Zoe..."
"Zoe Sanders.” Zoe adds. “Well, in fourteen weeks, it's going to be..." Zoe pauses, the words held back in her throat. "Well, for now, it's Zoe Sanders. I have my own questions on the traditions I will choose to follow. But, if there’s one thing I DO understand, is the feeling like you have to follow a tradition, even if it doesn’t make sense anymore."
Zoe leans over Puma's body and gives her a hug.
“I forgive you for trying to do the right thing by your people…” Zoe says, as she looks over at you and Puma. “…it’s something I know a little about. I also promise to not forget who you really are – the fearless badass who taught this innocent girl what it’s like to stand your ground and fight for what you believe in.”
Puma grins as her hand slowly traces across her body and grips the Chanir that is still embedded in her belly, and grunts as she pulls it out. The blade drips with dark red blood as Puma's arm extends, quaking as she holds it out.
"My people do not believe in coincidences, Zoe Sanders. Take this and let the lessons of my people speak to you when they are needed most."
Zoe takes the Chanir as a tear runs down her face.
“…I promise to listen when they send me a message. Thank you.”
Puma nods softly and turns to you, taking off an earring and placing it in your palm.
"For being such a fine warrior. May it remind you that time is always the most critical variable in combat."
You nod as you clip the earring to your right ear.
It would appear I also have an apology to make..." Puma continues.
"That's not necessary." you say.
"…I was wrong about what I said before..." Puma continues. "I said that your desire to be eaten is your greatest weakness. But, in reality, it is your greatest strength. Your lust to be consumed, coupled with your resilience to remain, is what gives you power. It provides the necessary pull you need to stay grounded as you push forward to accomplish things that no woman has ever achieved in the history of this world. It's your willingness to dance on the edge of the void, hearing the call but not answering, that makes you truly special, unique, and absolutely like no one else.
"Wear your desires with pride, Scarlett Sky, as they are not a curse, but a blessing. I do not share them, and I am lesser for it. "
You smile and nod, tears forming in your eyes.
“I’ve allowed my desire for this final moment to consume any other rational thought. I did not realize that I had stepped over the edge and that it had already become too late. And because of that, I now expire on a false premise.”
"Not false."
“It’s my last lesson to you. Embrace who you are. Don’t fight it. I fought who I had grown to be, and it destroyed me. It doesn’t have to destroy you."
“Puma, I feel like you’re trying to tell me something.”
Puma laughs as her eyes wander toward the campsite, and cookware, she had spent the last three days preparing.
“I know.” You say. “It will be just as you’ve always asked.”
Puma nods sleepily as her eyes wander past you.
“Oh, so you have come.”
You turn your head halfway to see who she is speaking to, but realize that the person will not be there, not to your vision. They have not come from you, after all.
"I realize that I am not proven myself worth-“
Puma’s voice suddenly stops, her listening intensely to a voice you cannot hear. A lump dances up and down her throat as tears suddenly stream down her face.
“Yes…I understand.” Puma whispers. “I am honored."
Puma’s eyes turn back to you as she extends her shaking forearm. As you grip her at the elbow, her hand grips yours, her palm cold and weak. You lean down to touch foreheads, holding each other in the tradition of her people, which has bound you together for half a decade.
A gust of wind rushes through your embrace, a cyclone of energy dancing around you. It is a force full of life, overflowing with the energy of her people.
And then, just as suddenly, the wind is gone, and the forest goes still, silent.
You do not have to look into Puma’s eyes to know she has gone.
“Go and find peace, Puma Catori of the Sleeping Willow Forest. I…”
You look over at Zoe, a single tear streaming down your face.
“WE will carry the traditions of your people forward, and make them anew.”
Zoe wraps her arm around you and gives you a hug.
“What do we do now, Scarlett? How do we honor her?”
Your eyes wander again to the preparations that were crafted for this exact moment.
"...we eat."
[[Advance to: Friday PM, late. ->DeepItem]]
[else]
Step by step, second by second, Puma gets closer. But you wait, your blade standing tall and true in front of you. You've listened to the message of the forest, and you'll have to continue fighting from underneath.
When she's close enough, she tries to knock your Chanir from your hand with one powerful slash, but you bring it back in front of you, limping backward. She jabs next, and you parry her strike. She breathes in and slices from multiple directions, with you deflecting, dodging, parrying, and dancing along with her, just as she said as this battle began: two equals locked in combat—only one outcome remaining.
Suddenly, she leaps, her body suspended in a second of finality, her positioning committed to one outcome.
Either she will kill you, or you will kill her.
There is no other outcome possible as she drives the icepick grip downward, thrusting her blade towards your heart.
You raise your aim high towards her stomach, splitting through and against the rays of the sun just as she dives on top of you.
Two blades, one outcome.
Puma falls on top of you, and you both tumble into the dirt, leaves launching off the ground and hovering around you as silence overtakes the moment.
The first breath that is heard is Zoe’s.
Slow, quiet, questioning breaths. The sound of uncertainty—the battle concluded.
Puma rolls off the top of you, with her Chanir implanted three inches into your shoulder.
You look over, and see your Chanir...
...is dug deeply into her chest.
"...the forest has spoken..." Puma says, her voice becoming weak.
************
As you find your feet, you grip Puma's Chanir, slowly pulling it from your shoulder. You turn and cut Zoe down, lowering her to the forest floor and severing her binds.
You then turn to look at Puma, as she stares off into a void, to a place that is beyond this world.
"I...understand now. While I am native to this land, you embody it. I am just a part of its history, destined to pass and return to my ancestors a failure."
"You're no failure, Puma." you say, kneeling down. "The best parts of me came from you."
“No...I am a fool. On the very day that the women of this land break the bonds of their traditions - I am broken by my own. I spent my life following the guidance of my ancestors, but somewhere along the way, I lost their meaning. I was unable to see beyond the binds of my desires. And now, my realization has come only in death."
“You’re no fool, Puma. Your beliefs never bound you - they allowed you to become more than anyone, even yourself, ever thought possible. Without you, I would never be who I am today. This country would never have been free without your guidance. I won’t discard the lessons you've instilled on me, and I know that your identity isn't bound to this moment. Who you truly are I will proudly carry within me, always.”
“Then you have finally come. The Q'lanar."
"...I've heard that name before."
"It's special among my people. It means 'one who walks many paths.' It's reserved for the one who will take us beyond this place."
"Beyond?"
"To be who we are meant to be. Not just warriors, or meat, or pawns in a larger world, but as a people. It's part of a tradition...one of many traditions that, after the events of today, will pass on into nothingness.
“Why do your traditions have to end?" Zoe interjects, leaning down. "Why can't they...just be different? You said it before - you didn't understand your mistakes until it was too late. Why can't we start a new tradition, one that is based on true understanding, one where...the forest...can be heard again?"
"I was going to kill you, Zoe...Zoe..."
"Zoe Sanders.” Zoe adds. “Well, in fourteen weeks, it's going to be..." Zoe pauses, the words held back in her throat. "Well, for now, it's Zoe Sanders. I have my own questions on the traditions I will choose to follow. But, if there’s one thing I DO understand, is the feeling like you have to follow a tradition, even if it doesn’t make sense anymore."
Zoe leans over Puma's body and gives her a hug.
“I forgive you for trying to do the right thing by your people…” Zoe says, as she looks over at you and Puma. “…it’s something I know a little about. I also promise to not forget who you really are – the fearless badass who taught this innocent girl what it’s like to stand your ground and fight for what you believe in.”
Puma grins as her hand slowly traces across her body and grips the Chanir that is still embedded in her belly, and grunts as she pulls it out. The blade drips with dark blood as Puma's arm extends, quaking as she holds it out.
"My people do not believe in coincidences, Zoe Sanders. Take this, and let the lessons of my people speak to you when they are needed most."
Zoe takes the Chanir as a tear runs down her face.
“…I promise to listen when they send me a message. Thank you.”
Puma nods softly and turns to you once more.
"It would appear I also have an apology to make..." Puma continues.
"That's not necessary." you say.
"…I was wrong about what I said before..." Puma continues. "I said that your desire to be eaten is your greatest weakness. But, in reality, it is your greatest strength. Your lust to be consumed, coupled with your resilience to remain, is what gives you power. It provides the necessary pull you need to stay grounded as you push forward to accomplish things that no woman has ever achieved in the history of this world. It's your willingness to dance on the edge of the void, hearing the call but not answering, that makes you truly special, unique, and absolutely like no one else.
"Wear your desires with pride, Scarlett Sky, as they are not a curse, but a blessing. I do not share them, and I am lesser for it. "
You smile and nod, tears forming in your eyes.
“I’ve allowed my desire for this final moment to consume any other rational thought. I did not realize that I had stepped over the edge and that it had already become too late. And because of that, I now expire on a false premise.”
"Not false."
“It’s my last lesson to you. Embrace who you are. Don’t fight it. I fought who I had grown to be, and it destroyed me. It doesn’t have to destroy you."
“Puma, I feel like you’re trying to tell me something.”
Puma laughs as her eyes wander toward the campsite, and cookware, she had spent the last three days preparing.
“I know.” You say. “It will be just as you’ve always asked.”
Puma nods sleepily as her eyes wander past you.
“Oh, so you have come.”
You turn your head halfway to see who she is speaking to, but realize that the person will not be there, not to your vision. They have not come from you, after all.
"I realize that I am not proven myself worth-“
Puma’s voice suddenly stops, her listening intensely to a voice you cannot hear. A lump dances up and down her throat as tears suddenly stream down her face.
“Yes…I understand.” Puma whispers. “I am honored."
Puma’s eyes turn back to you as she extends her shaking forearm. As you grip her at the elbow, her hand grips yours, her palm cold and weak. You lean down to touch foreheads, holding each other in the tradition of her people, which has bound you together for half a decade.
A gust of wind rushes through your embrace, a cyclone of energy dancing around you. It is a force full of life, overflowing with the energy of her people.
And then, just as suddenly, the wind is gone, and the forest goes still, silent.
You do not have to look into Puma’s eyes to know she has gone.
“Go and find peace, Puma Catori of the Sleeping Willow Forest. I…”
You look over at Zoe, a single tear streaming down your face.
“WE will carry the traditions of your people forward, and make them anew.”
Zoe wraps her arm around you and gives you a hug.
“What do we do now, Scarlett? How do we honor her?”
Your eyes wander again to the preparations that were crafted for this exact moment.
"...we eat."
[[Advance to: Friday PM, late. ->Deep thoughts]]--visitedDeathB: true
--
Fuck I'm eaten!
[[TestSecond]]Oh gosh I'm dinner!
[[TestThird]]gurgle gurgle stew
[[TestFour]]"I... can't take this deal. I'm sorry," you say to Zoe, not to the Baron. "I won't trade the lives of one group of innocent women for another."
Zoe smiles as her lip quivers, and nods.
"Innocent?!" the Baron yells. "I'll have you know that..."
He trails off and uses his handkerchief to dry the sweat from his forehead before handing it to an aide.
"It's no matter. Sooner or later, I will find these women. Your help would have sped up the process, but it will not stop the inevitable. They will be subjugated. Speaking of..."
He stands up and gestures with a hand as his two assistants grab Zoe by the shoulders. She's lifted to her feet and marched toward the exit of the dining hall.
"...I found this one wandering outside just after the horn tonight. Do you know what that means?"
"It means you grabbed me and tied me up," Zoe says as she struggles to break free. "AGAINST MY WILL. I totally said no. I have rights, you know."
"No, you don't," you say, a bitterness in your voice. "You're property now. That's the law here."
"But... my husband always tells me I'm going to be HIS property after I'm married, not someone else's?!" Zoe replies fearfully.
You follow alongside as Zoe is walked out of the dining hall and toward the valet door of the hotel, the Baron's limo waiting. One of the aides hands you a business card, and you stuff it into your pocket, trying to stay close to Zoe.
"It's okay, Zoe. I'm going to find some way to get you out of this. I promise."
"Maybe you shouldn't..." Zoe says as tears form in her eyes.
"What do you mean, shouldn't?" you snap back, the shock apparent in your voice.
"I... didn't try to save you, you know? When you were in the grocery store, I totally had the $300 I needed to buy you, but I called my fiancé first to ask permission, you know? I wasn't raised to make big decisions by myself..."
"Zoe..."
Kyle smiles as he opens the door to the street, smacking gum loudly in his mouth as he looks you up and down.
"...maybe I should've, like, you know, thought with my heart? I guess it's too late for that now. I'm going to be eaten, like, FOR SURE, but it's not all so bad."
"It's looking pretty bad, Zoe. Do you understand what's happened?" you say, just as you stop at the doorway, realizing that you can't legally step outside without quickly becoming someone's—probably Kyle's—dinner.
"What's happened is I'm proud of you, Claire. No, your name is..."
"Scarlett.” You add on. “But, why are you proud of me? I just sentenced you to death."
You watch as the Limo door is opened and the Baron enters first.
"Yeah, but you LISTENED to what I said Monday - you wouldn't trade my life for someone else's..."
Zoe is stuffed into the back of the limo.
"...I guess I'm not used to anyone taking me seriously. It feels really nice, so thank you for that, but this is goodb-"
The limo door slams shut, and you follow it with your feet, alongside the glass inside the hotel, as it pulls away and disappears down the street.
***********************************************************************
You feel exhaustion set in as you stare defeatedly at the landline hotel phone. You reach into your pocket and feel the Baron’s business card—you can still change your mind. But you also still remember the number to reach Phoenix, and maybe it’s time to call in that favor for help.
[[Call Baron Louis Bouvier and tell him you've changed your mind. ->Ending Letter C, 2]]
[[Call Phoenix's hotline and ask for help in rescuing Zoe. ->Dial]]"Dinner is served, husband."
Dee presents your fully roasted torso on the table surrounded by a banquet of mashed potatoes, a vegetable medley, and a large salad. Her fresh made bread served with freshly churned butter. Completes the table, as for husband, casually sits down and examines the spread .
Well, I wasn't too hungry but I can't turn down a plate of this delicious looking bird .
Dee smiles obediently and fixes a plate of your breast along with the helping of sides .
Her hands fiddle in her apron pocket as she keeps sneaking an eye to the first wife mounted over the table just above them .
"You know, I was thinking, maybe we could get out of town this weekend? We could leave early. Maybe Thursday. Go to a nice resort spa
"No, I was thinking of staying at home on Friday. Actually, I have some very special plans for Friday that I'm going to share with you very soon"
Dee's eyes lower as she audibly golfs. Gulps.
Oh. Well, I'm sure whatever you decide you'll know. Best .
Men always do, sweetheart. That's why we're in charge, and, well, he says taking a bite of your flesh as he stares his soon to be mounted wife in the eyes
And that's why women are meat, just like you will be, someday, soon .
D. Discards one tier from her eye, not sure if her husband didn't see it or simply didn't care.
There's something I wanted to show you you know before before Friday. It's something I'm very proud of .
You have shown me D. You've shown me how good of a wife you've been the entire time we've been married. I couldn't have picked a better woman to make mine forever .
So you want to take that trip ?
No no, like I just said, I want to keep you forever. At least, part of you. Because the rest of you I plan a roast on dulcet day. That way you don't have to worry about ever going old or getting spoiled or being ruined. You can be harvested at your prime. Enjoy my first wife on my wall as a proper trophy .
I understand. I'll do what I'm told
***********
“Now dear, please don’t fret too much about what got into her. She actually turned out VERY good – her flavor mixed perfectly with her little friend.”
The new wife kissed him on the cheek and knelt down, unzipping his pants and taking his cock into his mouth.
The husband scooped out a portion of both your meat, and Dee’s meat, and slid it into his mouth. He nodded and groaned with pleasure as he felt his cock hit the back of his new wife’s throat. His gaze stared deeply into Dee’s dead, defeated eyes.
“You hear that, babe? You actually turned out pretty delicious. I definitely won’t forget you, well, this meal, that is.” He says with a chuckle.
*****I remember when my parents came and talked to me about the birds in the bees.
When I saw the blood between my legs for the first time, I thought I was too young to die. I had been told from such a young age that women weren't due to be harvested until they were well over 18, and yet, at the age 11, I stood in the bathroom and wonder. I wondered the same things that I'd questioned my entire life.
Where my second mother came in to explain, I cried. I was never like the other girls, but I was good at pretending.
***********************
" And it was in that moment, where I'd reached an age where I was told that the only destiny I should have is to choose the instrument of my own destruction, I decided to play a very different tune. I decided that I would never give up the part of me that learned to smile and love. Because deep down, beyond our responsibilities and our obligations and what we're told to do, the part of us that is truly indestructible is the will to dig deep into the soul and share it with the world because that is where the unmistakable power of the human condition truly exists."
****************************
I had planned to write a lot more, but it appears my story is going to have a rather abrupt ending. I was frustrated at first, as I had so much more to say. But, there's probably no better ending to my musings on what it's like to be a woman in this world than to have my life cut short in just a few days.
Cut short of course being apropos. As I brought in the mail today, I saw a package that spooked me so deeply that I didn't move for several minutes. It was from a company called late preserve. We all know what they do, and we all know what they mean.
It turns out, the person that I love the most, trusted the most, and would give anything for has already decided and, and probably decided long ago, that I was going to die. I wasn't consulted or any conversation was made with me, as it was never my place to be involved in that type of decision making. That isn't what women are allowed to do here, despite everything I talked about and everything I've tried to accomplish by writing this book.
By Friday, I'll have" volunteered" to be cooked alive in an oven and served to my husband, his family, and likely my replacement will be at the table, dining on my flesh. Part of me always knew this would happen, despite all of my optimism and all of my belief that things could really be different for me. On the other hand, I'm still so disappointed. I feel like I had so much to do and so much more to say
I just hope that I'm not erased. I hope that this book can fall into someone's hands by some stroke of locking bird about picking out our own sites from the grocery store, but can focus instead on what she's capable of and what she can contribute to the world. I know it's too late for me in that regard, but it's not too late for whoever comes after me.
Wow the irony!
I just checked my word count and I'm the same length as
Well
We can all dream. Never stop dreaming.
Dee Elizabeth White
*******************
Sometimes, the first time you're told something isn't the same as the first time you understand something.
That's the best way for me to tell you who I am. I think it's an experience that we all share, as women as a part of this country, that at a very young age, its impressed upon us that we one day will be will be food.
I remember being 3 years old and my favorite toy was a playset where you could fold the wife up and stick her in an oven. I was five when I first asked my mom when they were going to eat me. She laughed, and told me that I had an entire life to live. That I could grow up to be anything I wanted.
She was the last person to ever tell me that. My dad roasted her for a dull set day barbecue he had when I was six.
That was the day that I went from being told something to understanding something. I remember the look on her face when she told me that this was what she wanted. That her sacrifice to nourish our family was her decision. That it was an honor to serve in a long tradition.
To hear something isn't to understand it. To see words not match up with emotion is to understand it.
My mother was a brave woman. She didn't flinch or scream out as she was cooked alive. I remember as she tried to look brave and she spun on the spit that had been shoved through her body as the grease that soaked her dripped off.
I decided to honor her that one day I would be different.**A Woman’s Quest for Meaning – and not just Meat-ing**
**By Dee Elizabeth White**
*Why can’t a woman be something more?*
I still remember my first climax. I didn’t realize it then, as it went off like a gunshot, but it started the sand that poured down the hourglass of my life. In Dolcett, for women, it’s engrained in us, through nature or nurture, that the finality of our existence is a climax in every sense of the word.
The day started off innocently enough. I was outside playing a game of tag—the boys versus the girls—on a hot summer day. It all felt so innocent, just like the rest of my life before that moment, until I felt myself overwhelmed by a heat inside me that water could not cool. I felt every touch from every boy linger on my skin just a little longer, and when one of them shoved me to the ground and lay on top of me, I didn’t want him to get off.
I wanted him to stay on me. No, go inside of me. No, not just that.
I wanted to be inside of him. Digesting.
As I came back into the house, I went into the basement and laid face down on an old couch. I began to grind my hips onto the hard leather, not even realizing what I was doing. I found a pressure that felt just right, and then, my mind wandered to a place I didn’t expect.
Not to the hunky boys that just pinned me down, or what they had in their pants that was different than mine.
No, it wandered to a story that I had read in elementary school.
Three little pigs were being hunted by a big bad wolf. The wolf was intent on blowing their house down, shattering the foundation of identity they had constructed around themselves, and consumed them for what they really were – eager, willing flesh. I started to see myself as one of the pigs, and I started to see that I wouldn’t get away—that the wolf would capture and sink his teeth into me.
I came quietly to the thought of being eaten, just like so many women I had seen consumed throughout my life. I had no idea what had happened, but as I looked down at the wet stain I'd left on the fabric, I realized that I had reached womanhood. That there would be no going back to the innocence of tag and hot summer nights, that now I would someday soon be on the menu.
I rushed to talk to my mom, and she provided me some comfort. That I wasn’t old enough, that there was still time to be free, and I had nothing AT ALL to be afraid of. And yet, for the first time in my life, I saw that her face did not match her words, and I knew that she being dishonest with me. Despite knowing that she had said these things to protect me, I grew distant over the six months that followed.
There's a guilt that comes along with being a woman in this world that isn't often talked about. We normalize the consumption of our friends, family members, co-workers, and even women that we think are beneath us because they were born as livestock. We never sit down and think about how it makes us FEEL to eat another person—a person with dreams, hopes, and a unique potential to make the world a better place.
I think deep down, we all have moments of regret when we blame ourselves after someone we love is served on a platter. Mine was my mother.
On a late December evening, my dad asked if I would help load my mother onto the cart that would wheel her into the oven. I still remember the look of desperation in her eyes as she assured me that this was what she always wanted. That it was an honor to serve our family on such a joyous holiday, and that she was grateful to be the centerpiece and roast that would be remembered forever.
And yet, again, I saw the same betrayal in her eyes as I had six months before. But this time, she didn’t just say it to try to soothe my sorrow—she was saying it to convince herself, her body ripe with consternation, that despite her own words, she knew she could have been something more if only given the chance. I made a vow to myself that day that I would carry her dreams inside of me, and I would never lose sight of my own goal to be more than this world allowed me to be.
I would be something that would change this world for all women—to validate that her existence wasn’t erased the moment her body expired in the oven.
But over the years, I struggled with the guilt of that moment. The guilt we don’t talk about in Dolcett. Even as I write this passage, I wonder to myself—if I hadn't been so distant from my mother during her final months, would my father still have chosen to replace her? Would she have gotten to live another year? Two? Would she still be here today?
I still blame myself. Don’t we all? I saw how my father’s expression changed as the months went on, the way he looked at her turning from love to lust. But lust is not a simple feeling in a place like Dolcett, as his feelings for my mother overheated from hot dates on the town to a hot date in a roasting pan. He began to convince himself that she would be best served as a future entrée, and he allowed his heart to wander to the next woman who would take her place.
I kept my nose in the books after that fateful holiday, and I tried to do whatever I could to put myself in a position where I could be seen for my gifts instead of my body had to offer. I didn't go to any parties. I stayed away from making friends, hearing all about the dares and the mistakes, with some of my classmates suddenly no longer showing up to school.
I slipped away to exactly one party when I had just turned eighteen. By then, my masturbation had become daily, my urges insatiable. I had to ask myself - was I born this way? Was it always a part of my DNA that I would be attracted to the fetish of being cooked and served for another? Or was it nurture over nature, the saturation of existing in a place where I felt cornered in a box that would someday roar at 350°. It is another one of those questions that women never take the time to wonder - is my fate truly to be on a plate, or is it that a lifetime of conditioning results in a normalization of fetishizing one's own demise?
I remember sitting in a circle at that house party, feeling foolish as I realized that all of the times I had passed on events like this out of fear were simply exaggerated. People weren't running around trying to eat each other at every one of these parties like I'd always thought. Or, at times, dreamed.
It was just a simple game of Truth or Dare where things began to escalate.
First, it was kissing. Then, one of the girls was dared to allow her boyfriend to squeeze her throat as he stuck his fingers inside of her. I still remember when Katie volunteered for a spin-off of an American game called *Seven Minutes in Heaven*. But, the heaven she would experience would be in an oven, trying to see if she could climax before her time was up.
We all agreed to keep the temperature low enough that it would only singe her skin. We joked that it would be quicker than getting a tan and that she wouldn't have to wax, as her skin would singe off her body. I sipped a wine cooler and giggled, wondering—no, deciding—that I would be next. I would choose to take an even more dangerous dare: the temperature a little hotter, the time a little longer.
As I looked over at one of my friends and saw her rub herself as she watched Katie climb in the oven, I rubbed myself too. Was this what everyone here masturbates too? Does anyone feel the guilt after? Are we all doomed to a fate exactly like this, sooner or later, or was it possible for one of us to one day be something more?
Katie squirmed in the pan for two minutes, then three, then four. She began to scream loudly through the apple that had been jammed into her mouth and struggled against the bindings the man had eagerly tied around her to complete the look. She looked over, and I stopped jilling off for a moment when I saw the desperation in her eyes—the fear that the heat was too much and that she had begun to smell herself cooking alive.
Earlier, I talked about the times when we feel guilt and how we don’t talk about them. I’m writing this book because I think it’s time to start that conversation. Instead of helping Katie in that moment and realizing what was really about to happen to her, I plunged my fingers deeper, all the way so that every centimeter of my digits were deep into my soaking cunt.
Katie was not able to orgasm before her seven minutes were up. At that moment, I didn’t realize her outcome wouldn’t have been any different if she had. I simply stepped forward to offer myself in her place, lost in the lust of the moment, the rest of my identity laying on the floor as a heap of clothes I’d thrown off.
If you're reading this book, you already know that I didn’t replace Katie in that oven. When it was time for the oven door to creak open, the only sound that was heard was a kitchen knife scraping against a sharpener. I turned and watched as the men high fived and prepared the blade that would slice Katie open and rip anything she’d accomplished into nothingness – converting her existence into meat.
I didn't orgasm to Katie's death. One of her best friends did, screaming out as Katie’s squirming intensified, the panic and pain in her eyes overwhelming her senses. I withdrew my fingers and continued to play along. I even considered doing something, but I didn't.
It comes back to that feeling of guilt we all share, and that basic question – are we born this way? Or are we a product of our environment? Is it some type of combination of the two that binds us to this fate? Are their shears somewhere in the world of Dolcett where all of us can one day be free?
Katie did slide out of the oven before the heat had completely converted her to a roast. She squirmed weakly as she was led over to a large kitchen island and the men steadied her as the blade was pressd into her sternum. I was the last person she looked at, and as the blade began to tear down her abdomen, sealing her fate as the night's dinner, it was into my eye that she looked.
The only thing I said was thank you. If she had not taken the dare, I would have. If she was not roasting in that oven, I would be the one having my guts torn out right now. It was a singular moment of realization that the normalization of my own desires created a world where women like me, like Katie, were always mistake away from what them so unique on the inside being thrown away like trash. I looked down at Katie's stomach as it hit the garbage bag and mine turned. I didn't want my story to end like this, and I committed myself, and to her, that I would be something more.
And it was in that moment, when I had reached an age where I was told that the only true choice I’d ever have was to choose the instrument of my own destruction, that I decided to dance to a very different tune. I decided that I would never give up the part of me that had learned to smile and love. Because deep down, beyond our responsibilities, our obligations, and what we are told to do, the part of us that is truly indestructible is the will to dig deep into our souls and share that with the world, because that is where the unmistakable power of the human condition truly exists.
I had worked so hard over the years to be one of the very few women in Dolcett who were allowed to go to college. I was told that a women’s education was merely ceremonial, and that only the rich and powerful women were really allowed to go, but I persisted. I graduated as valedictorian of the women’s class, but I was still behind every man, regardless of how little effort they put in. Still, I applied to every college in the country, and the ones that bothered to respond were brief, cold, and at times abusive.
I was accused of wasting their time, of disrupting a natural order that had existed for generations before my birth. They told me that the proper response to such an outlandish request was for me to submit myself immediately for inspection and slaughter to the Dean’s office, where I might learn my place in my final seconds—and served as an apology meal for the offense of simply trying to be myself.
My heart sank as I realized that there would be no way for the REAL me to ever be heard. Despite how hard I'd worked and how deeply I had thought about the nature of existence, mine would ultimately be decided by another. I thought about volunteering my slaughter on that day, in an especially masochistic moment when my urges to be consumed nearly overcame me.
I stood in the voluntary line at a local grocery store, and just as I was about to be called next, I saw a man walk by me, inspecting the meat counter for his dinner. When he looked over at me and smiled, I felt something I hadn’t ever felt from a man.
It wasn’t lust, for once. It was love.
As I do the final revisions that I'll ever do on this book, I question the magic of that moment. Was he looking at me because it was love at first sight, like I'd always thought? Or was he deciding that, once they had slaughtered me in a few minutes, he'd hang around to collect one of my steaks from the display for that night's dinner?
The facts of what happened next are not in dispute. I stood up from the volunteer chair, walked over to him, and offered myself freely, unconditionally. In the five paces it took for me to go from volunteer to property, I had decided that the only way I could continue to be myself was under a man's care.
I had NEVER allowed myself to even think of marriage as a way of safety, as the ritual was so engrained in a woman’s surrender of her own control. But, with no options left and my destiny seemingly hanging in the balance, I offered mine to him. Boy meets girl. Girl falls in love. A tale as old as time.
Haven’t we all been there, at least once? The feeling of being one person for 18 years and being swept off your feet into something entirely different in the span of just a few seconds? I needed to be enraptured in that moment, and I chose to be enraptured by him.
It could have gone a thousand ways. What happened next still, to this day, gives me butterflies: the warmth of his smile, the genuineness of his words, the way he first touched my hips, giving them just the slightest squeeze.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he said.
He took me by the hand and led me out of the grocery store. I squeezed his palm against mine, and pushed literally every doubt of my mind. I danced through a whirlwind of a weekend, from our first date, to a steamy night of romance, and then, finally, our wedding day.
Can you IMAGINE that women around the world have SUCH a long courtship? Three days might have been three years with Case. My goodness.
And now, ironically, I have those same three days left.
As I moved into his home that Monday, and saw HER head mounted in his den, I believed everything he told me: that she had become cold, short, and ungrateful. I vowed to myself in that moment that I would be the PERFECT wife—that I would spend every day in complete and utter devotion to my new husband and that my entire existence would be devoted to a woman’s purpose - making sure his balls were empty and his belly was full.
If I did this, I told myself, the real me could go on. And then, one day, when the time was right, and conditions had changed, she could finally come out and be heard.
I took pride in the fact that I could bring my intellect and drive of valedictorian to being the ideal homemaker. I enthralled guests with my charm every time I played hostess. I challenged myself every time I learned a new recipe. I accepted correction and punishment gracefully when Case put me over his knee after I had stepped out of line, even when he was wrong.
Especially when he was wrong, actually. Those punishments seemed to get me off even more, again bringing me back to that basic question: Was it love, or was it lust? Is it nature, or is it nurture? Was I always meant to be this way, or was it ever possible that I could have been something more?
My life was simple, blissful, and quiet. I had achieved a level of security and comfort that I never had growing up, and I never suspected that Case would ever decide to eat me, even as friends my age disappeared one by one, slowly replaced by younger women. I rationalized to myself that they had decided to give in to their lust, but we were different.
The foundation of our relationship was pure, unrelenting love.
Still, there was just one part of myself that ached to get out. It comes back to that question of guilt, that I’d like to talk about one final time. It wasn’t the guilt of being distant this time, or not taking a stand, it was the guilt I had for being so silent. I was TIRED of waiting for someone to speak up about the conditions of women in this world, and I could feel my true self, the child who ran in the hot summer night, full of dreams, slipping away into memory.
Speaking of memories, I’ll never forget that when I was in first grade, I wrote my first story. It was a simple tale about a woman going around town helping her friends, family, and even complete strangers who had suffered small, silly inconveniences. The main character, Dee The Do-Gooder, helped patch up a shirt, repaired an overheating engine, soothed an old lady as she wept, and even helped a man carry some wood from the market to his home for a barbecue.
As I showed it to my teacher, beaming with proud, I still remember the sound of the paper tearing when she ripped it in half.
It was just another one of those moments that we can all relate to—a moment of vulnerability where we are willing to expose our true selves to another, someone we’ve given our complete trust, only to be met with a gut punch of trauma that still aches to this day.
She told me that women were not creators in Dolcett and that if she ever caught me writing again, she’d break my hand. “A broken hand can still stir a pot,” I remember her saying. She implored me that a woman’s role was to serve, submit, and follow the guidance of men; that creativity was reserved for the opposite gender; and that it was best that I stop now before I began to develop a reputation that would result in a swift end of my life the minute I turned eighteen.
I didn’t throw away Dee The Doo-Gooder. I’m sure you can remember times where you’re glad you kept something from your childhood, too, that remind you of who you REALLY are – before nurture wins the battle over nature. As I sat in my perfect home, married into the perfect life, I held the taped up copy of my story in my hands and I wept.
Every tear seemed like an admission that the person who wrote this story was lost, forever.
But then, something curious happened. My tears stopped, and I picked up a pen.
My hand trembled as I wrote my first words:
**Why can’t a woman be something more?**
I stared at those words for hours before I picked up the pen again, and then the words flew out of me like a fountain. I felt that if I could tell my story, the story that we’ve all shared, maybe we could all realize that one day, ALL of us could be something more than even the best-case scenario for a woman here —an obedient, well-kept trophy on display for a man until HE decides to replace you with a younger model.
That’s the thing about Dolcett – the person playing the role changes, but the person who is lost is erased from history forever. And I decided on that day that I was given the most fortunate gift any person can ever receive – the realization of their unique gift to share with the world.
Dee the Do-Gooder would rise again.
I only wished that I had started this story sooner, and that I had made a plan to get it out somehow, in the event that the worst happened to me. But like many women in Dolcett, and even like my mother before me, I never saw it coming. It wasn’t until I saw the package this morning that my entire world was shaken.
No, I realized, my entire life was over. Just like that.
It turns out that the person I loved the most, trusted the most, and would give anything for had already decided—and probably decided long ago—that I was going to die. I wasn't consulted in the decision that my life was going to end, as I live in a society where it’s not even proper to involve the departed in that type of decision-making. That isn't what women are allowed to do here, despite everything I've talked about and everything I've tried to accomplish by writing this book.
As I stood with the box in my hands, I ached in two different places: somewhere deep in my chest, from the betrayal of the one I loved the most; and somewhere deep within my pussy, from the aching that has been instilled in me since the day I came of age.
Is it nature versus nurture?
Is it my fault that I agreed so eagerly every time it was brought up, that one day my time on a platter would come?
Is it frustration that I thought my love for him, and his love for me, would overcome all of this?
At the end of the day...
...there are two emotions that cause human beings to act so irrationally that they can cease to be themselves.
One is love.
The other is lust.
Even writing it now, it makes me a little wet. I'm really ashamed to say that, as I truly believe that I'm something more. But maybe that's the conflict that all of us who live here share—that despite feeling and knowing that we really are something more than a meal, we still crave the demise that is placed upon us. That we cannot fight through our desires long enough to rise up and be something more. Is it nature, or is it nurture? Is it conditioning, or is it ingrained?
Was Case's feeling for me ever really love, or was it always lust?
I guess I won't be around to see how the story ends. I'm going to volunteer because there isn't any other way for a woman in this world to express herself. It's not so bad—I've had a good life. I've been well taken care of, I've lived comfortably, and I've even had the chance to write.
And despite all of that, despite all of my education, my perseverance, and my convictions to change this world, it’ll end the same for me as it has for everyone else.
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
That’s what I’d wished I’d said to you as Dad closed the oven door on you. Sorry for the world we were both born into, sorry that I wasn’t able to do anything to change it.
The only thing that will ever be left of me once I’m consumed will be this book. I haven’t decided how I’m going to get it out there—but hey—if you’re reading this, you’re not alone.
Do something. Say something. Talk to someone. It’s through our shared efforts that anything is possible.
If that is my only role in all this, then maybe love will have won over lust for me, after all. That my nature could’ve conquered the conditioning that was placed upon me from the day I was born.
That a woman, like YOU, can truly be something more.
With all my heart,
"Dee the Do-Gooder"
*****
[[Return to Credits. ->Credits]]hasPuma:false
--
Long after the battle has ended, your engagement in the Sleeping Willow forest continues.
You adjust the pressure cooker’s tightness just as it begins to scream. You stoke the fire in the fireplace, the wrapped foil cooking the meat inside. You take one spoonful of drippings and pour it over the flame-seared prime rib.
“I don’t understand. She said she didn’t share your cravings, and yet this is all very elaborate.”
“Puma was rather specific about what she wanted in this moment. She didn’t lust for it in a sexual ways, hers was more primal—purely for the ritual of conquering and consuming another. That’s the tradition she believed in, the one we are now a part of—that when we consume her—her essence, her strength—the best of who she was is carried with us. It’s less about eating her and more about honoring her.”
“Forgive me for asking, but do we actually take a part of her with us?”
“It’s not about what we can prove, Zoe. It’s what we believe.”
“I like that, Scarlett,” Zoe says, her eyes transfixed by the flames around the campfire. “But you killed your friend. How could one life… how could MY life be worth more than hers? How can any life be worth more than another?”
“I struggle with that a lot, too,” you say as Puma’s flavors cause your stomach to growl, as you haven’t eaten in two days. “I’ve been in charge of that type of decision-making for the last five years. I don’t know what has weighed heavier on me—the ones that I rejected and sent home to live, or the ones I stamped to die. All I know for sure is that I just don’t think my soul could have withstood losing someone innocent. Puma was willing to fight and die for what she believed in—right or wrong—and that part of her I will carry with me to the bitter end.”
“And what about you, Scarlett? Will you have to die fighting for what you believe in, too?”
A gust of wind blows through the campground just as you begin to set the table. The light in your eyes begins to dim as the sun sets, signifying the end of the act, and perhaps more.
“Time will tell. I have a feeling that even through all of this, Puma was still trying to protect me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t exactly know yet. But I have a feeling she was trying to tell me something, something I’m going to find out very soon, one way or another.”
You unwrap the foil and begin to carve slices of medium-rare flesh off of a roast made of Puma’s signature quads. You open the pressure cooker and set some of Puma’s bones, her marrow, tendons, and essence to soak in a bowl. You carve the prime rib and keep it moist, flavorful, and immaculate as you finish making Zoe’s plate.
Zoe’s eyes dart back and forth as she starts to shake before she suddenly steadies herself and looks directly at you.
“...Scarlett, I have something I need to share with you. I’m afraid if I don’t tell you, I won’t ever tell anyone.”
“Go on.”
“Well... when I got caught a few of these times, especially toward the end... I was starting to feel like...”
“It’s okay. I understand,” you say comfortingly.
No I DON’T think you do. I started to get, like, turned on? Why would that happen? Has that ever happened to you?"
"...yes."
"What do you do about it?"
"...I masturbate to it."
"You do WHAT??" Zoe exclaims.
"I masturbate to it. But only in a safe place, and only when I'm in control. That's the only way I can live with it and still be alive."
"I'm not sure that I want to deal with all that. I'd rather just go back to who I was." Zoe says.
"If you figure out a way to do that, Zoe, you've got to let me know," you say with a smirk, shaking your head. "I really hope that you can go back to a normal life with your husband, have kids, and forget all about this place and the way it’s made you feel. I can’t promise you that you can, and honestly, you shouldn’t make that promise to yourself - it’ll just make the urge stronger. The best you can do is make time for it. Honor it. Enjoy it. I just try to keep it separate from the rest of my life, lest it become the end of yours, and you spend your last moments in a roasting pan."
You let out a soft sigh as your eyes wander into the dancing flame just ahead.
"...you don't have to roast, Scarlett." Zoe comforts.
You look down at the plate in front of you. As the last glimmer of sunlight presses past the horizon, you see your own reflection glimmering back in the juices resting just over Puma’s prime rib.
“No, seriously, why do you have to do everything?” Zoe pleads. “No offense, but you could use a vacation—just to be yourself. Not the head of SkyCorp or the woman who just changed the world, but simply a person who has feelings, emotions, and even a need for companionship and love.”
You chuckle to yourself for a moment.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’d like that. It’s been a hell of a week—I’ve been cooked alive, fought for my life with my bare heads, and even had to kill my own mentor...”
You take a deep breath and shake your head.
“...but I don't know if I can experience love, anymore, having a job that is so saturated in death. It's an emotion I've put aside for so long to walk the path I've chosen. Don't get me wrong - I always wanted to have a purpose, and I’m so glad it found me. But purpose can be like an anchor, weighing you down to your destiny until there’s nothing left of you—either through your consumption or your own destruction.”
You take a breath as you pick up your fork and knife and cut a piece of Puma’s flesh. As you raise it to your lips and slip it into your mouth, you close your eyes, shutting out all other senses but taste. Your body shakes as her strength flows through you, rebuilding you into something more powerful than you were before.
“I honor you, Puma Catori,” you whisper.
Zoe’s hand quivers as she cuts a slice of prime rib and hovers it in front of her lips.
“I honor you, too. I will take your teachings with me, and I promise to always keep my ears opening for the song of the Sleeping Willow.”
She slides Puma’s flesh into her mouth, and her eyes light up as she holds a hand to her lips.
“Um, is it wrong to say she’s delicious?” Zoe asks.
“No,” you say with a laugh. “She wouldn’t have had it any other way.”
“Okay, good. Because this is the best meal I’ve had in forever. I’ll never, ever forget it. Or her.”
“Good,” you say. “Me either.”
“…I don’t think he was right, by the way,” Zoe says.
“Who are you talking about?”
“Leikr. What he was saying before…”
You pretend to stare back off into the forest.
“About you being alone. You can let someone in, Scarlett. Maybe I’m not the person for that, but they’ve got to be out there if you just look.”
“Then I’ll be looking. I promise.” And…”
You pause for a second as you shake your head, processing Zoe's words and the significance of this moment.
“…it's funny. I came here to save you. But, maybe we've helped save each other."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Saturday AM ->Jenna test]]hasPuma:true
--
Long after the battle has ended, your engagement in the Sleeping Willow forest continues.
You adjust the pressure cooker’s tightness just as it begins to scream. You stoke the fire in the fireplace, the wrapped foil cooking the meat inside. You take one spoonful of drippings and pour it over the flame-seared prime rib.
“I don’t understand. She said she didn’t share your cravings, and yet this is all very elaborate.”
“Puma was rather specific about what she wanted in this moment. She didn’t lust for it in a sexual ways, hers was more primal—purely for the ritual of conquering and consuming another. That’s the tradition she believed in, the one we are now a part of—that when we consume her—her essence, her strength—the best of who she was is carried with us. It’s less about eating her and more about honoring her.”
“Forgive me for asking, but do we actually take a part of her with us?”
“It’s not about what we can prove, Zoe. It’s what we believe.”
“I like that, Scarlett,” Zoe says, her eyes transfixed by the flames around the campfire. “But you killed your friend. How could one life… how could MY life be worth more than hers? How can any life be worth more than another?”
“I struggle with that a lot, too,” you say as Puma’s flavors cause your stomach to growl, as you haven’t eaten in two days. “I’ve been in charge of that type of decision-making for the last five years. I don’t know what has weighed heavier on me—the ones that I rejected and sent home to live, or the ones I stamped to die. All I know for sure is that I just don’t think my soul could have withstood losing someone innocent. Puma was willing to fight and die for what she believed in—right or wrong—and that part of her I will carry with me to the bitter end.”
“And what about you, Scarlett? Will you have to die fighting for what you believe in, too?”
A gust of wind blows through the campground just as you begin to set the table. The light in your eyes begins to dim as the sun sets, signifying the end of the act, and perhaps more.
“Time will tell. I have a feeling that even through all of this, Puma was still trying to protect me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t exactly know yet. But I have a feeling she was trying to tell me something, something I’m going to find out very soon, one way or another.”
You unwrap the foil and begin to carve slices of medium-rare flesh off of a roast made of Puma’s signature quads. You open the pressure cooker and set some of Puma’s bones, her marrow, tendons, and essence to soak in a bowl. You carve the prime rib and keep it moist, flavorful, and immaculate as you finish making Zoe’s plate.
Zoe’s eyes dart back and forth as she starts to shake before she suddenly steadies herself and looks directly at you.
“...Scarlett, I have something I need to share with you. I’m afraid if I don’t tell you, I won’t ever tell anyone.”
“Go on.”
“Well... when I got caught a few of these times, especially toward the end... I was starting to feel like...”
“It’s okay. I understand,” you say comfortingly.
No I DON’T think you do. I started to get, like, turned on? Why would that happen? Has that ever happened to you?"
"...yes."
"What do you do about it?"
"...I masturbate to it."
"You do WHAT??" Zoe exclaims.
"I masturbate to it. But only in a safe place, and only when I'm in control. That's the only way I can live with it and still be alive."
"I'm not sure that I want to deal with all that. I'd rather just go back to who I was." Zoe says.
"If you figure out a way to do that, Zoe, you've got to let me know," you say with a smirk, shaking your head. "I really hope that you can go back to a normal life with your husband, have kids, and forget all about this place and the way it’s made you feel. I can’t promise you that you can, and honestly, you shouldn’t make that promise to yourself - it’ll just make the urge stronger. The best you can do is make time for it. Honor it. Enjoy it. I just try to keep it separate from the rest of my life, lest it become the end of yours, and you spend your last moments in a roasting pan."
You let out a soft sigh as your eyes wander into the dancing flame just ahead.
"...you don't have to roast, Scarlett." Zoe comforts.
You look down at the plate in front of you. As the last glimmer of sunlight presses past the horizon, you see your own reflection glimmering back in the juices resting just over Puma’s prime rib.
“No, seriously, why do you have to do everything?” Zoe pleads. “No offense, but you could use a vacation—just to be yourself. Not the head of SkyCorp or the woman who just changed the world, but simply a person who has feelings, emotions, and even a need for companionship and love.”
You chuckle to yourself for a moment.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’d like that. It’s been a hell of a week—I’ve been cooked alive, fought for my life with my bare heads, and even had to kill my own mentor...”
You take a deep breath and shake your head.
“...but I don't know if I can experience love having a job that is saturated in death. It's an emotion I've put aside for so long to walk the path I've chosen. Don't get me wrong - I always wanted to have a purpose, and I’m so glad it found me. But purpose can be like an anchor, weighing you down to your destiny until there’s nothing left of you—either through your consumption or your own destruction.”
You take a breath as you pick up your fork and knife and cut a piece of Puma’s flesh. As you raise it to your lips and slip it into your mouth, you close your eyes, shutting out all other senses but taste. Your body shakes as her strength flows through you, rebuilding you into something more powerful than you were before.
“I honor you, Puma Catori,” you whisper.
Zoe’s hand quivers as she cuts a slice of prime rib and hovers it in front of her lips.
“I honor you, too. I will take your teachings with me, and I promise to always keep my ears opening for the song of the Sleeping Willow.”
She slides Puma’s flesh into her mouth, and her eyes light up as she holds a hand to her lips.
“Um, is it wrong to say she’s delicious?” Zoe asks.
“No,” you say with a laugh. “She wouldn’t have had it any other way.”
“Okay, good. Because this is the best meal I’ve had in forever. I’ll never, ever forget it. Or her.”
“Good,” you say. “Me either.”
“…I don’t think he was right, by the way,” Zoe says.
“Who are you talking about?”
“Leikr. What he was saying before…”
You pretend to stare back off into the forest.
“About you being alone. You can let someone in, Scarlett. Maybe I’m not the person for that, but they’ve got to be out there if you just look.”
“Then I’ll be looking. I promise.” And…”
You pause for a second as you shake your head, processing Zoe's words and the significance of this moment.
“…it's funny. I came here to save you. But, maybe we've helped save each other."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Saturday AM ->Jenna test]]As you sit down on your bed, you feel your body crave sleep. You haven't slept or eaten in the last 48 hours, and you nearly crash out before you find your feet.
"I said I wouldn't trade one innocent life for another. But that doesn't mean that I will give Zoe's life up, either."
You pick up your phone and rack your brain—can you really remember what you need to know?
"LFD, three times repeated, and one more L for good luck. She said that's the easy part. What was the hard part again?"
You dial 533-533-5335.
It doesn't make a dial tone, and you pick up the base to make sure it's connected to the wall. Just as you're about to hang up, a voice speaks.
"If you get caught up, and you're in trouble..."
[[You'll always be welcome here. ->Dial 2]]
[[You're on your own, good luck. ->Fail Password]]
[[Roast well, on the double. ->Fail Password]]
[[Push them back, burst their bubble.->Fail Password]]There is a pause on the other line, as you nervously spin the phone cord in your hand.
"We will always do whatever we can to help..."
[[To make each and every one of us whole.->Fail Password B]]
[[To make each and every one of us free.->Asher Car Ride]]
[[To make each and every one of us seen.->Fail Password B]]
[[To make each and every one of us roast.->Fail Password B]]"Listen. I'm not supposed to be here. My name is actually Scarlett Sky, and I am the CEO of SkyCorp in the United States. I'm sure you've heard of it."
"Am I supposed to be impressed?" her voice short. "My husband doesn't let me watch the news. So whoever you were isn't going to change who you're about to be," she says, looking over at the oven to see if it's ready.
"I'm an importer of volunteer women who want to come to Dolcett to live out their greatest fantasy. I've worked hard to change things in the U.S. so women can't be tricked, forced, or processed without their consent..."
You see Dee take a big gulp of wine as she appears frustrated.
You press on.
"...and I'd like to keep making life better for them. Please. I promise that if you let me go, I'll be out of the country by tomorrow and back at my desk—keeping women safe."
"Keeping WHAT women safe?" Dee yells at you.
"I... don't know what you mean," you say back, your fear growing as this is not going as you planned.
"So, you keep women in the United States from being tricked into being eaten, and I'm supposed to care? What about the women from here? Do we not matter?" Dee says, looking over at the den wall at the mounted head. "If you had it all well and good, why even come here?"
The oven preheat alarm BEEPS.
"I know. Just another rich CEO who wants to get off on the thrill of the danger of running around Dolcett. Were you planning to brag to your friends about how much of a risk-taker you are? Big adrenaline junkie? Well, I've got something for you."
You go to speak, but she shoves the apple back in your mouth. She wheels you to the oven door and opens it.
"Feeling the heat yet? Sometimes, when you play too close to the fire, you get burned. In your case, actually, roasted and served for a dinner party of twelve. I hope you get off to this type of thing, as otherwise it will NOT be pleasant."
She slides you into the oven and SLAMS the door closed. As the heat begins to roast your body, you hear the woman sobbing outside the door as she leans over the kitchen island.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Dee, the woman you unsuccessfully tried to talk out of cooking you, has just finished getting the side dishes on the table, arranged in a circular pattern just as the guests start to arrive. She expertly splits her time between playing hostess, hugging each guest, and continuing to make preparations to serve YOU for dinner. As she looks around the room, she smiles at members of her husband's family and even some of his co-workers, including his boss, his wife, and a younger blonde woman whom she doesn't exactly recognize.
Just as everyone is seated, Dee rolls out your perfectly roasted, stuffed, seasoned, and garnished body, still tied with twine, in the pan you cooked in. Her husband, "Case," and his boss lift and place you in the center, your eyes staring blankly as you are now surrounded by all the side dishes you will be enjoyed with. At some point after your demise, Dee pulled you out of the oven and gutted you, stuffing you with a nice apple-rosemary homemade bread stuffing, now bursting at the seams and ready to fill each and every plate.
Dee plays hostess and makes sure that every dish is passed around as you are carved literally from the bone. Various parts of your flesh are placed on each of the twelve guest plates, with each person deciding which side dishes you'll taste best with. Not a word is mentioned about who you were or what got you here as you're consumed, bite by bite, slowly chewed, swallowed, digested, and forgotten while the group makes small talk about their day, the weather, the latest sporting event, and the upcoming holiday.
As Dolcett Day is mentioned, Dee's eyes lower and she quivers in her seat. An uneasiness spins in her belly as she sneaks a peek at the wall, where Case's first wife looks on as a mounted trophy. Dee's distraction is broken as she hears Case laugh and watches as he stares at the young blonde woman with a ravenous, hungry, primal look.
A look that he used to reserve only for her.
Dee observes the blonde woman as she scans the room, like she's mentally rearranging it in her head. At first, Dee thinks that she's being judgmental about the way she's decorated or perhaps admiring her homemaking, but she then realizes the truth.
This woman is eyeing not what she sees as Dee's home, but what she hopes will soon be her home.
The clinking of glasses brings Dee back to reality, and she watches helplessly as Case stands and raises his glass for a toast. The glasses are ceremoniously raised, with Dee's coming last, hoping—just hoping—that what he's about to say won't be what she's been dreading all week.
"I'd like to thank my wife, Dee, for preparing such a delicious dinner for all of us. She's always been a great partner, an amazing cook, and a perfect wife. I couldn't have asked for anyone better."
A small round of applause from the assembled guests follows, and for just a moment, Dee feels like she's out of the woods.
"And that's why I couldn't think of a better time to tell everyone that Dee and I have decided that we'd like to invite everyone back to the home for a very special Dolcett Day roast this Friday. Isn't that right, Dee?"
Dee nearly throws up on her plate as she realizes her fate is all but sealed.
"Yes..." Dee says through choked vomit. "...We'd love to have everyone over for... dinner... in three days. I have a feeling it's going to be very special."
Dee feels all of the eyes in the room turn to stare at her. As she looks around to feign a smile, she sees the faces of the people she thought were her friends eyeing her up and down hungrily, no longer faces filled with warmth and kindness, but with a carnal desire to taste and consume her flesh. Dee also swears that, for a moment, she sees the young blonde woman lick her lips, an eager look on her face.
"I can see that everyone here has figured it out. We're proud to announce that my wife, Dee, has decided to volunteer herself at our Dolcett Day BBQ this Friday. There's nothing more a woman in this world can do to honor her relationship, her love, and most of all, her husband than to give herself to him and his family on this special day. Here's to Dee!"
A smattering of applause and cheering fills the room, much louder than the applause that ceremoniously came after Dee was complimented on her cooking, her womanhood, and her life.
Dee simply slumps in her seat and nods along, the next words coming out monotone, lifeless, and flat.
"It would be my honor to give myself to my husband. What else could a woman possibly consider doing than that?"
As Dee's head spins, she feels a hand on her neck and sees Case standing over her. She watches him lean in for what she assumes is a kiss, and she closes her eyes for just one more second of normalcy, affection, and value in who she really is. But then she feels a weight come off her neck and watches as her husband strips her of her necklace, the one that indicated she was a married woman entitled to the same safety, rights, and protections as men. She watches as he walks the necklace over to the young blonde woman.
"Now, I'm sure all of you would be worried about how I would take care of myself all on my lonesome..."
Laughter erupts in the room from everyone except Dee. The young blonde laughs especially loudly, a squeaky, nasally laugh that fills the room with fake excitement, as if she's rehearsed this moment a hundred times.
"But, you see, young Aureile here has agreed to be my new wife. And as her first duty to me, she's going to ROAST and serve Dee to all of us on Friday. How wonderful is that?"
Everyone congratulates Aureile as Case clasps the necklace around her neck. Aureile stands and raises a toast.
"Thank you, everyone. I look forward to getting to know you as my new family and, of course, to taking care of my new husband, Casimir! And to Dee, well, I promise to make you into a meal that no one will ever forget."
Dee raises her glass but can't make eye contact, defeated by the thought that the only memory of her existence will be the taste of her own flesh. Dee doesn't realize that fifteen, and then thirty, minutes pass without a single person even looking at or saying anything to her. She's only brought back to the passage of time, and how little she has left, as she feels a warm breath on her cheek and looks over to see Aureile staring directly into her eyes.
"Now then. Since you're nothing but meat at this point, why don't we get you downstairs, where I can get you soaking in a nice brine? Don't worry about the mess. I'll clean all of this up. This is MY house now, anyway."
Dee takes one final look at the empty place where her head will be mounted by Friday before standing and walking downstairs with Aurelie, accepting her fate as trophy of her husband's masculinity and the only memory of her being of the taste of her oven roasted flesh.
*****
[[CHECKPOINT: Dee's House ->Home Cooked 1]]You decide it's best to keep your eyes open and your body moving as the claws approach you. You've got great reflexes, and you've trained your body through various martial arts. It's just a matter of dodging them before they do whatever they're going to do.
A hand darts toward your right arm, and you're able to avoid it. Another hand reaches toward your left arm, and you're able to avoid it. You see the hands pull back and clamp shut, almost as if they're thinking.
You see a red light blinking, and you remember the AI from the breeding and milking room earlier. You wonder if these machines are trying to learn in real time.
The machine reaches out again with its right hand and tries to grab your right arm, but you pull it back.
The same thing happens on the left, and you pull it back as well. The hands withdraw again, clasping, blinking, and waiting.
As the right arm rushes forward a third time, you're ready for it and quickly pull your hand back. But, the left claw is already in motion, you notice too late, and it's able to grasp your left arm, crushing it at the wrist. You yelp out as the right claw grabs your right arm, and the claws pull your limbs wide. Seconds later, saw blade emerge from the claw arms and you watch helplessly as your arms are severed from your body.
You hang in shock and watch as your limbs are carried off and dropped into a meat grinder. As you stare off in a daze, rapidly losing blood, the claws come back, and clamp you by the waist as a saw comes through and cuts your legs from your body as well.
Your armless, legless torso is carried over to a styrofoam tray where you're tightly wrapped in plastic. You see your legs being sliced into deli meat next to you as you pass out, and die, as a wrapped torso roast.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
High above the city center of Dolcett, a man peers down at the world below. But he does not sit from a position of privilege, as he is not dressed in a suit, comfortably seated behind an executive desk at one of the biggest businesses in the country. Instead, he sits on a girder, his blue jeans stained and damp with sweat, as he looks down over the building that he is currently constructing.
He reaches over and grabs his lunchbox, an antique that was passed down from his father. As he opens it, besides a plastic bag of chips and two energy drinks, there is one last inkling of your existence in this world.
Wrapped tightly in plastic and pressed between two pieces of white bread, your sliced flesh is served as lunch meat for a blue-collar worker taking a break from his 12-hour shift. He slowly peels off the plastic, removing a note from the top of the bread that his wife left.
“Don’t be a dummy!
Make sure you fill your tummy!”
He smiles at the affectionate heart that his wife has drawn, with two stick figures of them holding hands. He looks down at the you sandwich and takes a bite that nearly consumes a third of it in one mouthful, chewing eagerly through your sliced flesh and the Dijon mustard that completes this very simple sandwich.
As he takes another bite, your existence in this world is nearly gone. He takes a moment to laugh as he sees just a sliver of your flesh hanging out from the bread.
“You know what they say. Women sure know how to make a good sandwich.”
He slides the rest of you into his mouth, chewing you into dust before swallowing you down and going back to work.
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Conveyor Belt ->Convey 1]]You immediately climb back up and begin to pull at the rope again. It's still slippery, and now even more so, as your hands are wet from the nerves of the moment. You use your teeth to take a large bite, gripping, pulling, and tearing through the rope. You realize as you bite that you're actually making a little bit of progress, and if you only had a little more time...
You feel a hand grip your hair and pull you back down.
"Noooo!" you instinctively scream.
You try to reach your hands out to fend him off, but he's prepared, and he strikes you with the butt of the knife directly in the ear, the ringing so loud and so intense that you swear that you're seeing the world in black and white. Your hands dangle limply alongside of you as you blink to try and clear your vision, and you feel a sudden stomach ache, like you have to vomit, and you try and reach up to press your stomach down to keep yourself together.
As you do, you're met with a curious sight, as you see one of your intestines dangling down in front of your face and plopping on the ground. You realize that he's already slit you open and started gutting you as he pulls your hair tight, exposing your neck, and he slowly drags his blade across your throat, your blood splattering onto the forest floor. Your body quakes with the reality of your demise as you feel stinging at your wrists as he continues bleeding you out, a cold acceptance washing over your body.
You're a caught, and now slaughtered doe, with your next stop being on this hunter's dinner plate.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
The same look of curiosity is still frozen on your face as your body continues to dangle by one ankle. However, your surroundings have changed. You are no longer surrounded by trees; instead, you are back at the staging area. Now, your body hangs over the wooden platform on the "Doe pole"—gutted, bled out, and lifeless, just a trophy on display.
Your hunter grips your hair by the roots just as he did before, but instead of doing so to pull you down and end your life, he does so to lift your head and improve the prospects of his.
He smiles as one of the lodge staff takes a photo, the flash reflecting in your dead eyes. He looks over the photo on his phone and shakes the staff member's hand.
"Definitely posting this one on my social media. That's a profile pic if I ever saw one."
He shares the photo of your carcass dangling lifelessly beside him, the duality of existence on clear display—one life ruined and ended in brutal fashion, another in triumph and celebration. As he finishes making his posts, a butcher in a stained white smock walks over.
"Would you like to use our processing center today? We can have this one portioned out, packed, and in a cooler within the hour."
He rubs his chin and looks over at you, giving your body a spin to consider his next move. As he does, he stops your rotation with his hand and traces a finger down your lat, a muscle on your back that you've worked hard to train in an effort to survive. Now, it appears it will only sustain someone else.
"I don't know how this doe got so muscular. Probably was her strategy to de-incentivize men from trying to bag her. But I don't mind a slow cook. In fact, I think four hours braising on my stove will be enough to make this fork-tender."
He looks over at the butcher.
"I'd like her backstrap harvested and brought out fresh, as I plan to cook it tonight. You can pack the rest of her in butcher paper since I'm going to store her in the freezer."
Your hunter's phone buzzes, and he smiles.
"You see that?" he says, showing the butcher just as your carcass is hoisted over his shoulder. "I've already gotten a comment from a girl I've been trying to bag for weeks. This little doe is going to help me get laid tonight. Finally."
He grabs your lifeless head one last time and pulls your expression toward his.
"Did you hear that? I'm going to serve you to my crush, and once you're digesting in both of our stomachs, I'm finally going to fuck her. I can't wait."
He slaps you on the ass as you're carried off to be butchered as your hunter eagerly types out a text to finalize plans for his dinner date - with you as the main course.
*************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs AM, The Hunt Begins ->Begin Hunt]]"I don't want it to be over," you proclaim. "I don't want to be eaten."
"Now, ask yourself, my delectable little doe - WHO are you trying to convince?"
"Charlene... how did you..."
"Oh, don't be so formal, Scarlett. Call me Char."
"How did you get me here?"
"It's not important how I got you here...the only thing that matters is that you CLEARLY want to be here."
You watch helplessly as Charlene traces a finger up your navel, between your breasts, and up to her lips. Her lips smack as she sucks in your flavor.
"Mmmm. I can taste the yearning in your sweat."
Your entire body shudders as you softly moan out.
"...I'm more than this."
Charlene steps back, her hand waving behind her, beckoning your eyes to follow.
"You're sure THIS isn't what you've always wanted?"
Behind her, appearing from what seems to be nowhere, is a commercial-sized, very-you-sized oven, glowing red inside.
You feel your breath quicken, and your legs press against your binds—but this time, not out of self-preservation.
But out of desire.
"How long do you think you can keep your dirty little secret, Scarlett?" Charlene teases. "How much longer are you going to fight off the inevitable? We both know that your destiny is with ME, first, in my oven, and then, on a platter, ready to be consumed."
[[Give up. You can't endure any more of this. Just ask her to make it quick. ->Dream Ends C]]
[[Go on. Deny yourself what is clearly overwhelming you. You can't just be eaten, right? ->Dream 4]]"I'll keep my urges to myself forever, if I have to. I'll do whatever it takes to keep women safe from you," you insist.
"But what about YOU truly want, my trussed little bird?" Charlene says, her knife now tracing up and down your skin. "What about your own primal lust to live your greatest fantasy? You can't tell me your plan is to DENY yourself for your entire life."
You feel your head smack against the metal tray as you lay back for a second. You see Charlene's face hovering over you, her white teeth bursting through her lips with a ravenous smile.
You feel a torrent of emotions flood your body.
Terror. Arousal. Frustration. Desire. Surrender.
"You've been DYING for me to be able to take advantage of you, haven't you? Just hoping that your little bodyguard would make one little slip? Or that you could find any little excuse to wander back to Dolcett so I could just eat you right up. Isn't that right, darling?"
"...even if it is. I'll always put those who need protecting above my own desires. It's who I am. That's what you'll never understand about me."
"It sounds like you just need me to put things in motion..."
You feel yourself slid on to a rolling cart, and you see the oven getting closer and closer. As the door opens, a rush of heat causes your body to sweat instantly, and you squirm as you're slid on the oven rack.
"..now, you're going to roast you until you're golden brown, and you will ONLY be done when your juices run clear...
Charlene flashes her right hand in front of your face, her fingers spread wide. She slowly puts her pinky, ring, and thumb in her palm, just leaving two fingers lined up with your vision.
Those two fingers.
...then, I'm going to eat every last part of you. Just like you've always wanted."
You're helpless as you watch Charlene's two fingers traces down your belly. With every inch towards your pussy, you feel an orgasm building, a frieght train of release rushing towards a climax that threatens to break you entirely.
She holds her two fingers just at the edge of your pussy, pressing them against your lips as she whispers in your ear.
"Cum for me, and then roast. It's all so perfect."
[[Cum for her, and then roast. This is just too perfect. ->Dream Ends]]hasAItem:false
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--
"...I'm...ready. I'm finally ready to be your meal. Please enjoy every last bite of me."
Charlene slips two fingers inside of you and your body erupts with orgasm, your body literally shooting straight up, pouring sweat. You're breathing, labored and intense, as you...
...realize that you're in your bedroom.
It was all a dream.
Again.
The same dream you've had for the last five years.
As you try to shake the cobwebs clean, you hear a buzzing on your dresser. You look over and see that your phone—your work phone—is vibrating.
It's vibrating on a Sunday.
Your office isn't even open on Sundays. There are only two people you trust with this specific number.
You pull your weighted blanket back to address the emergency. As you shift your legs to climb out of bed, you feel something that, deep down, you knew would be there.
Something that’s always there when you have this dream.
You look between your legs at your panties and see that they’re soaking wet.
Not from fear.
But from lust.
“Ugh,” you lament as you shake your head, climb out of bed, dust off the remnants of the dream, and pick up your phone.
You pause for just a second to grab a bottle of water, as you're feeling dehydrated from how hard you came to the fantasy of your own demise. You shake your head.
It's time to play your role as Scarlett Sky, CEO of SkyCorp.
[[Advance to: Title Screen ->Intro]]hasAItem:true
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--
You take a big breath.
"Let me OUT. Let me OUT. LET ME OUT!" you yell at the top of your lungs.
You don't hear a sound, your words echoing through what appears to be a void around you. You shake your head, close your eyes, and inhale again, ready to yell out again. Just as you open your mouth, a hand presses over your mouth.
"Come now, darling. You can BEG better than that," a feminine voice says, just as she releases her hand from your mouth.
"Charlene... how did you..."
"I just want to hear you say it one more time, darling, and I promise it will ALL be over..."
"You heard me. I want this to all be over! I want out of this right now!"
"That's music to my ears," she says with a grin, flashing a knife in front of your eyes. You gasp as you watch her press it against the top of your sternum.
"This is the ONLY way out for you, my little roaster."
You scream as you see the blade slice into you, the intensity of the moment causing your body to shoot straight up.
You sit for a moment, panting and sweating as you blink your eyes several times, the realization washing over you.
It was just a dream. It always ends the same, but the buildup is different each time. Regardless, it has haunted you for five years.
As you regain your faculties and scan your bedroom, you see your cell phone vibrating on your dresser. Your eyes narrow—it’s Sunday afternoon, and you don’t use this phone for personal calls.
Not that you have time for any personal calls.
As you pull your weighted blanket back to address whatever emergency is waiting, you feel something that, deep down, you knew would be there.
Something that’s always there when you have this dream.
You look between your legs at your panties and see that they’re just a bit wet.
Not from fear.
But from lust.
“Ugh,” you lament as you shake your head, climb out of bed, dust off the remnants of the dream, and pick up your phone.
As you walk out of the door, you make sure to grab your ID badge and laynard. The photo of you is from five years ago - a cheerful, optimistic smile that does not match the face you see reflected back on the plastic. You take a breath.
It's time to play your role as Scarlett Sky, CEO of SkyCorp.
[[Advance to: Title Screen ->Intro]]hasAItem:false
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--
You gulp loud enough that it echoes through your pan, looking up at Charlene, the woman you've been forced to work with for the last five years. A predator that you've kept at bay through a business relationship, but secretly...
"I just want this to be over..."
"You being tied to this pan... or this charade that you don't CRAVE this?"
She doesn't wait for you to respond before driving her knife into you, the intensity of the moment causing your body to shoot straight up.
You sit for a moment, panting and sweating as you blink your eyes several times, the realization washing over you.
It was just a dream. It always ends the same, but the buildup is different each time. Regardless, it has haunted you for five years.
As you regain your faculties and scan your bedroom, you see your cell phone vibrating on your dresser. Your eyes narrow—it’s Sunday afternoon, and you don’t use this phone for personal calls.
Not that you have time for any personal calls.
As you pull your weighted blanket back to address whatever emergency is waiting, you feel something that, deep down, you knew would be there.
Something that’s always there when you have this dream.
You look between your legs at your panties and see that they’re damped.
Not from fear.
But from lust.
“Ugh,” you lament as you shake your head, climb out of bed, dust off the remnants of the dream, and pick up your phone.
As you walk out of the door, you grab your car keys off the counter. The keychain has a tag of your company logo, your last name nearly gone entirely, worn off of the embroidering. You shake your head.
It’s time to play your role as Scarlett Sky, CEO of SkyCorp.
[[Advance to: Title Screen ->Intro]]hasAItem:false
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--
"...you're right." you mutter.
You take a moment to allow a full breath to go through your body as you inhale pleasure and exhale satisfaction.
"...I can't keep it up any longer. I want to be eaten. I want to be roasted fucking alive in an oven. But most of all..."
You stare into her eyes as your vision gets blurry.
"...I want to be eaten by you, Char. I've always wanted it to be you"
You feel yourself floating as you’re wheeled toward the oven. Heat blasts over your skin, immediately making you damp with sweat. You give one last look, seeing total satisfaction—pleasure, victory—in Charlene’s face as she shoves an apple into your mouth.
You feel the tray slide in, and the heat grows even more intense. The oven door closes, and it’s intolerably sweltering.
You can't breathe, you can't think. You can feel your organs start to boil inside you. Your entire body starts to quake, and every instinct in your body screams out—not to escape, not to survive, but to—
The intensity of the moment causes your body to shoot straight up.
You sit for a moment, panting and sweating as you blink your eyes several times, the realization washing over you.
It was just a dream. It always ends the same, but the buildup is different each time. Regardless, it has haunted you for five years.
As you regain your faculties and scan your bedroom, you see your cell phone vibrating on your dresser. Your eyes narrow—it’s Sunday afternoon, and you don’t use this phone for personal calls.
Not that you have time for any personal calls.
As you pull your weighted blanket back to address whatever emergency is waiting, you feel something that, deep down, you knew would be there.
Something that’s always there when you have this dream.
You look between your legs at your panties and see that they’re soaked.
Not from fear.
But from lust.
“Ugh,” you lament as you shake your head, climb out of bed, dust off the remnants of the dream, and pick up your phone.
You pause for just a second to grab a towel and dry off the damp sweat that is all over your body, a cold reminder of the lust that threatens to consume you. You tuck it in your pocket and take a breath.
It's time to play your role as Scarlett Sky, CEO of SkyCorp.
[[Advance to: Title Screen ->Intro]]Just as Leikr is about to break inside you, you pull your hips high and wrap your legs around his neck and lock in a triangle choke. He tries to punch at your thigh, but you cinch down and squeeze tighter. He lifts your body off the ground, determined to slam your head into the concrete and splatter your brain all over the town square, but he groans in agony as you hear his broken ribs snapping in two. He tumbles down in pain, and as you lock in your choke, he begins to fade away.
“I'm pretty sure the world's most famous assassin is about to lose, boss.” the younger officer says.
"I can see that." The older officer says.
“Shouldn't we help him, boss?”
The older officer adjusts his belt.
“YOU'RE more than welcome to jump in. I'll be right here.”
The younger officer looks at his superior, looks over at the fight, and steps back.
“Maybe not, boss.”
Leikr throws two more soft punches at your thigh before he goes limp, passing out from the lack of blood flow to his brain.
Elsewhere in Dolcett, the woman who was about to be spit stands in front of her TV, transfixed. The purchased meatgirl stands just outside the boiling pot, unable to look away.
A silence has overtaken the entire country, including in the town square where your battle has just concluded.
"You lose," you say, shoving Leikr off of you. He sleeps quietly as his nose bleeds. His ribs are broken, his lung is punctured, and his knee is torn in three places.
You stand up just as Leikr comes to, and he stumbles around in the silence, still in shock from the realization of his defeat.
"I... lost?! To you? And yet... you didn't have the balls to kill me…"
"I don't need balls to show the world that a women, any woman, can change the world." You declare. “The only question remaining for you, Leikr, is if you will accept your defeat gracefully.”
[[Keep your eyes locked on him. If you turn your back on him, he will try to kill you. You've learned that much. ->Ending Grade B]]
[[Turn your back on him. He will be enraged and try and kill you, you've learned that much. ->Duel Winner]]MINDBREAK
[[OH GOD HES GOING TO MAKE ME CUM ->Living Trophy]]-[[EVERYONE IS WATCHING ->Living Trophy]]-[[SO MANY PEOPLE ARE HERE ->Living Trophy]]-[[AND FILMING ->Living Trophy]]-[[AND STREAMING ->Living Trophy]]-[[AND IM FUCKING STREAMING ->Living Trophy]]-[[IM LEAKING ->Living Trophy]]-[[I WANT IT SO BAD ->Living Trophy]]-[[FUCK PHOENIX ->Living Trophy]]-[[FUCK THIS REVOLUTION ->Living Trophy]]-[[I WANT TO BE A TROPHY ->Living Trophy]]-[[I WANT TO BE LEIKRS PROPERTY ->Living Trophy]]-[[MOUNTED AND STUFFED ->Living Trophy]]-[[AND ON DISPLAY FOREVER ->Living Trophy]]-[[HIS SIGNATURE ITEM ->Living Trophy]]-[[REMEMBERED FOREVER ->Living Trophy]]-[[AND NO MORE RESPONSIBILITY ->Living Trophy]]-[[JUST A DELICIOUS DUMB KEPT CAPTURED OBJECT ->Living Trophy]]-[[TAKE ME ->Living Trophy]]-[[HAVE ME ->Living Trophy]]-[[CHOKE ME ->Living Trophy]]-[[I CAN CHOKE HIM OUT ->Duel Four]]-[[POSSESS ME ->Living Trophy]]-[[OWN ME ->Living Trophy]]-[[DONT LET ME THINK AGAIN ->Living Trophy]]-[[PLEASE JUST LET ME CUM ->Living Trophy]]-[[CAN I JUST CUM ->Living Trophy]]-[[IVE FOUGHT SO HARD ->Living Trophy]]-[[SOMEONE ELSE TAKE IT FROM HERE ->Living Trophy]]-[[I WANT TO BE TAKEN AND EATEN ->Living Trophy]]-[[GOD EATEN ->Living Trophy]]-[[I WANT LEIKRS TEETH TO CHEW THROUGH ME ->Living Trophy]]-[[I WANT TO HEAR HIM BOAST OVER ME ->Living Trophy]]-[[I WANT EVERY WOMAN IN DOLCETT TO CUM TO THE THOUGHT OF BEING ME ->Living Trophy]]-[[TO BEING THIS SPECIAL ->Living Trophy]]-[[TO BEING THIS OWNED ->Living Trophy]]-[[GOD IVE WANTED TO BE BROKEN FOR SO LONG ->Living Trophy]]-[[CONQUERED ->Living Trophy]]-[[DEFEATED ->Living Trophy]]-[[ENSLAVED ->Living Trophy]]-[[SUBMITTED ->Living Trophy]]-[[IDENTITY ERASED ->Living Trophy]]-[[JUST MEAT A TROPHY AND A STORY ->Living Trophy]]-[[OH GOD HES GOING TO MAKE ME CUM ->Living Trophy]]-[[EVERYONE IS WATCHING ->Living Trophy]]-[[SO MANY PEOPLE ARE HERE ->Living Trophy]]-[[AND FILMING ->Living Trophy]]-[[AND STREAMING ->Living Trophy]]-[[AND IM FUCKING STREAMING ->Living Trophy]]-[[IM LEAKING ->Living Trophy]]-[[I WANT IT SO BAD ->Living Trophy]]-[[FUCK PHOENIX ->Living Trophy]]-[[FUCK THIS REVOLUTION ->Living Trophy]]-[[I WANT TO BE A TROPHY ->Living Trophy]]-[[I WANT TO BE LEIKRS PROPERTY ->Living Trophy]]-[[MOUNTED AND STUFFED ->Living Trophy]]-[[AND ON DISPLAY FOREVER ->Living Trophy]]-[[HIS SIGNATURE ITEM ->Living Trophy]]-[[REMEMBERED FOREVER ->Living Trophy]]-[[AND NO MORE RESPONSIBILITY ->Living Trophy]]-[[JUST A DELICIOUS DUMB KEPT CAPTURED OBJECT ->Living Trophy]]-[[TAKE ME ->Living Trophy]]-[[HAVE ME ->Living Trophy]]-[[CHOKE ME ->Living Trophy]]-[[CHOKE HIM ->Duel Four]]-[[POSSESS ME ->Living Trophy]]-[[OWN ME ->Living Trophy]]-[[DONT LET ME THINK AGAIN ->Living Trophy]]-[[PLEASE JUST LET ME CUM ->Living Trophy]]-[[CAN I JUST CUM ->Living Trophy]]-[[IVE FOUGHT SO HARD ->Living Trophy]]-[[SOMEONE ELSE TAKE IT FROM HERE ->Living Trophy]]-[[I WANT TO BE TAKEN AND EATEN ->Living Trophy]]-[[GOD EATEN ->Living Trophy]]-[[I WANT LEIKRS TEETH TO CHEW THROUGH ME ->Living Trophy]]-[[I WANT TO HEAR HIM BOAST OVER ME ->Living Trophy]]-[[I WANT EVERY WOMAN IN DOLCETT TO CUM TO THE THOUGHT OF BEING ME ->Living Trophy]]-[[TO BEING THIS SPECIAL ->Living Trophy]]-[[TO BEING THIS OWNED ->Living Trophy]]-[[GOD IVE WANTED TO BE BROKEN FOR SO LONG ->Living Trophy]]-[[CONQUERED ->Living Trophy]]-[[DEFEATED ->Living Trophy]]-[[ENSLAVED ->Living Trophy]]-[[SUBMITTED ->Living Trophy]]-[[IDENTITY ERASED ->Living Trophy]]-[[JUST MEAT A TROPHY AND A STORY ->Living Trophy]]
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}, 42_000);As you approach the city center, it is quite the spectacle.
You march in front of the six condemned “volunteers,” all of whom have been labeled on their skin with the manner in which they were ordered to cook. They now glow with the hope of a life that could not only be something different from what was required of them moments before, but one that may not end on this very day.
As you continue through the parade grounds, you see Puma and Zoe run up alongside you.
“We’re all set,” Puma says.
“Puma is a BADASS, Scarlett,” Zoe says, repeating herself from earlier. “I don’t know if you know this or not.”
You smile.
“Oh, I know. But hey, Zoe, maybe you’re turning into a little badass yourself,” you say back.
She blushes and makes a little muscle with her arm, with Puma patting her on the head.
“Yeah, what this one lacks in foundational training, she sure makes up for in courage.”
Zoe blushes hard.
“You guys are just too sweet.”
You hear footsteps to your right and look as Phoenix, Blueberry, and the LFD catch up.
“Everything’s going according to plan,” Phoenix says as Blueberry gives two thumbs up. “The police are a mess. They are so discombobulated that they practically walked us here.”
You look ahead just as the last of the people gathered in the town square part for your full team to enter.
“Your plan is really coming together, Phoenix,” you say. “We really are making a statement. We’re going to change this—”
As the last of the crowd parts, there is just one man standing in the center of the city square.
“Scarlett Sky. Could there be a grander moment for your preservation than this?”
You stop for just a second, like you’ve seen a ghost.
“Leikr…”
Phoenix looks over to you in shock.
“You said you killed him?”
“Not yet,” Puma cuts in before turning to you. “But you’re going to have to now. Do you understand?”
Your stomach turns in knots, but you remember your words to Zoe yesterday. You turn to face Leikr, despite the fear, despite the risk, despite the sacrifice that may have to be made. You commit yourself to doing what must be done to change this world.
“I’d like to give you one last opportunity to leave,” you say.
“Not without you, Scarlett. You’re going in my collection, and this—this moment—will be talked about forever. When I show you off as one of my trophies, it will be a part of a shared flashbulb memory that an entire country will remember forever.”
You look up at the sky and see that television helicopters have begun to circle the town square.
“We can take him,” Phoenix says, placing a hand on your shoulder. “All of us. Together, all at once. He’s done so much to hurt women that if we accomplish just one thing on this day—”
“No,” you say, the wheels turning in your head. “Not all of us….”
You look over at Puma, determination in your eyes.
“You’re finally ready,” Puma says. “Show me. Show the world what I see.”
You and Puma rest your foreheads against each other, clasping each other’s forearms in the tradition of her people.
“This is crazy,” Phoenix implores. “You’d risk our entire revolution on a one-on-one fight with the most dangerous man this country has ever known?”
You scan the circle that has formed around the town square. There are hundreds, thousands, of paradegoers, men and women alike, with their phones out, recording, streaming, witnessing.
“Phoenix…” you say softly. “It’s like you said yesterday—for them to truly believe in it, they have to see it. I am going to show them what a woman is capable of—what any woman in Dolcett can do if she is willing to take a stand. You said you needed me in this movement because I have something unique to offer—this is what I’ve been called here to do.”
Phoenix takes a long drag of her vape. She nods as she exhales, stepping back to give her blessing for you to advance forward.
“Go get ’em, Scarlett!” Zoe says, her face gleaming.
Blueberry flashes you two thumbs up.
Puma crosses her arms, standing next to Zoe as she watches.
“Yes, YES,” Leikr says, raising his hands. “I’m finally going to eat you. I’m going to start with your cheeks and your tongue, since you like to run your mouth so much. I’m going to braise them…”
“Enough.”
He stops, taken aback.
“You’ve lived long enough, Leikr,” you say flatly. “Being alive is a gift. Having a choice to be anything in the world is a treasure. You have squandered both, and for that, I have no reservations about taking all of that from you.”
“HA. The treasure to be claimed here is YOU. You’ve written quite the legend, Scarlett Sky. I hope you don’t mind if I add the final chapter.”
Leikr races forward, eager to rip you in two with his bare hands.
[[Stand your ground. You haven’t marched all the way to the town square to end up this man’s trophy. ->Duel Two]]
[[Rush to meet him while taunting him. You will overwhelm his ego, and he will be so taken aback that you’ll have a clear advantage. ->Police Banquet Beef Cheeks]]A series of punches threatens to overwhelm you, but you remain focused on the task at hand, on your training, on the instinct to respond rather than react. You bob and weave around two strikes, block a third, and, as Leikr throws a thundering kick toward your right ribs, you catch it, softening any potential impact. He tries to pull his leg away, but you hold firm and drive your elbow into his knee, tearing his ligaments with a pop.
As he hobbles backward on one leg, you hold him by his ruined knee and land six consecutive hooks to his rib cage, his ribs snapping loudly at the fourth blow. He reaches in to grab your face and stick his thumbs in your eyes, so you crash your forehead into his jaw, sending him tumbling backward so hard that the assembled crowd gasps in response.
As he slides back, fear quaking in his eyes, you advance cautiously, step by step, toward what must be done.
Step by step, in a home across the street from the barbecue, a doomed woman approaches a nearly boiling-hot, person-sized stainless-steel stockpot. She dips a toe in, and self-preservation causes her to recoil. She winces as she looks down at the thick broth of vegetables, herbs, and seasonings that soon will cook her into soup.
"Go on now. I spent good money on you, and I've been cleaning you out for three days."
The woman looks up at the gathering of people huddled around the TV. She then looks to her right and watches you crack Leikr's ribs on a cell phone streaming the action just beside her.
"No..."
"You...don't have the right to say no," a frustrated man says. "You don't have any rights at all. I bought you. You're not even legally alive. Now GET in that soup, or I'm going to..."
"Going to what?” The purchased woman responds. “If these women don't consent, then neither do I!"
The house gasps as everyone looks around, unsure of what to do next.
"Let's just shove her in the pot," another man says.
The women stand up in protest, many of them wearing heart collar necklaces.
"You can't just shove her in. It's Dolcett Day. It's about her right to choose. It's about everyone's right to choose."
“She doesn't have any rights. We bought her, remember?” a man responds.
“I'm not sure that's how it works on Dolcett Day,” a wife responds. “Does anyone ACTUALLY know how it works?”
Leikr staggers to his feet, but he slumps to one side, cradling his ribs. His breath is labored as he spits out blood, his lung punctured from your assault. Panic fills his eyes as his glare steels into hatred.
“I am the greatest warrior in Dolcett. You are JUST a woman.”
“It's like I told you already. You've lost,” you announce. “You can't beat me because you can't see me as a serious opponent. It's left you sloppy, disorganized, and predictable. The only reason you've enjoyed the reputation that you do is because women here spend most of the fight accepting that they're going to lose because they're afraid of you.”
You walk forward, ready to show the world the true power and purpose of a woman.
“I am not afraid of you, Leikr. If anything, I pity you.”
He laughs before nearly doubling over in pain.
“YOU are going to lose. I still have my ace in the hole against you. I know deep down what you and EVERY woman wants.”
He staggers ahead, his hands slowly unbuckling his belt. Your eye sneak a peek down and an inhale of lust fills your lungs.
"You’re not above this. No woman is,” he challenges. “It's time. It's time to give in to your desires..."
He unzips his pants and you freeze in place.
" I'm going to make you cum in front of the entire world. You're going to scream out and show the world what EVERY woman truly dreams of deep down- to be conquered by an alpha male like me and turned into a trophy. I'm going to break your mind, and then I'll break your body."
You feel your fists lower slightly as they begin to feel heavy. You try to blink several times to get the warm, flushing sensation out of your cheeks. But, despite your efforts, you feel your brain begin to swoon as your thighs start to squeeze together.
"You're wrong... I am more than my desi-"
You gasp as he pulls his hard cock out of his pants, eight inches long, with a thick, fat head. The gathered onlookers lean their phones in - and you hear a whispering, chanting like sound as there is suddenly so much noise around you. It's hard to focus on anything but...it.
You see him throw a punch and your arms raises to block, but you’re in a daze. You don’t realize until it’s too late that the punch was a distraction for Leikr to swoop in, grab you by the waist, and drive you to the ground. You suddenly realize you’re on your back, legs stacked over your head in a classic breeding position, your pussy open and eager to receive him.
You moan in desperation - for which outcome, you're not even sure.
"That's right.” Leikr says as he sees the lust in your eyes, lining up his cock for the entrance of your moist cunt. “You should be honored to know that you're going to be the greatest piece of my collection—a special type of trophy that I'm going to be showing off for a VERY long time."
[[Leikr has mounted you. He was right about one thing - when the time came, you'd only have one choice. ->Duel Mindbreak]]Leikr races in, eager to slam his fist directly into your jaw, but you stand your ground - meeting his fist with your hands - not to deflect, not to dodge, but to block all of the force of his attack. As his hand meet yours, he's stopped in place, and he growls as he tries to overpower you.
"You've made your last mistake. You're NOT stronger than me."
"Don't need to be." you say as you shrug him off your right side, palm strike him in the nose, and land a spin kick into his thigh. He staggers back as blood again pours out of his nose. As he looks up, you land a roundhouse to his ribs, a right hook to the side of his head, and a powering left hand that uppercuts his jaw so forcefully he flies onto his back.
"This...can't be happening!"
Leikr's words are echoed across the country of Dolcett, including in a household in a quiet suburb that is hosting a Dolcett Day barbecue.
“I can't believe it!” a male voice says as he stands frantically in front of his TV, watching the live broadcast of your fight with Leikr.
Just outside, a woman sighs loudly, making a final proclamation of her frustration at the end of her existence in the world. She takes off her collar necklace, and stares down at the jewel that was supposed to signify her freedom from a moment just like this, before dropping it beside her on the picnic table. She looks into her own reflection on the metal spit to wipe two tears off her face, and then lowers herself in position to be impaled by her husband, who stands eagerly behind her, the instrument of her end gripped tight in his hands.
“You’ve got to come inside and see what’s going on. It’s crazy!” a male voice screams from inside the home.
“Right after I get my wife over the fire,” the woman’s husband annoyingly responds.
“No, you have to come RIGHT NOW. It’s Leikr. He’s fighting some woman to the death in the town square.”
"So what? He's winning, right?" The husband says as he presses the tip into his wifes dry, unwilling cunt.
"No, he's getting his ASS handed to him."
The woman lifts her head up, and then slides her hips forward. She spins her legs to the warm grass and starts to walk inside the house.
"Excuse me, Helen, get your ass over here. We're on a schedule."
"No..." Helen responds affirmatively.
"What do you mean, no?"
"I mean, I don't consent yet. I want to see how this goes..."
Leikr grabs his nose and snaps it back into place, wiping the blood from his lips. He tries to shake the cobwebs off, one eye starting to swell shut.
"Damn, you're good. All the better. I want you to be a trophy to remember."
"What happens here will be remembered, that much is for sure. You've lost."
"What did you say?!"
"I said, you've already lost. You were right about there being no choices when this moment came- the truth is, there are none for you - but that is by your own hand, having chosen such a narrow way to experience life."
"No, Scarlett, this is your final choice, so make it a good one. I'm done playing with you and ready to pick those fucking bones of yours."
Leikr marches forward, raising his fists.
[[Circle around him, evade his onslaught, and let him tire himself out. ->Lamb Ribs]]
[[Continue to stand your ground. His advantage is women have always been afraid of him - but you're not. ->Duel Three]]sectionStart: trail.length
--
You turn your head. You see Zoe smiling, Blueberry hopping up and down, and Phoenix nodding, hitting her vape in celebration.
You lock eyes with Puma as she slowly shakes her head in the negative. But then, as she studies your expression, she freezes. She does not give away what she realizes with her face.
"I can't believe it. Scarlett won!" Zoe exclaims.
Puma places her hand on Zoe's shoulder.
"Yes. Her training is complete. The time has finally come."
You see Leikr struggling to stand out of the corner of your eye, and you wait. Just as he takes two steps back toward the line of officers holding the crowd back, you turn your back to him.
He freezes in place.
"…how DARE you turn your back on me?!"
He frantically reaches for a pistol from an officer's holster, and they struggle for a moment before Leikr rips it free. As he turns to meet you, you're already there, ready to wrestle the gun from his hands. It fires, the shot so loud that your ears are ringing afterward.
But not your body.
You watch as blood pours through Leikr's shirt. The news cameras zoom in close to capture the moment.
Both of your hands were on the handle.
Only his finger was on the trigger.
Leikr stumbles, and you lower him onto his back as he shakes from impending death.
"Killed by a mere woman..."
"No. Killed by yourself. Your own desires. Greed. Selfishness. Misogyny. Long before we met, you were lost."
He coughs blood that splashes on your face. You wipe it off and let it splash off your hand onto the cement.
"I am just the instrument that has been sent to collect the debt you have not paid," you say.
"I can't believe that this is how I'm going to be remembered..." Leikr laments.
You shake your head.
"No, you're not going to be remembered... at all."
He stares at you, perplexed, like you just spoke a foreign language.
"History has very little patience for self-created figures—people who prop themselves up at the expense of others, pointing relentlessly at themselves over and over. Time has a way of seeing through those who spend their lives trying to cradle something that does not exist. Your legacy is not redefined here; we've just hastened the realization of what you truly are. You'll be a footnote in the history of this world - a cautionary tale, and then, forgotten."
Leikr shakes his head.
"And what about you, Scarlett Sky? I may bear the scars of our battle, but I suspect your deepest wounds are within. Once this is all over with, it'll just be you at your little office, trying to fight off your desire that every woman in this whole world craves—to be conquered and eaten. You say I'll be forgotten, nut you'll never be able to realize what you truly are. So go ahead, celebrate your victory, just know that..."
Leikr laughs.
"...you'll celebrate it all alone."
Your eyes turn away for a moment, contemplating the gravity of his words, the question that has hung over your existence every day for the last five years. You have never truly let anyone in, as they will either run away from you in disgust or use your greatest fantasy against you.
You take a breath and nod your head, an answer formulated in your mind, feeling very reluctant to give him the last word.
As you turn back to respond, Leikr is gone, a wretched smile frozen on his face. His eyes stare vacantly ahead, into whatever hell lies in wait for him.
***********
You feel a hand on your shoulder and turn, seeing Phoenix looking down through a cloud of vapor.
"I can't believe it. You DID it, Scarlett. You're the most incredible woman I've ever known."
"No, you are. You're the one who's made all this possible."
The police move in and form a line in front of you.
"All right, this has gone far enough.” The police captain says. “Disrespecting a man on Dolcett Day is one thing, but murder has only one punishment by law."
"What about the rest of 'em, boss?" the younger officer inquires.
"Accomplices."
"But they just stood and watched? Does that mean we need to be executed, too?"
"Shut up and aim your gun."
The officers line up their guns in front of Scarlett and the LFD.
Phoenix looks up, and the helicopter crew is gone.
"Well, they at least saw what we did here today," Phoenix says.
"It'll be enough to make a difference," you say back.
"Too bad we won't live to see it," Phoenix says, ready to accept the end.
They line up their guns. The police captain raises his hand, ready to drop you and the LFD into oblivion, but his walkie-talkie chirps.
"Yes. No, we have it under control. How many? Where? ALL OVER TOWN?"
"What is it, boss?"
The police captain's walkie-talkie drops out of his hand, smacking against the cement. He backpedals slowly, like he's seen a ghost.
"There are women coming here…”
“How many, boss?”
“Thousands…tens of thousands…from every direction."
"We don't have enough bullets for that, boss."
"You can say that again." The captain turns and looks at his men. “Triple pay my ass. Fall back. You hear me? FALL BACK!"
The police scatter out of the town square. Blueberry hops up and down emphatically as she jumps onto Phoenix's back.
"I can't believe it... we did it," Phoenix says, her hand quaking as she struggles to press her vape against her lips.
"No, Phoenix. You did it.” You laud. “We won because others are coming to join us. No, join YOU."
"THERE THEY ARE!"
You, Phoenix, and Blueberry turn as a news reporter rushes over with a camera crew, the cameraman still wearing his flight suit from the helicopter.
"Channel 4 News here, reporting LIVE from the town square. An incredible scene has taken place as Leikr was felled by his OWN hand. With us is Scarlett Sky, crusader from North Carolina. Tell us—what inspired you to come to Dolcett and start this revolution?!"
Phoenix chuckles as she steps backward.
“Yeah, tell ’em, Scarlett. The floor’s all yours,” Phoenix says, eager to slip back into the shadows.
You look at Phoenix and then into the camera, and shake your head.
“If you can hear my voice, then know that I hear your voice, too. I’m Scarlett Sky, and for years I’ve fought for the right for a woman’s right to choose from a place of privilege in the United States. But it’s time…it’s time for the women in Dolcett to have the same rights.”
Phoenix nods as she listens along.
“And for that to take place, it’s time for Dolcett to be led by a woman. But not one from the outside…”
Phoenix chokes on her vape as she freezes in place.
“…but one of your own—the real leader of this movement is standing just beside me.”
You turn to Phoenix as the camera turns to her.
“But, Scarlett, I’m just a revolutionary…”
“Then be a revolutionary from the inside. Be the person you’ve always dreamt of, the one that he tried to take away from you. She’s still in there – I know it.”
You walk away, leaving Phoenix in front of the reporters. She looks around and see women from all corners of the country marching into the town square, joining her cause. She takes a deep breath and looks into the camera.
“Today was the beginning of a new era in Dolcett. My name is Phoenix, and I speak to you not just as a woman, but as someone whose voice was to be silenced long ago. It is time that women, too, had choices. And it’s time we made those choices for ourselves…”
She waves her arm, and the women of the LFD gather around her.
“…choices to want to be something more than a meal. The choice to dream. To be something greater than we ever thought possible. Today, we ask you to join us here to celebrate the true meaning of Dolcett Day—the right for a woman to shape her own destiny—and to expand that meaning so that it is no longer the exception, but the rule we follow from this moment on.”
Women rush past you from every direction to stand with Phoenix and hear her words. You shake your head and smile. You’ve accomplished more here than you could’ve ever imagined, and now the only thing left to do is—
You stop in place. You scan the street quickly, side to side. You can still hear Phoenix giving her first address, but there’s only one voice you want to hear now.
Zoe’s.
As you go to walk back to ask Phoenix, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You look and see Blueberry, and she pulls you by the wrist to the last spot you saw Zoe standing.
You look down at the ground in that spot—and process, without words, the implication. No, the declaration that has been made. You don’t bother wondering why, as all will be answered soon enough.
Answered in the forest of K’Kanok.
You bend down and trace your hands over Zoe’s pearl necklace, which lies in the street.
In the center, stuck in a crack in the cement, face down…
...is Puma’s Chanir.
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Friday PM, Sleeping Willow Forest->Puma Battle Intro]]wards in place,
He screams out in pain. You throw him to the ground
Zoe watches on. I can't believe it Scarlett's winning
Puma places her hand on Zoe's shoulder. Her training is complete. The time has finally come."
"You're no match for me. It shouldn't be he be happening
You should have never been allowed to get this far. This is a message across this land, and no man is greater than any woman based on his standing. Risgender is pride. We're all fallible."
He stands up, reaching behind him for a second before lunching
I bet you can't stop this
Do you see it coming this time. His attempts to pretend like he's going to quit, he's begging, his pathetic excuse for combat as he tries to sneak a blade from his pocket and stick it in your side.
You block it with both hands as you wrestle with him to the ground
Go ahead. Kill me. You have ethics and rules.
I do. But I'm willing to carry the burden. I always have been.
You don't have the balls to kill me
You stab him in the chest.
The difference between us is you think having balls matters.
....I can't believe...
...I can't believe she just...
It's almost like...
...any woman can kill a man...
"I cant believe I lost to a lowly woman. I wonder - what trophy you'll keep of me in your victory."
"None."
"...what?!"
*************************
All three of the families watching your skirmish gasp. So does every woman at the parade in the festival. As silence falls over the entire country.
Leikr looks down in the blade in his sternum and slowly leans back onto the cement.
I can't believe this... I was killed by... A lowly woman?
Not lonely. Just a woman. Someone no different than you based on my gender, my appearance or my biology. That's what I understand and you cannot.
*************************
****************
**************
You do realize that you've changed nothing right? That these people can't lead themselves. They have the same desire as you. Deep down they know they want to be subjugated and eaten and mounted. Their trophies and meat. All you've done is delay. The inevitable, whatever civilization they create will crumble down based on their own urges and they'll end up right back at their feet. I'll just where they've been all along.
All you've done is to delay the inevitable f***
That's where you're wrong
You say that there's a desires or weakness, but it's a gift. Maybe the society will fall. Maybe it'll thrive. But it's their decision to make. It's their fate to guy. They don't need men to decide what and who they're going to be. Some of them will get eaten, and some of them some of them will be something more.
And you're saying there's more to being a woman than being food
I'm saying that's a woman's right to choose.
Choice... Where did choice... Get... You... Scarlett
It got me to where I meant to be. It'll get these women to where they're meant to be wherever that is and to be honest...
... Choice got you exactly where you deserve.
He died
"I will keep none. It will not be you that is remembered on this day. It will be the bravery of the women who were willing to take a stand - here, and across this world."
"......."
"You are a footnote in history. Less than that - you'll be forgotten. History doesn't look kindly on self made monuments. They crumble back into the dust of where they came as stone and mortar can never carry the same weight as the endurace of the human desire to be free."
"This is all nonsense...these women...don't even know how to breathe on their own, not to mention live. Look at you, straining yourself every second of your day to save them. When it's all over, you'll be alone, trying to masturbate your desires away. Tell me I'm wrong."
Scarlett looks off into the distance for a moment, and as she turns back to retort, he has passed on.
**************************
*************************
There's nothing to study. I never knew who you were before I got here, and no one is going to know who you were after you're gone. History doesn't waste time on men like you, self-saving self-serving sycophants who spend money and people and resources trying to Trump themselves up. Be something more than they're not. When you go out, everything you wore will crumble because there's nothing behind it. You're hollow empty and you rely on other people's torment to get what you want.
But instead, you're going to get what you need from me.
He races forward with an attack, fainting a strike but you can see is like coming
You won't have to wait much longer for death.
You block it with both hands as you wrestle with him to the ground
You don't have the balls to kill me.
That's where you're wrong
Go ahead. You don't have the balls to kill me
You stab him in the chest.
I don't need the balls.Just as you wake up, you feel the humidity of the air surrounding you, soaking out the water from inside your body and filling you with sweat. You notice that your face down, and also somehow weightless, as you try to get your faculties and press down on a floor that feels uneven. As you press and feel the texture, you realize that you're hanging in a net.
As you try to open your eyes which are pooled with sweat, the only thing you see below you looks like a lake, that you notice is actually surrounded by a stainless steel pot. As your vision clears and the smell of salt and seafood fills your nose, you start to quake with fear as you see the boiling water underneath you
You try and jump up, but the net has you rather securely bound in a perfect shape to be dropped into the pot. You look around and lock eyes was so and so.
Yes, this is a rather ingenious design, if I do say so myself. You see, much like seafood, we spent the time to harden and dry out your skin so it'll make a perfect exterior to keep the meat nice and moist underneath. When we boil you, it'll cause the outside to protect the inside for being overcooked, and you'll be fork tender and served La crout just like we would a lobster. Which deep down is all you've ever really been, isn't it a little crustacean trying to be more than she was but really just dying to have her little claws feels cracked, open and have her meat sucked out of her. Digested it by a predator of the land.
You look down and see that some seasonings have been added to the pot and a few corn on the cob and other things for the proper boil.
Well, I guess this is goodbye, but don't worry I'll be seeing you very soon when you're served and split open. Put her in boys
You try to Yelp but the pot is dropped like a roller coaster. You feel the rush of adrenaline as your body is falling in the sky and splashes down into the boiling water. You scream which just allows the water to fill your lungs and cook you from the inside as you squirm in the net and your head pokes out just for a second as you try to grasp for air as that you again sink underneath. Your captor takes a moment to crack some pepper into your pot and close the lid, leaving you to boil alive and become a perfect seafood dinner.
Game over. You were snuffed.
Epilogue:
The sun shines over a large picnic table as you're wheeled out on a metal tray and placed in the center. Your skin is hard and red, cracked open with steam coming out as the brine and other techniques they used created a type of shell like consistency to what was once your soft supple skin. Your face is a broken gasp of agony, your jaw clenched open with your teeth showing and your eye sockets empty as the eyes have boiled out under the pressure, and outline of a red skull with your head jacked completely back during its final gas for oxygen.
A chef walks over and begins to slice you open from the tip of your neck all the way through your c***, with diners lining up with forks around you. They take turns scooping in a fork full of soft flesh, scraping from the inside of your skin to pull out soft tender meat and slide it into their mouths. Some take pictures with your broken body and some make plates, as you're garnished with other seafoods like lobster and crab along with traditional seafood boil fixings.
In the background, a game of volleyball was played and tan, healthy, friendly folks. Frolic and enjoy a perfect summer seafood boil. As the last bits of you are consumed and packed away in bags, what's remains of your shell is casually discarded in a garbage bag and no one even bothered to ask for your name.
After all, when you eat a lobster, you don't come to say hello before you see it dropped into the pot. You also don't wonder about who it was or how it suffered before it was boiled.
Only remark that it was delicious and then move on with your day.
CheckpointsectionCount: trail.length - sectionStart
--
[If sectionCount <=8]
Just as you feel yourself beginning to black out, you remember—despite what you fantasize about, what you crave, and what might even be your fate—you have one thing you absolutely must do before deciding anything else.
You have to save Zoe.
You force a deep breath and gasp air in to clear your vision, take your trembling hand and strike down forcefully on Puma's wrist, breaking her grip on your throat. You forcefully grab her other hand and pull it out of your pants, and slide your leg behind hers as you trip her to the ground.
As she falls, a knife at Puma's left hip pops right out of its sheath and flies into the air. You gasp through watery eyes as it flutters overhead. Reaching out through your blurry vision, you manage to grab it just before it tumbles to the ground.
The room hangs in silence as the precariousness of this moment lingers in the air, the only other thing present is the scent of your near orgasm that is soaked through your pants. You don't linger on it, and kneel down to offer Puma her "Chanir" - a ritualistic blade of her people - and a hand to get her back to her feet.
"Oh my goodness." Jenna says. "If her Chanir had hit the ground..."
"...it would've been to the death, for us, Scarlett." Puma growls.
"I...won't...I have to...save..." You struggle to say through a strained throat, Puma's handprint red across your neck.
"You did well, Scarlett. You didn't make a single mistake," Puma praises. "Although, you've practically basted yourself in just a few seconds with me," she concludes as she sucks your juices off your fingers.
“Yeah, Scarlett…” Jenna says, walking over to console you. “I had no idea that you even fantasized about being—”
“I don't,” you say, trying to force this lie into the truth. “It's just that Puma and I shared a very visceral experience once.”
“It's... it's just... I really need to—” Jenna stammers, closing her eyes as she tries to find the words, as though she's trying to fight her way through a long-standing mental block of her own.
"Hey..." you say to Jenna. "It's something I hope you'll never understand, and that's perfectly okay."
You pull her in for a hug but keep your hips back to avoid increasing your embarrassment by getting your wetness on her, too.
"...Thanks," she says, whatever other words she had planned to say slipping back into her mind. "Puma is right, anyhow. You did perfect. Take this description of Zoe too, just in case."
You nod as you pull away from your friend, and turn to face Puma. As she offers her forearm, you clasp it at the wrist, and you touch foreheads together - a gesture of Puma' people, and of mentor to student, that you've shared for many years.
"I may have gotten sucked in by you, but I survived. Isn't that the test? That I can walk as close to the edge as possible and then pull back?"
"It's your weakness," Puma says, but nods back. "But you're not wrong, either. Perhaps you are finally for the test, for our last lingering question to be answered. To survive this, you'll have to make sacrifices greater than you can possibly imagine."
"I... understand the risks. And the responsibility. I'm going forward. I'm going back to Dolcett."
"That's the spirit, Scar. Well, hmm..." Jenna says, shuffling through her desk. "Or... should I say... Claire. Claire Wood."
"...Who?" you ask.
"It's like Puma said. People would die for the chance to be the one who ate Scarlett Sky. And God forbid that... Charlene... ever found out you were wandering the streets of Dolcett..."
You close your eyes and remember. Your reluctant business partner, whom you forced into a consenting women only arrangement, has tried to trip you up at every turn for the last five years. She's gotten closer to eating you than anyone else, and if not for Jenna, Puma—and a lot of luck—you'd be...
"You're right. She'd have me fitted for an oven at any cost."
"Absolutely. So, let's get you some fake identification. But, and I hate to remind you, we only issue 'Conversion Visas' at SkyCorp. Which means you're being accepted into the country under the expectation that you'll be slaughtered within a week of arrival. So, if you don't have both yourself and the girl out of there by then, a death certificate is automatically issued, and you have no legal standing or ability to leave the country."
"...I understand. It's just like before. No, it's exactly like before. All of this is so strange."
"Strange?" Jenna asks.
"Charlene's disappearance, this Zoe girl being sent in error, and it all happening in the same week—the exact calendar week as five years ago."
Jenna doesn't answer, and Puma turns to stare out the window.
"Oh well, I guess there's no making sense of it now..."
You say as you turn to face the door.
"...It's time for One More Week in Dolcett."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Sunday Night/Monday Morning ->Airplane, Customs Item]]
[else]
Just as you feel yourself beginning to black out, you remember—despite what you fantasize about, what you crave, and what might even be your fate—you have one thing you absolutely must do before deciding anything else.
You have to save Zoe.
You force a deep breath and gasp air in to clear your vision, take your trembling hand and strike down forcefully on Puma's wrist, breaking her grip on your throat. You forcefully grab her other hand and pull it out of your pants, and slide your leg behind hers as you trip her to the ground.
As she falls, a knife at Puma's left hip pops right out of its sheath and flies into the air. You gasp through watery eyes as it flutters overhead. Reaching out through your blurry vision, you manage to grab it just before it tumbles to the ground.
The room hangs in silence as the precariousness of this moment lingers in the air, the only other thing present is the scent of your near orgasm that is soaked through your pants. You don't linger on it, and kneel down to offer Puma her "Chanir" - a ritualistic blade of her people - and a hand to get her back to her feet.
"Oh my goodness." Jenna says. "If her Chanir had hit the ground..."
"...it would've been to the death, for us, Scarlett." Puma growls.
"I...won't...I have to...save..." You struggle to say through a strained throat, Puma's handprint red across your neck.
"Are you sure you're up for this, Scarlett?" Puma says as she sucks your juices off her fingers. "You've practically basted yourself in just a few seconds with me."
“Yeah, Scarlett…” Jenna says, walking over to console you. “I had no idea that you even fantasized about being—”
“I don't,” you say, trying to force this lie into the truth. “It's just that Puma and I shared a very visceral experience once.”
“It's... it's just... I really need to—” Jenna stammers, closing her eyes as she tries to find the words, as though she's trying to fight her way through a long-standing mental block of her own.
"Hey..." you say to Jenna. "It's something I hope you'll never understand, and that's perfectly okay."
You pull her in for a hug but keep your hips back to avoid increasing your embarrassment by getting your wetness on her, too.
"...Thanks," she says, whatever other words she had planned to say slipping back into her mind.
You nod as you pull away from your friend, and turn to face Puma. As she offers her forearm, you clasp it at the wrist, and you touch foreheads together - a gesture of Puma' people, and of mentor to student, that you've shared for many years.
"I may have gotten sucked in by you, but I survived. Isn't that the test? That I can walk as close to the edge as possible and then pull back?"
"It's your weakness," Puma says, but nods back. "But you're not wrong, either. Perhaps you are finally for the test, for our last lingering question to be answered. To survive this, you'll have to make sacrifices greater than you can possibly imagine."
"I... understand the risks. And the responsibility. I'm going forward. I'm going back to Dolcett."
"That's the spirit, Scar. Well, hmm..." Jenna says, shuffling through her desk. "Or... should I say... Claire. Claire Wood."
"...Who?" you ask.
"It's like Puma said. People would die for the chance to be the one who ate Scarlett Sky. And God forbid that... Charlene... ever found out you were wandering the streets of Dolcett..."
You close your eyes and remember. Your reluctant business partner, whom you forced into a consenting women only arrangement, has tried to trip you up at every turn for the last five years. She's gotten closer to eating you than anyone else, and if not for Jenna, Puma—and a lot of luck—you'd be...
"You're right. She'd have me fitted for an oven at any cost."
"Absolutely. So, let's get you some fake identification. But, and I hate to remind you, we only issue 'Conversion Visas' at SkyCorp. Which means you're being accepted into the country under the expectation that you'll be slaughtered within a week of arrival. So, if you don't have both yourself and the girl out of there by then, a death certificate is automatically issued, and you have no legal standing or ability to leave the country."
"...I understand. It's just like before. No, it's exactly like before. All of this is so strange."
"Strange?" Jenna asks.
"Charlene's disappearance, this Zoe girl being sent in error, and it all happening in the same week—the exact calendar week as five years ago."
Jenna doesn't answer, and Puma turns to stare out the window.
"Oh well, I guess there's no making sense of it now..."
You say as you turn to face the door.
"...It's time for One More Week in Dolcett."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Sunday Night/Monday Morning ->Airplane, Customs]]The trail of Zoe's white wedding dress runs all the way down to the door of her dressing room. As she sits in front of a mirror, going over the makeup that a professional spent hours putting together, she can't find her smile.
"This just doesn’t feel right," Zoe says.
An older woman, Zoe's mother, walks over and sits beside her.
"That's because you keep your hair so short. I know you had your head shaved for—what did you say the reason was?"
"Charity, Mom," Zoe says, a smirk flashing across her face, her haircut now similar to Phoenix’s. "I had my head shaved because I was out saving the world."
"Well, there's no need for any of that foolishness anymore. The only world you need to be concerned about is your new husband's…" her mother says, continuing to fluff Zoe's dress. "...you could have at least worn a wig."
"I like it. It makes me feel different."
"Oh, Zoe. You've never been one for being different. And after you're married, I'm sure your husband will insist on you growing it out again."
"I'm sure he'll insist on a lot of things," Zoe says, her eyes wandering out the window.
"Now, Zoe. I don't know WHERE on Earth you learned this new attitude..."
"Dolcett, Mom."
"That joke has never been and never will be funny. Listen to me—we all get cold feet. I even got cold feet when I married your father."
"Really?!" Zoe says, her ears eager for the story.
"But I got over it, and so will you. Serving your husband is a vocation in itself. Brian is a fine man, just like your father."
"Dad doesn't let you leave the house by yourself."
"And I'm better for it. Zoe Sanders, listen to me very closely—if you embarrass us at this wedding, I will NEVER forgive you. Do you understand?"
"...Yes, mother."
*******
Phoenix also stands in front of a mirror, looking very much the same from her head to her neck, but she continues to grab at something around her neckline.
“I don't know about this. It feels like a noose.”
Blueberry rolls her eyes and shakes her hands frantically around Phoenix's head. She points to the door, then stands up tall and gestures as if she's giving a presentation. She then continues to point at her neck and run a finger up and down toward her chest.
“Alright, alright, quit your hollerin'.”
Blueberry nods and smiles with approval as she leans over and tightens the cloth around Phoenix's neck. She steps back, and they look in the mirror together—both of them dressed in powerful, but feminine suits.
“I guess I'm used to leading from the underground. Leading from this position is something that I don't fully understand.”
Blueberry signs something emphatically, a soft gesture on her face. Phoenix’s head lowers.
“No, Blueberry, you’re wrong.” Phoenix says softly. “You’re the one whose always been there for me.”
Blueberry gives Phoenix a hug, and then they turn to look in the mirror one last time.
“Well, I guess if you believe in me, I guess I've got to believe in me, too.”
A knock is heard, and they both turn toward the door. A female assistant wearing a headpiece with a microphone attached to her mouth enters.
It's Jenna.
“We're ready for you, Mistress-”
Phoenix and Blueberry flash a confused look at Jenna.
"Excuse me, I meant..."
Jenna takes a moment to clear her throat.
“…Madame President.”
******
"So, what do you think? Is it everything you ever dreamed of?"
Scarlett looks into a hand mirror that is being held by Asher. She sees herself, trussed in the custom fitted roasting pan that Charlene had made for her. All of her favorite seasonings are sprinkled liberally on her flesh. She’s soaked in a glaze she made herself, after months of trial and error. Underneath, all of her favorite vegetables, that she hand-picked at the farmer’s market this morning, await her drippings.
To top it all off, just like in all of her fantasies, an apple is stuffed firmly in her mouth.
Scarlett moans and nods to Asher in approval.
"Yeah, I thought so too. You look divine. Good enough to eat. This is exactly how I wanted it, too, in every one of my fantasies."
"Mine too." Scarlett says through her apple.
The oven timer beeps loudly to break the tension in the room. Asher looks over at the awaiting appliance, and then to Scarlett, a grin rising on his face as his hand slides across her thigh.
"I guess there's still time for one last stuffing. But after that, I'm putting your ass in the oven to roast. We are going to fulfill both of our greatest desires tonight.”
********
Zoe paces back and forth in her dressing room. Every few moments, she makes a rush for the door, but then hesitates and steps back, shaking her head.
“Why does making the big decisions have to be so hard?” she says to herself in the mirror.
She hears two knocks behind her, and the door opens before she even has a chance to vocalize her consent for someone to enter.
As she turns, she sees her future husband Brian walking in.
“Hey. I know it’s bad luck and all, but…”
“I don’t believe in luck,” Zoe says, looking back at herself.
“Since when, babe? I just wanted to come in here because your mom said you were having a hard time.”
“I was never having a hard time. I was just trying to think.”
“Yeah, you’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately.” Brian says dismissively.
“Brian…if I was in trouble—like, really in trouble—would you save me?”
“…What kind of trouble are we talking about?” he jokes.
Zoe lowers her eyes.
“HEY now.” Brian says, walking over to stand behind Zoe, kissing her on the cheek. “You know me, babe. Of course I would. Anything for you.”
“Even if my life was in danger?”
“Zoe…”
Brian wraps his arms around Zoe’s waist, and they stare in the mirror together, a picture perfect portrait of a couple on their wedding day.
“I need to know if you got into some type of danger on your girl’s trip. It’s really important that you tell me…”
Zoe holds back a tear.
“It’s just that…” she whispers.
“…because it could REALLY affect our prenup.” He says coldly.
“It’s nothing. Really. I’m fine.” Zoe says as she pushes him off, staring out the window.
“Good. I’ll see you out there. And hey, think about it this way – once you walk down that aisle, you won’t have to worry about making any decisions ever again. I promise.”
**********
An impatient gathering of women stands with their arms crossed, looking uncomfortable in a celebration that is very much about them. Alongside them are some men, looking bitter and frustrated, not used to the integrated environment where they stand shoulder to shoulder with women—uncollared, umarried women-who are now their equals.
The tension and frustration threatens to boil over at any moment.
Music plays as Phoenix walks along the side of the stage towards the empty podium. As she looks up at the waiting lectern, she reaches in her pocket and pulls out her vape, but pauses just before she presses it into her mouth.
“I can’t ask them to change if I can’t change.”
She throws her vape away as Blueberry links arms and walks her up the steps to the stage. Jenna stands just across, monitoring a screen that controls the camera angle, on-screen text, and social media metrics across the country.
“Good afternoon, everyone, and thank you for joining me on this very historic day. Since the dawn of time in the country of Dolcett, women have been regulated to one existence—consumption - that has defined the relationships between the two genders for generations. Three months ago, we asked a simple question: What if women could be more? What if all of us could have a choice not only in our ultimate outcome, but in our growth, our decisions, as well as how we manifest our desire? These are questions we still try to answer even on this day, as we continue to build a new world together.”
Jenna nods as Phoenix’s address does well on its first social media shares.
“Together is the most important word I will say today. I will admit that I was skeptical when asked if I would take the ballot to be elected as the first woman leader of this country. It was hard for me to move past my own trauma, my first instinct to construct a world where men would atone for what they’ve done to so many women…”
Jenna looks up as Phoenix’s social media reactions turn negative. Jenna looks to Blueberry and flashes the sign language for “Now.”
Blueberry flashes the same message to Phoenix, who nods.
“…but, I met a woman who inspired me to learn, change, grow, and be different. To not see my experiences as a score to settle, but as the foundation on which I could help build a new world. A world where women find their voices for the first time. And alongside them, strong men who are willing to listen.”
Phoenix pauses for a second as she sees tears flow down Blueberry’s face. She turns to comfort her, but Blueberry is not looking at Phoenix, but somewhere in the crowd ahead. Phoenix scans the crowd and sees a woman waiving back, a woman who bears a striking resemble to Blueberry, even down to the scar at her neck.
Her sister.
“We are in a period of transition. We all have an opportunity to come out of this as stronger than the sum of our parts. If we work together, our legacies do not have to be defined by whom we consume or by whom we are consumed, but rather by our connection to each other and what we are willing to give of ourselves to serve the greater good. That is my commitment to you – to never stop thinking with an open mind, to look at every person next to you as a teacher, and for all of us to be willing to try – together.”
The crowd erupts in cheers as Phoenix’s speech plays on television all across Dolcett, even through the bars of a jail cell, where Baron Louis Bouvier watches. His attention is grabbed for a moment as the prison horn sounds, and a new inmate is led to the cell across from him.
“What are you in for?” he asks, his eyes still locked on the TV.
“Oh, it’s SUCH a dreadful tale of betrayal, darling….”
***
The smacking of wet flesh echoes through Scarlett's kitchen as Asher mounts her trussed body. Asher stares deeply into Scarlett’s soul, his hand cradling the back of her head, as he thrusts roughly into her soaked cunt, pounding her so hard that the kitchen table cracks across the center.
“I’m going to fucking eat you, Scarlett. I’m going to roast you in your own fucking oven and I’m going to eat every last bit of you like you’ve always wanted. There isn’t going to be anything left of you, you understand?”
He pulls her apple out and holds her by the jaw, the shared look between them ravenous.
“I want you to eat me, Asher. Eat me the fuck up and then boil my bones for soup. I want to be fully, utterly consumed. I want it tonight. Do you fucking hear me? Roast me alive tonight in my own oven and make sure I’m the most delicious thing you’ve ever fucking eaten.”
Asher’s thrusting becomes even more intense, a jackhammering force as he thrusts all of his weight between Scarlett’s legs. Her pussy clenches down on every inch of his cock in response, and she feels him swell even thicker.
Their bodies tense up together, their breath pausing in a mirror image as they scream out a shared orgasm, the pair moaning like animals in heat at the climax of the exact scene they’ve dreamt up thousands of times.
Asher collapses on Scarlett, his shirt and pants soaked in sauce, and for a moment, they share a close, intimate, quiet moment.
BEEP.
The oven sounds again, impatient, ready for the moment of finality to take place.
“Well, there's only one thing left to do now…” Asher says.
“I’m ready.” Scarlett says, her last words before Asher places the apple back in her mouth.
******
Zoe stands in front of the two doors that will open in just a moment to welcome her into the ceremony where she will be married. She holds the bouquet against her chest, her veil obscuring her true expression. She keeps her head down and prepares to march forward toward the dream and destiny she’s always wanted.
At least, before she found herself on her journey to Dolcett.
Zoe’s father links arms with her, ready to walk her down the aisle.
“You look so beautiful, Zoe. I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“But, the real question is, princess – are YOU happy?”
Zoe pulls back her veil to reveal the tears that have dried on her cheeks.
“Oh, dad, I just don’t know about this. I don’t know if Brian is right for m-“
Zoe’s father pulls her in for a hug and rocks her back in forth. Zoe pulls her head up, eager to speak.
“Do you understand what I’m saying, dad? I just need more time. Please. Back me up on this.”
“Zoe, you know I’d do anything to help you. You know that, right?”
Zoe smiles, nodding, as she wipes her tears off her face, her smile returning for the first time in weeks.
“And that’s why I’m going to walk you down the aisle, right now, before you make a terrible mistake.”
He gives Zoe’s arm a tug and they begin to walk forward.
“I really thought…you’d be my one person…” Zoe mutters as she drapes the veil back over her face.
Here Comes The Bride plays as the doors to the church open, with Zoe seeing hundreds of guests, most of which she barely knows, staring back at her. Her heart beats through her chest, her feet feeling heavier with each step forward.
Just as she’s about to cross the threshold into the chapel, the sun shining through a nearby window is obscured by a dark cloud. Wind howls just above Zoe, circling around the area in which she stands. As she looks up, a flower pot holding the same flowers in her hands tumbles off a ledge and shatters on the floor.
There is a collective gasp through the church as the music stops. Brian raises his arms and frustration and slowly walks down from the altar to the archway.
“What a terrible coincidence.” Zoe’s father says.
Zoe’s eyes drift back up to the window, the wind still screaming outside. Her hand drifts down her left thigh, underneath her dress, to her garter belt.
“My people don’t believe in coincidences…” Zoe whispers.
“Come along, Zoe. It’s time.” Brian frustratingly says, extending his hand for Zoe to follow him into the church, and into marriage.
But her hand does not reach out to meet his across the threshold of marriage. It instead wraps tightly around what’s tucked at her left thigh.
The handle of Puma’s Chanir.
She looks up, a single tear streaming down her face, and as she speaks, her voice sounds like the wind itself.
“…the forest has spoken…”
*****
Phoenix continues her speech in front of the same gathering of men and women, and yet they are already changed. They are standing closer together, their expressions lighter, hopeful, but most of all – they believe in a brighter future.
Jenna looks over her screen one last time.
“Stick the landing, Phoenix. You can DO this,” Jenna cheers through her headset.
Blueberry continues to sneak looks at her sister, but looks to Phoenix and gives her signature thumbs up in encouragement.
Phoenix smiles at her team as she turns to her constituents.
“I can think of no greater example of the world we are trying to build than by honoring the person we have gathered here to commemorate. It was through her vision that women in this country were first able to see what a woman can accomplish when she puts her mind to it. That we all can be bold. We all can be creative. That we are capable of imagination and dreams – to tell stories that can influence a generation.
“I’m honored to gather with you today to open this fantastic facility, which will educate, incentivize, and give opportunities to women throughout this country to think big, chase their dreams, and contribute the deepest parts of their souls to us all.
“Thank you so much.”
The crowd roars, men and women alike, as Phoenix finishes her speech. She walks over in front of a red ribbon, and is handed a giant pair of scissors. She gestures for Blueberry to have the honors, and Blueberry cuts the red ribbon as the cheering shakes the glass on the newly constructed building.
Phoenix puts an arm over Blueberry’s shoulder, and together they look up at the building’s signage:
The Dee Elizabeth White Memorial Women’s Library and Writing Center.
***********************
Asher rolls Scarlett over to her waiting oven on cart, both of them still lost in post orgasmic bliss. As the door opens, and the heat blasts on Scarlett’s skin, she softly moans, locking eyes with Asher one last time. She nods to symbolize her readiness to fully immerse herself in her final moment, cooked and served to the person she cares about the most.
It’s just like she fantasized about—she’s given up complete control to someone who wants this just as much as she does. To someone who appreciates the moment—no, her—as much as she appreciates them.
What on Earth could ever be better?
Asher slides a large kitchen knife off the top of the stove and allows the blade to kiss at her flesh. He presses the tip at her belly, and her breathing quickens, ready for the moment of finality that will follow. Her eyes slam shut, and she bites down on the apple, focused on keeping herself still to not ruin any of Asher’s soon to be meat.
She hears a cutting sound, but does not feel anything. She opens one eye and sees Asher cutting her binds lose, just as he closes the oven door.
She squints at him, and a smile forms on his face.
“Had you going for a minute there, didn’t I?” He says as he removes her apple.
“I mean, you know me.” Scarlett says. “The more real it feels, the more I get off on it. Speaking of – that was an AMAZING fuck.”
“Yeah, shit, I don’t think I’ve ever cum as hard in my life. Was I verbal enough this time?” Asher inquires.
“Well, you can still be a little meaner for my tastes. Maybe try smacking me in the mouth next time?” Scarlett says with a wink.
“I can do that, but I need you to be my good fucking girl and beg a little harder.”
They share a passionate kiss, that ends with them staring into each other’s eyes. Asher helps Scarlett out of the pan, both of them soaked in sauce, seasonings, and sex. He checks his watch.
“Well, I got us a reservation at that new Sushi place down the street. We should have just enough time to get washed up and head down there. I invited the Fisher’s.” Asher shares.
“Sushi?! You do know how I can appreciate a meal fresh to the kill.” Scarlett says with a girlish smile. “And, I really like them. They’re fun. You’re just so good to me, Asher.”
“You deserve it, Scarlett. You deserve the world. I just…”
Asher slides his hands in his pockets, blushing a bit.
“…I just love you so much.”
Scarlett feels a place opening inside her that she has kept locked for many years. She felt it necessary, as head of SkyCorp, to always maintain an emotional distance, but now, an emotional warmth floods through her. She feels her need for the heat of an oven replaced by the warmth of an internal hearth—a specific emotion kindled between her and Asher, with a fire that feels never-ending.
“I love you too.”
THE END.
*****
ENDING GRADE: A
[[Advance to: Credits ->Credits]]You don't let Leikr out of your sight, standing tall as he slithers back behind the wall of police, tears welling in his eyes as blood pours down his face. His broken knee swells in real time.
The police look down at him in confusion and frustration, still in shock at how resoundingly he was thrashed. Then, the lead officer gets a radio call, listens, and nods.
"Got it. All right. We are going to clear these ones out. We'll deal with the consequences of whether their protest was allowed or not later. Take them down."
The officers line up in a straight line, with the parade onlookers scattering behind you.
"Should have killed them while you had the chance," Puma says.
"Phoenix, any suggestions? It won’t be hard to pick us out – we are the only naked ones here," you quickly ask.
"I always thought this was a possibility. To be honest, I wasn't sure we'd make it this far. I think..."
Just as Phoenix lowers her head, blueberry walks over and gives Phoenix a hug, a soft embrace that communicates an understanding of what she is about to say next.
"...I think that our sacrifice here will make a difference... someday."
You look over to Zoe.
"I'm sorry I wasn't able to save you."
"That's not true, Scarlett. I'm more alive in this moment than I've ever been. I'm grateful to have stood beside you."
You lower your head, moved by her words.
"Still, I would have liked to bring you home."
You hear the rifles being readied as the women around you lock arms. The police captain raises his arm, then drops it.
Gunfire rains through the town square as you, Phoenix, Puma, Blueberry, Zoe, and the LFD are gunned down in a massacre—the implications of which will rattle this nation forever.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
The largest pot ever commissioned in Dolcett's history, large enough to feed thousands of people, simmers with chili in the Town Square days after the massacre. Blood is still stained on the sidewalk that people line up for miles to get a taste of the flesh of the LFD that has all been mixed into the pot. You and all of your friends have been cooked together, served as consolation to the victims who had to bear witness to your “terrorist uprising.” In fact, a bowl is offered to any citizens in Dolcett to help them move on from the traumatic events of Dolcett Day.
Leikr is there, parading around as usual, trying to maintain his high profile. But men no longer look him in the eye, and women look at him with disgust. As the days go by, he realizes that his legacy has crumbled. Whatever respect he once managed to garner is completely gone as he limps around in his broken body.
He is never again seen or treated as someone worthy of respect.
The women whisper to one another in hushed tones about the possibility of standing up for their rights someday. Over the next few years, different underground groups smuggle women out of hopeless situations and offer them new opportunities. Rebellions break out over the following decades, and exactly 46 years after the massacre at the Town Square, women finally rise up and take control of the country of Dolcett for themselves.
You and your compatriots are hailed as heroes who inspired a country to change. At the dedication of the new nation, people wonder whether the change could have happened sooner if things had been slightly different.
But in this timeline, you are a pot of chili, topped with cheese and consumed one bite at a time by people eager to get a little revenge for the suffering you've caused on their precious holiday.
ENDING GRADE: B
****************
[[Checkpoint: Friday, City Center ->Duel One]]“I’m ready. I’m finally ready. Roast me. Please.” You say lustfully, breathing just as heavily as Zoe beside you.
You say it so convincingly that you feel your eyes cross a bit as you begin to believe it. But, Charlene’s smile is proof enough that your plan is working – as she clearly believes she has won.
But then, something happens that makes you shake down to your core.
Char holds her hand in front of your face, putting down fingers until she has only two, THOSE two, in front of your eyes, before she draws her hand back and lines them up with your pussy.
You only breathe heavily in response.
“Consider this a glow up at 350 degrees. I'm going to self-actualize the fuck out of you until the little timer pops out to let me know you're good and..."
She slips her two fingers inside you.
"...all done."
The release of pleasure is beyond orgasmic; an indescribable rush of sexuality that breaks the boundaries of what you ever thought was possible.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh...oh..."
Charlene milks an orgasm out of your body that destroys any remaining rationale thought, shattering your remaining resistance into tiny pieces, scattered in your subconscious. As you squirt all the way down her forearm, years of edging being set free, your body explodes like you’re experiencing every single fantasy you’ve had over the last five years happening all at once.
It is a literal rapture of climax, severing your existence as Scarlett Sky entirely from your body, leaving only an aching, yearning, lusting animal, craving just one more thing to bring finality to this moment. There might have been as sliver of yourself left if you hadn’t consented right before she slid inside you, but your own words wiped away any remaining resistance you could’ve ever had.
"Now." Charlene says. "Tell me that you-"
"PLEASE roast me right now. Please. I need to feel the heat."
"That's better. It would've been a crime to let you go the rest of your life not knowing how good THAT felt. Deep down, you call it surrender, or being conquered, or broken, but I call it - the calling of your soul, realized."
She sucks your juices off her fingers, nodding to herself.
"It's time for you to release, accept, and find bliss in the only place you've ever dreamt of..."
She nods to Jenna who loads you and Zoe on a rolling cart.
"...your oven."
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
EPILOGUE:
As the oven door closes, you know there will be no getting out of this one. You let your head rest back, soaking in the moment of surrender and your greatest fantasy come true. Seconds turn into minutes as you roast away, Zoe expiring long before you do, as you try and stretch your final moments as long as possible, savoring the moment.
As you turn your head out to peer out the oven window, eager to see Char’s face one last time, you see that she is distracted by something. You see her straighten her blouse as Jenna walks another pair of legs in her home, the new guest shuffling in her a pocket for something.
A vape cart.
Phoenix.
You try to scream as loudly as you can through the apple that’s been jammed in your throat, but the sound echoes back at you. Instead, you watch helplessly as Charlene’s hand attempts to graze Phoenix’s thigh a couple of times, only for Phoenix’s hand to politely redirect it. But, Charlene is getting closer every time.
You remember your conversation with Phoenix Thursday morning, taking some comfort in the fact that you warned her about Charlene.
But then, you remember that the conversation was interrupted before you could tell her WHO to stay away from.
You hear a muffled laugh that becomes shared between them, and your heart begins to sink. The next time Charlene steps forward, Phoenix does not step back, and as their legs begin to cross, you see Charlene's hand slips behind Phoenix's back and pulls her in close.
You watch as Charlene's fingers slithers down the small of her back, across her side, down her butt, and then in front of her legs. You can hear a muffled kissing, a smacking of lips on neck, and you brace yourself to witness the inevitable. You weren’t able to resist Charlene, and either is Phoenix, as you watch Charlene’s fingers slip up and inside of Phoenix's pants.
The moan that is released vibrates through your oven, cementing Phoenix's fate at Charlene's puppet.
You let your head lie back on your roasting tray.
You realize that everything you thought you’d won, you’ve now lost. The new leader of Dolcett will be controlled by Charlene. Jenna will control imports of all women from across the world into the one place where they can be eaten, under the guise of a freedom granted by Phoenix that no longer exists. Nothing will change except the players at hand.
Dolcett will indeed be ruled by a woman, but a woman with a ferocity that would make any man blush.
You feel the light from the oven window get a little darker, and you see that Charlene, Jenna, and Phoenix are all watching you. Phoenix stares at you intently, licking her lips at your golden-brown flesh, enraptured by the thought of eating you.
The little banquet that follows stages the future of Dolcett for decades to come. After your and Zoe’s flesh is consumed, it is on to bigger and better plans.
Phoenix gives her first presidential announcement months later as she takes control of Dolcett. She notes that women will now decide the fate of all laws in Dolcett. Men are immediately brought under women’s control as lower-class citizens; they no longer have any standing and are used only to grow the female population. In this new hierarchy, only a select group of powerful women are allowed the privilege of eating other women. Livestock, slavery, and unwilling slaughter all continue, with Charlene being the unseen master of a new government—with Phoenix simply a figurehead.
Women are excited to have their own leader and don’t notice how little has changed. They resign themselves to the life they already knew, but with a new, familiar face. Charlene had brought you to Dolcett to simply take over and expand, but through the opportunity you placed in her lap, she now rules the entire country.
In death, you’ve not only failed to save Zoe, but you’ve left the world an impossibly worse place—a more dire state of affairs for innocent women than at any point when you were alive.
ENDING GRADE: E
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Saturday AM, Charlene's Kitchen ->HomeC Clean]]"Alright, you win. I came here to save Zoe, and if this is how I do it, I'm willing to accept the trade off." You say, an uneasiness forming in your stomach. "I don't know where they're at, but I can tell you how we can find them."
The Baron leans in.
"And how is that?"
"I have the direct line to their hideout. They told me a password I can give if I ever need help. If they don't give up the information about where they are, they'll tell me how to find them. You can just take it from there."
"YOU will make the call, right here. Once I am satisfied, you'll be on your way back to North Carolina."
You take a cell phone from one of the Baron's aides and make the call. You pass the security questions, and receive the meet up coordinates. All of this is overheard by an aide, who eagerly takes notes and nods along to another aide who begins to organize a strike plan.
You lower your head in shame at your betrayal of someone who admitted to you just a day ago that YOU inspired her to go on living and change the world, and you didn't even have the courage to offer her the same.
"You've made a very wise choice, Scarlett Sky." The Baron says as he rises from his seat, a smug smile growing as excitement builds on his face. "And you'll find that I'm a man of my word."
He snaps his fingers and a phone call is made to a premium airline concierge number. Within minutes, you hear plane tickets - first class to North Carolina, departing in just 2 hours for you and Zoe to finally go home. A limo pulls up just as his departs, and as you look over your shoulder at every step through the airport, expecting the other shoe to drop, none does, and you step on to the plane to finally return home.
GAME OVER. YOU SAVED ZOE.
Epilogue:
As you sit on the plane being served your first of several meals in the first class section on your long flight home, you can't help but stare out the vacant window. Zoe sits alongside of you, a blank stare at her eyes as well. You're clearly going home, clearly not been tricked, you've succeeded at your mission, and yet...
"I'm just not sure if I've done the right thing..." You say to no one in particular, but in earshot of Zoe
"Yeah... don't get me wrong, Scarlett, I really do appreciate it. I thought for SURE that I was going to die. But, even though you saved me, you gave someone up to save me, right?
"Not just one person, Zoe."
"They were bad people, though, right? Criminals, right?
"They did operate outside the law. But they did so because they wanted to make the world a better place. Phoenix was just...misunderstood."
"What do you think they'll do to her?"
"I don't want to think about it, to be honest. I just know that you're an innocent, that you're safe, and then you're going to go home to your husband."
"And I'm going to get married. I'd really like for you to be there Scarlett. You've done so much for me. I'm hoping we can be friends after this."
"...I don't have a lot of friends. It's hard in my line of work to have the time. I think I'll mostly be focused on keeping other innocent girls safe as well. Sorry."
"It's okay. Just, Don't be so hard on yourself. You're not some superhero, after all."
"Yeah..."
******
Hours later, as Zoe sleeps next to you, you skim the channels on the screen embedded on the chair in front of you to kill time. You suddenly stop on a cable news channel dedicated to Dolcett, and look on as you see the Baron giving a news conference. You feel yourself near throw up as you notice who is next him, on her knees, stripped naked, with her head down.
It's Phoenix.
The camera makes sure to get a clear shot of her broken, terrified, nearly pale expression, her body quaking with fear. A collar at her neck connects to a leash that is held by the Baron tightly, with her hands and ankles shackled. She makes no effort to escape, any hope of any destiny other than what happens next completely lost from her soul.
"I'm proud to announce that the long terror that has plaqued our community for years has finally ended. Thanks to my own ingenuity, I have finally caught and put to a permanent end the terrorist group known as 'Ladies for Dolcett.' This group has disrupted peace, harmony, and our way of life for too long."
He pulls Phoenix's leash tigher and then dog, throwing her to the floor. She doesn't bother to try getting up, she just stares vacantly as her lip trembles. The baron places a foot on her back.
"Countless lives were ruined as this radical group continued to spoil perfectly supple meat with their reckless, aggressive, and uncivilized acts. But, finally, all of that has come to an end. The local authorities have found it suitable that I decide the fate of THIS one, their so-called-leader. And I have devised a suitable punishment."
A graphic is displayed on the screen behind the Baron. On it shows the city center of Dolcett, with the main street leading into the city center. There are parade floats on the street that appear to be marching towards the square.
The graphic is oddly similar to the crude map that Phoenix was studying in the LFD Underground.
"I have decided that on Dolcett Day, the LFD traitors will be paraded down the street just as they had planned, foolishly, to interrupt this Friday. At the city square, THIS ONE..."
He digs his heel into Phoenix's back.
"...will watch as her followers are executed one by one and prepared for a banquet that is free to the public to attend, at my expense. Once she has watched every single one of her vagrants turned into meat, then, she will join them on the platter."
He pulls Phoenix up to her feet, and pulls her close to his face, to which she pathetically looks into his eyes.
"You're going to change history, alright. You're going to be remembered as an example of what happens to women who dare step out of line and your slaughter will keep women in their place for generations to come."
You jam the power button on the screen until it turns off. You see your own reflection in the now blank screen, and can't stand who you see looking back. You succeeded in Saving Zoe, but somehow, you've also utterly failed.
Ending grade: C
[[Checkpoint: Back at the Hotel ->Hotel Invitation to Dine]]Your finger trembles as you slow press the digits to call the Baron's number. Someone answers on the first ring.
"It's Scarlett. I've changed my mind. I'll help you find Phoenix." You say, an uneasiness forming in your stomach. "Just get Zoe and I on the first plane out of here."
You're told to call back with their whereabouts. You hang up, and make the call. You pass the security questions, and receive the meet up coordinates. You call the Baron back, and you feel your voice stammer as you give out their information, sealing their fate.
You lower your head in shame at your betrayal of someone who admitted to you just a day ago that YOU inspired her to go on living and change the world, and you didn't even have the courage to offer her the same.
"You've made a very wise choice, Scarlett Sky." The Baron says on speakerphone. "And you'll find that I'm a man of my word."
The phone hangs up. You sit for two minutes, trying to process what you've done,b before you receive a call that a limo is waiting downstairs for you. As you arrive at the airport, you're taken to a private security entrance, handed first class entrance, and...
...you're reunited with Zoe, who is crying as she jumps into your arms. As you look over your shoulder at every step through the airport, expecting the other shoe to drop, none does, and you step on to the plane to finally return home.
GAME OVER. YOU SAVED ZOE.
Epilogue:
As you sit on the plane being served your first of several meals in the first class section on your long flight home, you can't help but stare out the vacant window. Zoe sits alongside of you, a blank stare at her eyes as well. You're clearly going home, clearly not been tricked, you've succeeded at your mission, and yet...
"I'm just not sure if I've done the right thing..." You say to no one in particular, but in earshot of Zoe
"Yeah... don't get me wrong, Scarlett, I really do appreciate it. I thought for SURE that I was going to die. But, even though you saved me, you gave someone up to save me, right?
"Not just one person, Zoe."
"They were bad people, though, right? Criminals, right?
"They did operate outside the law. But they did so because they wanted to make the world a better place. Phoenix was just...misunderstood."
"What do you think they'll do to her?"
"I don't want to think about it, to be honest. I just know that you're an innocent, that you're safe, and then you're going to go home to your husband."
"And I'm going to get married. I'd really like for you to be there Scarlett. You've done so much for me. I'm hoping we can be friends after this."
"...I don't have a lot of friends. It's hard in my line of work to have the time. I think I'll mostly be focused on keeping other innocent girls safe as well. Sorry."
"It's okay. Just, Don't be so hard on yourself. You're not some superhero, after all."
"Yeah..."
******
Hours later, as Zoe sleeps next to you, you skim the channels on the screen embedded on the chair in front of you to kill time. You suddenly stop on a cable news channel dedicated to Dolcett, and look on as you see the Baron giving a news conference. You feel yourself near throw up as you notice who is next him, on her knees, stripped naked, with her head down.
It's Phoenix.
The camera makes sure to get a clear shot of her broken, terrified, nearly pale expression, her body quaking with fear. A collar at her neck connects to a leash that is held by the Baron tightly, with her hands and ankles shackled. She makes no effort to escape, any hope of any destiny other than what happens next completely lost from her soul.
"I'm proud to announce that the long terror that has plaqued our community for years has finally ended. Thanks to my own ingenuity, I have finally caught and put to a permanent end the terrorist group known as 'Ladies for Dolcett.' This group has disrupted peace, harmony, and our way of life for too long."
He pulls Phoenix's leash tigher and then dog, throwing her to the floor. She doesn't bother to try getting up, she just stares vacantly as her lip trembles. The baron places a foot on her back.
"Countless lives were ruined as this radical group continued to spoil perfectly supple meat with their reckless, aggressive, and uncivilized acts. But, finally, all of that has come to an end. The local authorities have found it suitable that I decide the fate of THIS one, their so-called-leader. And I have devised a suitable punishment."
A graphic is displayed on the screen behind the Baron. On it shows the city center of Dolcett, with the main street leading into the city center. There are parade floats on the street that appear to be marching towards the square.
The graphic is oddly similar to the crude map that Phoenix was studying in the LFD Underground.
"I have decided that on Dolcett Day, the LFD traitors will be paraded down the street just as they had planned, foolishly, to interrupt this Friday. At the city square, THIS ONE..."
He digs his heel into Phoenix's back.
"...will watch as her followers are executed one by one and prepared for a banquet that is free to the public to attend, at my expense. Once she has watched every single one of her vagrants turned into meat, then, she will join them on the platter."
He pulls Phoenix up to her feet, and pulls her close to his face, to which she pathetically looks into his eyes.
"You're going to change history, alright. You're going to be remembered as an example of what happens to women who dare step out of line and your slaughter will keep women in their place for generations to come."
You jam the power button on the screen until it turns off. You see your own reflection in the now blank screen, and can't stand who you see looking back. You succeeded in Saving Zoe, but somehow, you've also utterly failed.
Ending grade: C
[[Checkpoint: Back at the Hotel ->Hotel Invitation to Dine]]"You know what? Even training with you, Puma, is dangerous, and I don't think I'm up for even that. I don't know what I was even thinking, saying that I should be the one going to Dolcett. I'm too valuable, too needed here. It would be wrong to place all the burden of responsibility for saving the women, not only in North Carolina but in America, in Jenna's hands."
"What? You're not even going to try?" Jenna says, the level of shock in her voice carrying a meaning that seems to go beyond what she said, but you don't fully grasp.
"Coward," Puma says. "She's your responsibility. You said it yourself."
"Yeah, but I guess I'm not up for it. Puma, you can go look for her. Check in with us and let us know if you can bring her back. You're better equipped for the task."
Puma scoffs and leaves the office. You sit down at your desk and go back to doing paperwork. Jenna seems to stare blankly at you for a while before shaking her head and rushing off to her private office.
GAME OVER. YOU ARE EATEN.
Epilogue:
You never hear back from Puma about whether she finds the missing girl or not. You actually never hear back from Puma at all, and she never returns to North Carolina, mysteriously dropping out of her role as bodyguard and never being seen by you again. Jenna suddenly quits her job shortly afterward as well, and you realize you've lost the only friend you've had in years. You try your best to explain yourself, but you just keep insisting that you needed to go. People tell you she's taking on a new position.
You need someone to be your secondary fallback in the event that you die, to keep your positions safe. But without Jenna, you don't have anyone you can trust. You also don't want to place the burden of having to carry out this task on someone else's shoulders.
So you put it off. A week passes, and after some brief civil unrest in Dulcet, you decide it's not worth anyone else's life to be tied to this business.
Your life doesn't continue for much longer, either. The following week, as you head into work, you find your office door mysteriously open. As you go in, trying to check your surroundings, you realize you don't have anyone to watch your back as you feel a pinch at your neck.
You wake up in the same place that you had your last dream. But this time, it's not a dream, and when the oven timer dings, you are slid out, roasted golden brown.
ENDING GRADE: D
****************************************
[[Checkpoint: Story Begins ->Intro]]No, sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm just in a rush... I'm meeting a friend for dinner."
"Just my luck. The second convert today, and I don't get to eat either of them."
Your eyes widen as you realize who he is referencing.
"Oh, actually, that's my friend. Zoe Sanders. I'm going up to see her as soon as we're done here."
"Well, you won't find her there. She's gone."
You feel your stomach turn and your heart sink.
"Gone?!" you say in a heap, realizing you may already be too late.
"Gone to dinner, I mean," he says, shaking his head as he stares out through the glass atrium toward the street. "I remember her. One of those innocent, bubbly, sweet-as-pie types. I can't imagine how she's lived this long, but I can promise you she won't live much longer. That girl can be talked into anything. Well, almost anything..."
"Do you have any idea where she went?" you ask eagerly.
"Yeah, she asked me for restaurant recommendations, and as I wasn't able to talk her into being eaten by yours truly... well, I did the next best thing."
He leans in and brings a hand to the side of his mouth to conceal what he's saying.
"I sent her to Cochinillo Assado. It's an upscale place down the street. The way I see it, if she gets herself slaughtered by the house, I can head down there when my shift ends and have some of her myself."
"Cochinillo Assado, got it. Thanks." You frantically reach into your pocket and put the address into your GPS.
"Say... you're on the same visa..." Kyle says, his eyes locked on your ass again. "Why don't we go down there together, and you and your friend can digest in the same stomach? It's not every day I see such a thick rump," he says with a sly grin.
"No, thank you. I'm, um, saving my, um, ham for someone else," you say as the phone's walking directions indicate ten minutes. "Please have my bags brought up, and I'll be back for my room key later."
**************************************************
You don't walk but run down the street, not worried about how you look, because what matters is how the girl is going to be served if you're too late. You push that image out of your mind and visualize saving her instead, nearly running past the entrance to Cochinillo Assado. As you grip the door and open it, swinging through the night air and into the atmosphere of the restaurant, there is more than just a scene change taking place.
Your memories from five years ago come rushing back.
It starts with an aroma—to the untrained nose, it smells like roasted beef or pork. You feel yourself begin to sweat, your breath getting shorter as your eyes race back and forth, noting to yourself what, or who, is being eaten.
Every single dish you look at appears innocent, traditional, and delicious—the same varieties of meals you enjoy at home, but all served with one specific distinction. The animal that the meat was harvested from was someone who looked and thought exactly like you, and because they weren't careful enough, were born into the wrong social class, or trusted the wrong person, they ended up as someone's dinner.
You try to get a grip on yourself. The chatter in the restaurant is hypnotic. The sound of clanging plates, forks, and knives seems to call your name. The scent of women who have been fire-roasted and consumed fills your nose—the mixing of herbs, spices, flavorings, sauces, and meat. You try to shut your eyes, close your ears, and pinch yourself to wake yourself up and realize why you've come here: not to end up on a platter, but to save Zoe Sanders and bring her home.
It's one thing to race in here. It's another to be on a rescue mission with good intentions. But there's a real danger here. If you're not careful and don't watch closely for the customs of this place, it could be you who is brought out on the next plate.
This simple mission is already very, very complicated. You walk up to the hostess stand, but you also begin to scan the restaurant, trying to see if you can pick out the woman you're trying to save based on what you know about her. Time is of the essence. You must take action immediately—if you don't choose correctly, whatever time she has left will run out.
[[There's a six-top that has five people currently seated. They appear to be around college aged. ->Take a Drink]]
[[There's a couple sitting at the bar. The girl, mid-thirties, is giggling as a much older man in his sixties points to the menu. ->Wrong Girl]]
[[You decide to ask the hostess stand for help. ->Hostess Too Late]]
[if hasPhoto]
[[Item Choice: You quickly read Jenna's description of Zoe. There's a couple potential matches at the six-top table. ->Take a Drink Item]]sectionCount: trail.length - sectionStart
--
[If sectionCount <=5]
It takes every bit of restraint in your mind to stop your body from overpowering you and rushing out on instinct to save Dee. You want to, but you know what's really going on – her husband is armed and waiting, and he's using Dee as bait. You, on the other hand, are naked, soaked in your own juices, and your muscles are nearly fork tender after being cooked for several minutes in a hot oven.
*There's nothing I can do to save her...*
You watch as her husband slowly walks out and stands over her, shaking his head. He lights a cigarette and takes a drag before pulling out his phone and making a call.
“Hey, Bill. It’s Case. I’d like to move up our plans for little Miss Dee to tonight. I’ll pay extra for same-day service. I already have the plaque. Yes, see you tonight. Thanks.”
You watch as Dee starts to cry, still trying to crawl away. Case puts out his cigarette on her back, with Dee screaming out, and you nearly rush out again, the bush shaking enough to get Case’s attention for a second.
He then scoffs and dials another number.
“Hey, baby. Guess what? Well, little ol’ Dee lost her mind, and I caught her helping a meat girl escape. I know. Yes, I fixed her. Looks like you won’t be roasting her for Dolcett Day after all. That’s right. You can move in TONIGHT, actually…”
Case kicks Dee in her shattered ribs, Dee rolling over in pain as he examines her torn torso.
“I’m afraid I ruined some of her good parts. No, her legs are still good. Rump too. Shoulder. Yeah, but we need to serve twelve. Well, eleven now. Oh, I’ve never had that. Family recipe? Sounds delicious. See you soon. Love you.”
Dee wails at the sound of hearing her husband proclaim his love for another woman.
“Oh, don’t be like that…” he says, kneeling down on her back. “You served as a good wife, and you’ll be remembered as such. I made sure to aim low to keep your pretty head nice and preserved.”
“But…but…” Dee whimpers.
“But what? How else could this have ever possibly ended?”
“I…I wanted to be…a writ—”
Case pulls Dee's head back by the roots of her hair just as he pulls a pocket knife from his belt. He rips off her heart shape necklace and discards it, throwing it into the bushes just beside you. You know what will come next, but resolve yourself to not dishonor the sacrifice she's made for you. So, you sit and watch as he slits her throat clean across, her blood, her identity, her dreams rushing out and splashing onto the lawn of their family home.
“You wanted to be dinner. All women want to be dinner. That’s all you ever were, and that’s how you’ll be remembered,” Case says with a snarl.
In Dee’s final seconds, as her eyes frantically scan her surroundings, she sees you, and you lock eyes. You hold her novel close to your chest and softly nod, trying to affirm your promise as you watch the life drain from her eyes.
Something inside you breaks as you witness this event. It isn’t your heart or your sympathy, but rather a barrier between worlds. Quietly, you make a decision. There is more at stake here now than just Zoe’s life.
You resolve to be a part of something bigger.
You wave goodbye to Dee as she’s dragged by her ankles to her family tree, strung up, and bled out for tonight’s dinner party.
As Case walks back into the house and closes the door, you turn and scan the neighborhood. You notice some clothes hanging on a clothesline. You pick up her necklace and move discreetly through the night grab the clothes, get dressed, and then make your way down the street.
[[Advance to: Wed AM ->First Duel Necklace]]
[else]
It takes every bit of restraint in your mind to stop your body from overpowering you and rushing out on instinct to save Dee. You want to, but you know what's really going on - Robert is armed and waiting, and he's using Dee as bait. You, on the other hand, are naked, soaked in your own juices, and your muscles are nearly fork tender after being cooked for several minutes in a hot oven.
*There's nothing I can do to save her...*
You watch as her husband slowly walks out and stands over her, shaking his head. He lights a cigarette and takes a drag before pulling out his phone and making a call.
“Hey, Bill. It’s Case. I’d like to move up our plans for little Miss Dee to tonight. I’ll pay extra for same-day service. I already have the plaque. Yes, see you tonight. Thanks.”
You watch as Dee starts to cry, still trying to crawl away. Case puts out his cigarette on her back, with Dee screaming out, and you nearly rush out again, the bush shaking enough to get Case’s attention for a second.
He then scoffs and dials another number.
“Hey, baby. Guess what? Well, little ol’ Dee lost her mind, and I caught her helping a meat girl escape. I know. Yes, I fixed her. Looks like you won’t be roasting her for Dolcett Day after all. That’s right. You can move in TONIGHT, actually…”
Case kicks Dee in her shattered ribs, Dee rolling over in pain as he examines her torn torso.
“I’m afraid I ruined some of her good parts. No, her legs are still good. Rump too. Shoulder. Yeah, but we need to serve twelve. Well, eleven now. Oh, I’ve never had that. Family recipe? Sounds delicious. See you soon. Love you.”
Dee wails at the sound of hearing her husband proclaim his love for another woman.
“Oh, don’t be like that…” he says, kneeling down on her back. “You served as a good wife, and you’ll be remembered as such. I made sure to aim low to keep your pretty head nice and preserved.”
“But…but…” Dee whimpers.
“But what? How else could this have ever possibly ended?”
“I…I wanted to be…a writ—”
Case pulls Dee's head back by the roots of her hair just as he pulls a pocket knife from his belt. He rips off her heart shape necklace and puts it in his pocket. You nearly ook away, knowing what will come next, but resolve yourself to not dishonor the sacrifce she's made for you. So, you sit and watch as he slits her throat clean across, her blood, her identity, her dreams rushing out and splashing onto the lawn of their family home.
“You wanted to be dinner. All women want to be dinner. That’s all you ever were, and that’s how you’ll be remembered,” Case says with a snarl.
In Dee’s final seconds, as her eyes frantically scan her surroundings, she sees you, and you lock eyes. You hold her novel close to your chest and softly nod, trying to affirm your promise as you watch the life drain from her eyes.
Something inside you breaks as you witness this event. It isn’t your heart or your sympathy, but rather a barrier between worlds. Quietly, you make a decision. There is more at stake here now than just Zoe’s life.
You resolve to be a part of something bigger.
You wave goodbye to Dee as she’s dragged by her ankles to her family tree, strung up, and bled out for tonight’s dinner party.
As Case walks back into the house and closes the door, you turn and scan the neighborhood. You notice some clothes hanging on a clothesline. You move discreetly through the night to grab them, get dressed, and then make your way down the street.
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Wed AM ->First Duel]]"This looks like a hunting ground? I've survived a hunt before. I can do this."
"This is different than your trial with your now bodyguard. This is a licensed hunting ground, owned by the Baron, that is used for rich men to hunt desperate women who are trying to gain a small edge over all the disadvantages this place brings upon them."
"So. I have to sneak through it? Around it?"
"No. You'd have to sign up. Volunteer."
You look up at Phoenix as she softly nods.
"At dawn, they take volunteers. Any woman who survives the eight hour hunt is allowed to choose their reward. Most choose money, or protection from being slaughtered, but an option is a free meal at the Baron's nightly banquet. You'd be brought in the front door and treated like an honored guest. It would at least make for an easy entrance into the hall, I suppose."
"You don't seem convinced."
"You have to SURVIVE the hunt to get to the hall, Scarlett. For every woman that's running alongside you, there's a man hunting you. Sure, they are only allowed to bag one of you, but it's a rigged system. The land is far too small for you to hide for long, and then..."
Phoenix takes the longest drag of her vape you've seen to date.
"...to be honest, the death you willl encounter here will be as brutal and violent as anything you will experience in Dolcett. You should only choose this path if you're willing to accept that these men will kill you like a game animal, assuming they don't play with you first if you're caught alive."
Your face flushes as you feel yourself get a little wet.
"Oh, I know that look." Phoenix says, leaning in. "You need to think about keeping your head on your shoulders. Besides...women make better lovers."
You ignore Phoenix's advance and look back down at the map.
"Okay, so, I just have to survive the hunt, get my escort into the banquet, slip in the back, rescue Zoe, and then..."
"Exactly, Scarlett. And then what?"
"I'll find a way. I always do."
"Hmph. You better. OK - what else do you want to know about?"
[["Ask about the path on the left - it leads through some type of forest labeled 'Mysterious Wood.'"->Explain Wood]]
[["Ask about the path through the right - it leads through a series of fences and wire drawings and says 'Bouvier Farms.'" ->Explain Livestock]]
[[Tell Phoenix you've made your decision. You'll go through Redwood Hunting Lodge. ->Choice Hunt]]As your hand drifts to point at the right path, Blueberry runs backwards and hides behind Phoenix, her body visibly quivering.
"That's all farmland. As you can see, Blueberry isn't a fan. It's where she's from, actually."
"From?"
Phoenix presses her index finger into the map.
"Blueberry was born here. Bouvier Farms. She never knew any other life but as a sow, where she was reared, fattened, and kept for slaughter."
Blueberry slowly steps forward and nods, before lifting her neck up and showing her neck scar.
"They cut her vocal cords at a young age so she could never speak. She was actually due to be harvested, potentially even for the Baron's dinner, right before we ran a raid and were able to get her out."
Blueberry hugs Phoenix tight, squeezing her so hard that Phoenix begins to cough.
"Okay, okay, that's enough. Geez." Phoenix says as she pulls Blueberry's arms apart, Blueberry frantically signing the same message to Phoenix.
"Yes, Blueberry, I love you too."
You allow yourself to bask in the happy moment, before you observe Phoenix's face sink.
"We lost a lost of good women that day. Killed, eaten, or worse..."
"...worse?"
"Converted. Which is the risk you must accept if you choose to go this route. If they catch you, they WILL convert you into livestock. Understand - if they get their hands on you, you will face a barrage of efforts to break your mind entirely, and once they've accomplished that, your body will live on to be fattened, bred, and one day slaughtered for your meat."
"I understand if you won't send a rescue if things go south. I'm used to being responsible for myself."
"Of course we'd want to save you, but if we don't hear from you by Friday morning, we are going ahead with our demonstration as planned. Either our plan works, and all of the sows in Dolcett will be free, or we will all end up on a plate."
"Fair enough. Okay. So I just need to sneak through here without getting caught? What's the strategy for that?"
"That's exactly the issue, Scarlett. The truth is, you'll have to rely on blind luck."
Phoenix traces her finger at four forks in the road that seperate the various acres of farmland.
"The supply truck you'd smuggle on makes stops on a needs basis, so there's no way for us to know which route it will be on any given day. It makes four turns - rights and lefts - you'll just have to guess correctly four times, consecutively, or you're livestock. The odds of that are, um..."
Phoenix places her hand on her chin as Blueberry flashes six fingers up.
"Right, about 6 percent. You've got about a six percent chance of making it. Otherwise, you'll be captured, collared, branded, and converted into a sow"
"Can't I just escape, even if they catch me?"
"Sure, Scarlett, you'll just have to do something no woman has ever done - escape Bouvier Farms before they break your brain and you're left grazing mindlessly in the field, waiting for the axe to fall on your neck."
You take a deep breath as you look back at the map.
"Not what you were hoping for? What else would you like to know?"
[["Ask about the path on the left - it leads through some type of forest labeled 'Mysterious Wood.'"->Explain Wood]]
[["Ask about the path through the center - it leads through a fenced off range of trees and is labeled 'Redwood Hunting Lodge.'" ->Explain Hunt]]
[[Tell Phoenix you've made your decision. You'll go through Bouvier Farms ->Choice Farm]]"Tell me about this Mysterious Wood...it seems to be the shortest path, overall."
"Seems to be, yes." Phoenix says as her eyes wander off to a distant place. "Do you believe in fairy tales, Scarlett?"
"I guess I did, as a child. But, I don't believe in the supernatural, anymore. There's enough problems to solve in the here and now to bother with fables and folklore."
"Well, if you take this path, you must be willing to accept that the fantasical, the unknown, the unrealistic can take place here."
Phoenix traces her finger down the left path.
"There's a reason that this land, well within the Baron's property line, is a place that is undisturbed even by men."
"And what is that reason?"
"There's...something that happens in there that we don't understand. The myth is that the original settlers of Dolcett encountered a people there that are not from this world, people could perform feats that were impossible to known science. It's still said that our rituals of women eating began in that place, a consequence of those who tried to dwell in a realm that's better suited for a fantasy novel than reality."
"So no one lives there? Shouldn't it be easy to cross?"
"I can tell you that we don't know much of anything about the area, at all. The last person who made it through there went crazy shortly after. She just kept muttering the number "13" over and over as she walked in circles. What I do know is it is NOT a place for someone who does not prefer the abstract, the unrealistic, or to be challenged on what they truly believe exists in this world."
"I see. So if I choose this path, I should expect to be met with some type of supernatural force. Is that it?"
"Not only that, Scarlett. The rules you've learned to survive in this world won't apply there. You won't be able to rely on the repeated word, your moral code, or deduction to survive. The choices will be scattered, random, unclear..."
Phoenix nods as she hits her vape."
"...but, if you're able to make it through the Mysterious Wood, there's a meadow at the other end that is only a half hour walk to the property of the Baron's residence and banquet hall."
You look back down at the map.
"What else would you like to know about?"
[["Ask about the path through the center - it leads through a fenced off range of trees and is labeled 'Redwood Hunting Lodge.'" ->Explain Hunt]]
[["Ask about the path through the right - it leads through a series of fences and wire drawings and says 'Bouvier Farms.'" ->Explain Livestock]]
[[Tell Phoenix you've made your decision. You'll go through the Mysterious Wood ->Choice Wood]]The guard continues to stand over you, but the LFD girl rolls you on top of the drawing she had started to make to conceal it. He shrugs and you see him walk away, and you sigh out in relief.
You go to sit up as soon as he walks away, but she presses you back down and taps her finger impatiently on your belly, continuing to eat your pussy. You decide to doze a little bit, as you realize she is probably right. It is best not to rush off immediately, as if you were doing something, and to allow yourself to linger in this place for a little while.
She does not bring you to orgasm, which you are thankful for, as you feel like your body is literally sore on the inside. But after she wipes her mouth and scans the perimeter, you both return to your hands and knees. She gestures back at the drawing and continues to work on it.
As she traces something, she points toward the barn.
“You want me to go back to the barn? How is it that that could get me out of here?”
She begins to trace something alongside the crude drawing of the barn, making large circles as she draws lines through a square.
“A truck. The barn is the way to the truck?”
She nods and traces a finger up a winding path, then draws a large building over top of it.
“The truck is going to the mansion. Okay. If I can just get on the truck... It’s set to make a delivery for tonight’s banquet? That has to be it. They’re providing some girls for the feast tonight.”
The woman nods discreetly, but eagerly.
“Okay, so how do I get in the truck? Are they bringing any sows up for the dinner tonight? Alive?”
The woman draws a throat-slitting gesture across her own throat and shakes her head.
“Only processed ones, huh? Well, I can’t save my friend if I’m processed. What do I have to do?”
The woman thinks and draws three shapes in the ground, in a specific order.
A triangle.
A circle.
And a square.
Before she can explain any further, she quickly wipes away the dirt as a guard walks over, standing between your two, his rifle drawn. You try to lay her on her back, and you lower your face down into her moist, sweaty, unclean smelling vagina, prepared to put on a good show. But, the guard shakes his head as two others approach.
"Come with us, both of you. Now."
You are led on your hands and knees, along with the LFD sow, back to the barn, and you're walked in to Mistress Everett again as she once again pretends not to notice. She then slams the pages back down on the clipboard and tosses it over to a guard.
“So, it turns out our little convert was faking it all along. Weren't you, Grain-Fed?”
The girl from the LFD pretends not to understand her language and simply moves in response.
“You can't fool me. We see everything here. But the good news is…”
Mistress Everett snaps her fingers incessantly until the clipboard is brought back at her direction. She flips through exactly six pages and slams her finger down on the page.
“The good news is that our metrics show here that you are right for processing. We were going to save you for another litter, but since you clearly don't appreciate the quality of life we've given you here, I think it's time to bring you up for slaughter.”
The metallic chains that carried away Peaches just a few hours ago roll over in Grain-Fed's direction. She instinctively starts to backpedal, but she's grabbed by the arms and picked up upside down, held in place as she's strapped by the ankles and lowered into the air. Mistress Everett has handed over the controls and lifts a safety lever that only has one button to press until Grain-Fed is sent down the disassembly line and processed into grocery cuts.
"Now, I am willing to make an exception for our friend here and send her back through conditioning in one piece..." Mistress Everett says as she runs a hand up Grain-Fed's thick rump. "But you, my lovely Melody, have to submit yourself as meat. You will either agree that you are nothing more than a sow and surrender yourself unconditionally to be slaughtered, or this one is hamburger."
The machine begins to whirr as Mistress Everett's hand rests on the red button.
"I'll make it very simple. It's her life or yours. One of you is going on that truck—which one of you is it going to be?"
[[Surrender yourself. You won't let another woman die for you and you've got to get on that truck, one way or another. ->Convey 1]]
[[Surrender Grain-Fed. You only have a few shapes to rely on, and you just need more time to decipher them. You'll only end up in pieces if you go now. ->1984 Style ending]]hasFarmMap: false
--
"I ignore it. I lock it all deep inside of me and I never, ever address it. And I absolutely never play with others, it's too dangerous."
"I don't entirely believe you, but..."
Phoenix steps back, disheartened.
"I respect your right to choose to not play with me. But, would you be willing to lay with me for a while? I just...need a break from my own thoughts."
"Alright."
***************************
Phoenix takes a drag of her vape and offers you a hit, but you pass. You stare up at the ceiling in and wonder.
"How did you come to be in the Subjegation Auction five years ago?" You ask. "You're so smart that I can't imagine you'd get caught up accidently breaking a rule in Dolcett."
"You're very kind, but I wasn't always this way." Phoenix says with a sigh. "Let's just say the rule I broke wasn't an accident."
"Say more."
"Does it matter?"
"Shouldn't it?"
Phoenix takes a long draw from her vape.
"I...well, I..."
"Go on."
"I've always been like, I guess you'd call a tomboy. I never liked dresses, I don't like girly things as a child. My parents tried to steer me towards being pleasing and obedient, and told me if I didn't find a nice man to claim me as his wife, I'd probably be snuffed and sold at a grocery store by the time I was 30." Phoenix says, a smile growing on her face. "I didn't care. I just wanted to do things my way, you know, be different...but then, I met him."
"Him?"
"My parents set it up. He was SO much older than me. A real traditionalist, a firm hand, he had wives before, which didn't seem to bother my parents."
Phoenix takes another long hit of her vape.
"He was so different than all the other men, I'd ever met. He really listened to me, he seemed to care about my dreams, the types of dreams women aren't allowed to have here.
Phoenix sighs.
"I even told him my dream was to run for political office, you know, be the first elected woman in Dolcett. He never laughed at me. He even told me he'd help me, that he had rich, powerful friends that could get me started. He really made me feel..."
"You fell in love with him."
"...I fell for it. alright." Phoenix says, her smile from earlier evaporated. "The minute I took his collar, he completely changed. On our wedding day, he told me my opinions were stupid and my place was on my knees waiting for him to come home. He told me...he took pleasure in breaking opinionated, independent women, and he had taken me on to be his next personal project."
"I can't imagine how that went, knowing how strong you are."
"It went as you'd expect. The same night he told me he swore his undying love for me in front of my family, he whipped me with his belt. He said he had to break me of the idea that I women were capable of anything beyond submission to a man."
"So. You ran away...and got yourself caught on purpose? To escape?"
Phoenix laughs.
"Caught on purpose, yes. Ran away...not exactly." Phoenix takes a drag of her vape, letting the vapor linger in her mouth before contuniing, her expression lifeless.
"I knew the minute he truly broke my will, and I accepted my cage, he'd get bored and kill me. So, I did what any proper Dolcett girl would do - I got dressed up in the clothes he picked out for me, strapped on six inch heels, and made him his favorite meal - top girl loin steak and smashed potatoes. You should've SEEN the look on his face as I served his plate, Scarlett, he was so smug. So confident. So convinced he'd broken me.
You don't respond, but quietly nod, for a moment.
"He was also SO wrong. I remember every little microexpression he made as he started to choke. I can hear the sound of him aspirating as the poison burned a whole in his esophagus. The way he tumbled backwards in his chair. And..."
Phoenix takes a deep breath, her eyes vacant as she twirls her vape between her fingers.
"...and when the shock set in, when I really knew he was going to die, I smiled. I smiled for the first time in months. I took my collar off and threw it on his heaving chest and I made sure the last thing he ever heard was - 'I guess women are capable of a lot more than you think.'"
Phoenix looks over at you.
"You sure you still want to be my friend after all that?"
You think a moment before answering.
"I think philosophers have debated the morality of your situation for millenia, so I won't be the one to pass judgment on you. What's the right answer in a world full of wrong ones?" You explore aloud. "But, wouldn't you have just been arrested and not Subugated?"
"Yes, that is how it should've went, but I had it all planned out - I killed him at dinner on Wednesday night, finished what I thought would be my last meal, hid his body in the closet, and headed into town."
"So, you thought that by the time they found out what happened, you'd be..."
"...dead. Eaten, really, especially being Subujgated on Dolcett Day weekend, I'd be long roasted by the time they'd found out why he'd stopped showing up to work. And to be honest, I was fine with that, I had accepted that my punishment should be an eye for an eye. But then, I met you, in that room that signified my life had ended, I met someone who inspired me that my life had only just begun."
Phoenix places a hand on your head, brushing your hair behind your ear.
"I had never met a woman who really believed that life for us could be better, and I was just inspired to live. I decided right then and there that if I could find a way to escape from whoever bought me, my penace would be to dedicate every moment of my life to making life better for women, whatever the cost."
"I'm not sure if I've made life better or not." you admit. "I thought I'd done so much before I came here - being the gatekeeper that prevented unwilling women from being sent to Dolcett. But, there's so many innocent women here, and all I've done is sent women who had the same urgings as I deny to their death."
"It would appear we have that in common, then." Phoenix comforts. "The urges, the authority role, and sending women to their death. It's a heavy burden."
"I still remember them." You continue. "I remember every single one of them that I approved -their lustful expression, how grateful they were to me, their excitement at being able to fulfill their greatest fantasy. You'd think this would be a proud moment for me, as it's what I'd dedicated my life to, and yet..."
"...you feel the guilt." Phoenix finishes.
"Yes. For their loss of life. For what I could've, should've done? But mostly, for my own hypocrisy. I sit in my fancy chair and stamp their paper like I'm some kind of wise overseer, someone qualified to make a determination on literal life and death. But all I think about, every time I approve a visa, is what my own name would look like on that paper.
"How close have you ever come? To submitting to your urges?"
"Well, the last time I was here, there was this woman..."
"I thought you said you didn't like women."
"There's something about her, Seductive, transfixing, intoxicating. It was less about who she was and how she looked but how she moved, how she was able with words and a touch to command people. I noticed that even as we were talking, her hands danced across my body, and that she was constantly trying to get inside of me."
"Hot." Phoenix whispers.
"I saw later that any woman she ever got her fingers inside, she was able to control them like a puppet. She was so skillfull in the art of lust that even one touch would break them entirely and make them obedient to her forever, a drone aching for it's next release."
"Hotter." Phoenix says as her hips grind against you.
"I realized that if she ever got her fingers inside of me, I would have the greatest orgasm of my life, and then, there would be no going back - I'd be dinner. She was intent on roasting me in an oven, alive, and I've just...even though she never was able to touch me there, I..."
"Can't get the image out of your head?"
"Never. I fantasize about it all the time, just giving in to her. There's something simple about it - I'd be giving in just enough to let her rip the control I've struggled with away from me. There's a part of me that just wants to show up at her doorstep with an apple in my mouth and lay down on her platter."
"Who is she? Your famous bodyguard?"
There's some noise in the foyer.
"Oh. The women are waking." Phoenix says. I can't let them see us like this. It's best you leave now, out the back. You'll have to tell me the rest another time."
"Thanks Phoenix. For everything."
"No, Scarlett, thank you. You made ALL of this possible. Without you, there would be no Ladies for Dolcett. And, there won't be a LFD past Friday if you don't come back. So, please, do what you do best, defy the odds, save your friend, and let's save this world together. For all of the innocent women in Dolcett."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Thurs AM, Bouvier Farms ->First Coin Flip]]hasFarmMap: false
--
"I fantasize about...about..."
Phoenix begins to kiss your neck, softly, her lips lingering as if she's tasting your flesh anew each time.
"...being...spitted alive..."
"Oh, a bit of a pain slut, are we? That's very kinky."
"Yes...I want the flames to...dance...over my..."
As Phoenix's kisses go down your neck, you grab her by the roots of her hair and hold it into your chest.
"I'm sorry...I really can't do this..."
Phoenix slumps over on the bed next to you, disheartened.
"Alright, Scarlett. I respect your right to choose to end our gamee. But, would you be willing to lay with me for a while? I just...need a break from my own thoughts."
***************************
Phoenix takes a drag of her vape and offers you a hit, but you pass. You stare up at the ceiling in and wonder.
"How did you come to be in the Subjegation Auction five years ago?" You ask. "You're so smart that I can't imagine you'd get caught up accidently breaking a rule in Dolcett."
"You're very kind, but I wasn't always this way." Phoenix says with a sigh. "Let's just say the rule I broke wasn't an accident."
"Say more."
"Does it matter?"
"Shouldn't it?"
Phoenix takes a long draw from her vape.
"I...well, I..."
"Go on."
"I've always been like, I guess you'd call a tomboy. I never liked dresses, I don't like girly things as a child. My parents tried to steer me towards being pleasing and obedient, and told me if I didn't find a nice man to claim me as his wife, I'd probably be snuffed and sold at a grocery store by the time I was 30." Phoenix says, a smile growing on her face. "I didn't care. I just wanted to do things my way, you know, be different...but then, I met him."
"Him?"
"My parents set it up. He was SO much older than me. A real traditionalist, a firm hand, he had wives before, which didn't seem to bother my parents."
Phoenix takes another long hit of her vape.
"He was so different than all the other men, I'd ever met. He really listened to me, he seemed to care about my dreams, the types of dreams women aren't allowed to have here.
Phoenix sighs.
"I even told him my dream was to run for political office, you know, be the first elected woman in Dolcett. He never laughed at me. He even told me he'd help me, that he had rich, powerful friends that could get me started. He really made me feel..."
"You fell in love with him."
"...I fell for it. alright." Phoenix says, her smile from earlier evaporated. "The minute I took his collar, he completely changed. On our wedding day, he told me my opinions were stupid and my place was on my knees waiting for him to come home. He told me...he took pleasure in breaking opinionated, independent women, and he had taken me on to be his next personal project."
"I can't imagine how that went, knowing how strong you are."
"It went as you'd expect. The same night he told me he swore his undying love for me in front of my family, he whipped me with his belt. He said he had to break me of the idea that I women were capable of anything beyond submission to a man."
"So. You ran away...and got yourself caught on purpose? To escape?"
Phoenix laughs.
"Caught on purpose, yes. Ran away...not exactly." Phoenix takes a drag of her vape, letting the vapor linger in her mouth before contuniing, her expression lifeless.
"I knew the minute he truly broke my will, and I accepted my cage, he'd get bored and kill me. So, I did what any proper Dolcett girl would do - I got dressed up in the clothes he picked out for me, strapped on six inch heels, and made him his favorite meal - top girl loin steak and smashed potatoes. You should've SEEN the look on his face as I served his plate, Scarlett, he was so smug. So confident. So convinced he'd broken me.
You don't respond, but quietly nod, for a moment.
"He was also SO wrong. I remember every little microexpression he made as he started to choke. I can hear the sound of him aspirating as the poison burned a whole in his esophagus. The way he tumbled backwards in his chair. And..."
Phoenix takes a deep breath, her eyes vacant as she twirls her vape between her fingers.
"...and when the shock set in, when I really knew he was going to die, I smiled. I smiled for the first time in months. I took my collar off and threw it on his heaving chest and I made sure the last thing he ever heard was - 'I guess women are capable of a lot more than you think.'"
Phoenix looks over at you.
"You sure you still want to be my friend after all that?"
You think a moment before answering.
"I think philosophers have debated the morality of your situation for millenia, so I won't be the one to pass judgment on you. What's the right answer in a world full of wrong ones?" You explore aloud. "But, wouldn't you have just been arrested and not Subugated?"
"Yes, that is how it should've went, but I had it all planned out - I killed him at dinner on Wednesday night, finished what I thought would be my last meal, hid his body in the closet, and headed into town."
"So, you thought that by the time they found out what happened, you'd be..."
"...dead. Eaten, really, especially being Subujgated on Dolcett Day weekend, I'd be long roasted by the time they'd found out why he'd stopped showing up to work. And to be honest, I was fine with that, I had accepted that my punishment should be an eye for an eye. But then, I met you, in that room that signified my life had ended, I met someone who inspired me that my life had only just begun."
Phoenix places a hand on your head, brushing your hair behind your ear.
"I had never met a woman who really believed that life for us could be better, and I was just inspired to live. I decided right then and there that if I could find a way to escape from whoever bought me, my penace would be to dedicate every moment of my life to making life better for women, whatever the cost."
"I'm not sure if I've made life better or not." you admit. "I thought I'd done so much before I came here - being the gatekeeper that prevented unwilling women from being sent to Dolcett. But, there's so many innocent women here, and all I've done is sent women who had the same urgings as I deny to their death."
"It would appear we have that in common, then." Phoenix comforts. "The urges, the authority role, and sending women to their death. It's a heavy burden."
"I still remember them." You continue. "I remember every single one of them that I approved -their lustful expression, how grateful they were to me, their excitement at being able to fulfill their greatest fantasy. You'd think this would be a proud moment for me, as it's what I'd dedicated my life to, and yet..."
"...you feel the guilt." Phoenix finishes.
"Yes. For their loss of life. For what I could've, should've done? But mostly, for my own hypocrisy. I sit in my fancy chair and stamp their paper like I'm some kind of wise overseer, someone qualified to make a determination on literal life and death. But all I think about, every time I approve a visa, is what my own name would look like on that paper.
"How close have you ever come? To submitting to your urges?"
"Well, the last time I was here, there was this woman..."
"I thought you said you didn't like women."
"There's something about her, Seductive, transfixing, intoxicating. It was less about who she was and how she looked but how she moved, how she was able with words and a touch to command people. I noticed that even as we were talking, her hands danced across my body, and that she was constantly trying to get inside of me."
"Hot." Phoenix whispers.
"I saw later that any woman she ever got her fingers inside, she was able to control them like a puppet. She was so skillfull in the art of lust that even one touch would break them entirely and make them obedient to her forever, a drone aching for it's next release."
"Hotter." Phoenix says as her hips grind against you.
"I realized that if she ever got her fingers inside of me, I would have the greatest orgasm of my life, and then, there would be no going back - I'd be dinner. She was intent on roasting me in an oven, alive, and I've just...even though she never was able to touch me there, I..."
"Can't get the image out of your head?"
"Never. I fantasize about it all the time, just giving in to her. There's something simple about it - I'd be giving in just enough to let her rip the control I've struggled with away from me. There's a part of me that just wants to show up at her doorstep with an apple in my mouth and lay down on her platter."
"Who is she? Your famous bodyguard?"
There's some noise in the foyer.
"Oh. The women are waking." Phoenix says. I can't let them see us like this. It's best you leave now, out the back. You'll have to tell me the rest another time."
"Thanks Phoenix. For everything."
"No, Scarlett, thank you. You made ALL of this possible. Without you, there would be no Ladies for Dolcett. And, there won't be a LFD past Friday if you don't come back. So, please, do what you do best, defy the odds, save your friend, and let's save this world together. For all of the innocent women in Dolcett."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Thurs AM, Bouvier Farms ->First Coin Flip]]hasFarmMap: false
--
"There was a young receptionist at my hotel...barely twenty..."
"Oh, Cougar Sky, you bad girl. You want him to eat you?" Phoenix says as she presses her lips firmly against your mound, her focusing her tongue on your clit, providing pressured, slow strokes.
"He...was fascinated with my ass. I think he wanted to roast it full, stick a pineapple in it, turn me into a traditional ham dinner..."
"That's hot-"
You rest your hand on the back of Phoenix's head, eager to press to indicate you want a little more firmness.
"No...I don't even like...ham..."
You feel the orgasm slipping away from you, slowly, as you come back to reality. Phoenix continues to work with her rthyhm, but she too can feel that the music has been lost.
She crawls up and lays besides you.
"That was really good, thank you." you whisper.
"Couldn't get you there, but I did get a taste. And you sure all delicious, Scarlett."
***************************
Phoenix takes a drag of her vape and offers you a hit, but you pass. You stare up at the ceiling in and wonder.
"How did you come to be in the Subjegation Auction five years ago?" You ask. "You're so smart that I can't imagine you'd get caught up accidently breaking a rule in Dolcett."
"You're very kind, but I wasn't always this way." Phoenix says with a sigh. "Let's just say the rule I broke wasn't an accident."
"Say more."
"Does it matter?"
"Shouldn't it?"
Phoenix takes a long draw from her vape.
"I...well, I..."
"Go on."
"I've always been like, I guess you'd call a tomboy. I never liked dresses, I don't like girly things as a child. My parents tried to steer me towards being pleasing and obedient, and told me if I didn't find a nice man to claim me as his wife, I'd probably be snuffed and sold at a grocery store by the time I was 30." Phoenix says, a smile growing on her face. "I didn't care. I just wanted to do things my way, you know, be different...but then, I met him."
"Him?"
"My parents set it up. He was SO much older than me. A real traditionalist, a firm hand, he had wives before, which didn't seem to bother my parents."
Phoenix takes another long hit of her vape.
"He was so different than all the other men, I'd ever met. He really listened to me, he seemed to care about my dreams, the types of dreams women aren't allowed to have here.
Phoenix sighs.
"I even told him my dream was to run for political office, you know, be the first elected woman in Dolcett. He never laughed at me. He even told me he'd help me, that he had rich, powerful friends that could get me started. He really made me feel..."
"You fell in love with him."
"...I fell for it. alright." Phoenix says, her smile from earlier evaporated. "The minute I took his collar, he completely changed. On our wedding day, he told me my opinions were stupid and my place was on my knees waiting for him to come home. He told me...he took pleasure in breaking opinionated, independent women, and he had taken me on to be his next personal project."
"I can't imagine how that went, knowing how strong you are."
"It went as you'd expect. The same night he told me he swore his undying love for me in front of my family, he whipped me with his belt. He said he had to break me of the idea that I women were capable of anything beyond submission to a man."
"So. You ran away...and got yourself caught on purpose? To escape?"
Phoenix laughs.
"Caught on purpose, yes. Ran away...not exactly." Phoenix takes a drag of her vape, letting the vapor linger in her mouth before contuniing, her expression lifeless.
"I knew the minute he truly broke my will, and I accepted my cage, he'd get bored and kill me. So, I did what any proper Dolcett girl would do - I got dressed up in the clothes he picked out for me, strapped on six inch heels, and made him his favorite meal - top girl loin steak and smashed potatoes. You should've SEEN the look on his face as I served his plate, Scarlett, he was so smug. So confident. So convinced he'd broken me.
You don't respond, but quietly nod, for a moment.
"He was also SO wrong. I remember every little microexpression he made as he started to choke. I can hear the sound of him aspirating as the poison burned a whole in his esophagus. The way he tumbled backwards in his chair. And..."
Phoenix takes a deep breath, her eyes vacant as she twirls her vape between her fingers.
"...and when the shock set in, when I really knew he was going to die, I smiled. I smiled for the first time in months. I took my collar off and threw it on his heaving chest and I made sure the last thing he ever heard was - 'I guess women are capable of a lot more than you think.'"
Phoenix looks over at you.
"You sure you still want to be my friend after all that?"
You think a moment before answering.
"I think philosophers have debated the morality of your situation for millenia, so I won't be the one to pass judgment on you. What's the right answer in a world full of wrong ones?" You explore aloud. "But, wouldn't you have just been arrested and not Subugated?"
"Yes, that is how it should've went, but I had it all planned out - I killed him at dinner on Wednesday night, finished what I thought would be my last meal, hid his body in the closet, and headed into town."
"So, you thought that by the time they found out what happened, you'd be..."
"...dead. Eaten, really, especially being Subujgated on Dolcett Day weekend, I'd be long roasted by the time they'd found out why he'd stopped showing up to work. And to be honest, I was fine with that, I had accepted that my punishment should be an eye for an eye. But then, I met you, in that room that signified my life had ended, I met someone who inspired me that my life had only just begun."
Phoenix places a hand on your head, brushing your hair behind your ear.
"I had never met a woman who really believed that life for us could be better, and I was just inspired to live. I decided right then and there that if I could find a way to escape from whoever bought me, my penace would be to dedicate every moment of my life to making life better for women, whatever the cost."
"I'm not sure if I've made life better or not." you admit. "I thought I'd done so much before I came here - being the gatekeeper that prevented unwilling women from being sent to Dolcett. But, there's so many innocent women here, and all I've done is sent women who had the same urgings as I deny to their death."
"It would appear we have that in common, then." Phoenix comforts. "The urges, the authority role, and sending women to their death. It's a heavy burden."
"I still remember them." You continue. "I remember every single one of them that I approved -their lustful expression, how grateful they were to me, their excitement at being able to fulfill their greatest fantasy. You'd think this would be a proud moment for me, as it's what I'd dedicated my life to, and yet..."
"...you feel the guilt." Phoenix finishes.
"Yes. For their loss of life. For what I could've, should've done? But mostly, for my own hypocrisy. I sit in my fancy chair and stamp their paper like I'm some kind of wise overseer, someone qualified to make a determination on literal life and death. But all I think about, every time I approve a visa, is what my own name would look like on that paper.
"How close have you ever come? To submitting to your urges?"
"Well, the last time I was here, there was this woman..."
"I thought you said you didn't like women."
"There's something about her, Seductive, transfixing, intoxicating. It was less about who she was and how she looked but how she moved, how she was able with words and a touch to command people. I noticed that even as we were talking, her hands danced across my body, and that she was constantly trying to get inside of me."
"Hot." Phoenix whispers.
"I saw later that any woman she ever got her fingers inside, she was able to control them like a puppet. She was so skillfull in the art of lust that even one touch would break them entirely and make them obedient to her forever, a drone aching for it's next release."
"Hotter." Phoenix says as her hips grind against you.
"I realized that if she ever got her fingers inside of me, I would have the greatest orgasm of my life, and then, there would be no going back - I'd be dinner. She was intent on roasting me in an oven, alive, and I've just...even though she never was able to touch me there, I..."
"Can't get the image out of your head?"
"Never. I fantasize about it all the time, just giving in to her. There's something simple about it - I'd be giving in just enough to let her rip the control I've struggled with away from me. There's a part of me that just wants to show up at her doorstep with an apple in my mouth and lay down on her platter."
"Who is she? Your famous bodyguard?"
There's some noise in the foyer.
"Oh. The women are waking." Phoenix says. I can't let them see us like this. It's best you leave now, out the back. You'll have to tell me the rest another time."
"Thanks Phoenix. For everything."
"No, Scarlett, thank you. You made ALL of this possible. Without you, there would be no Ladies for Dolcett. And, there won't be a LFD past Friday if you don't come back. So, please, do what you do best, defy the odds, save your friend, and let's save this world together. For all of the innocent women in Dolcett."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Thurs AM, Bouvier Farms ->First Coin Flip]]hasFarmMap: false
--
"Yes, I just want to be a meal on a plate. Free of stress...and pain...and responsibility.."
Phoenix goes to speak but you shove her head in place, your legs beginning to quake as you can feel the orgasm coming.
“I got really wet when I watched the Baron eat that sow's cunted. I wanted it to be...”
Phoenix pulls your hand away from her head for a moment to speak.
“You bad girl. You wanted to be the Baron's cuntsteak dinner, didn't you?”
“Yes...I...wanted...I really wanted..."
Phoenix continues the steady rhythm of her thrusting hand, the curl in her fingertips, and the intense pressure on your mound, her tongue licking from underneath.
Just as you're about to orgasm, you feel an uneasiness in your stomach. The Baron did not turn you on, he turned you very off. He was the antithesis of sexuality - trying to reduce a woman's life to nothingness besides her value on a plate.
You feel the quaking orgasm flutter away, just before it erupts, and you lay in frustration on the bed.
Phoenix crawls up and lays besides you, gasping for air in between licking her fingers.
"That was REALLY good, thank you." you whisper.
"You were really close, Scarlett. But, it's okay. I can tell you enjoyed yourself almost as much as I did. You okay?"
"Yeah, I just...I always have some type of hangover after I masturbate to this fetish."
"Same." Phoenix says as she takes a drag of her vape and offers you a hit, but you pass. You stare up at the ceiling in and wonder.
"How did you come to be in the Subjegation Auction five years ago?" You ask. "You're so smart that I can't imagine you'd get caught up accidently breaking a rule in Dolcett."
"You're very kind, but I wasn't always this way." Phoenix says with a sigh. "Let's just say the rule I broke wasn't an accident."
"Say more."
"Does it matter?"
"Shouldn't it?"
Phoenix takes a long draw from her vape.
"I...well, I..."
"Go on."
"I've always been like, I guess you'd call a tomboy. I never liked dresses, I don't like girly things as a child. My parents tried to steer me towards being pleasing and obedient, and told me if I didn't find a nice man to claim me as his wife, I'd probably be snuffed and sold at a grocery store by the time I was 30." Phoenix says, a smile growing on her face. "I didn't care. I just wanted to do things my way, you know, be different...but then, I met him."
"Him?"
"My parents set it up. He was SO much older than me. A real traditionalist, a firm hand, he had wives before, which didn't seem to bother my parents."
Phoenix takes another long hit of her vape.
"He was so different than all the other men, I'd ever met. He really listened to me, he seemed to care about my dreams, the types of dreams women aren't allowed to have here.
Phoenix sighs.
"I even told him my dream was to run for political office, you know, be the first elected woman in Dolcett. He never laughed at me. He even told me he'd help me, that he had rich, powerful friends that could get me started. He really made me feel..."
"You fell in love with him."
"...I fell for it. alright." Phoenix says, her smile from earlier evaporated. "The minute I took his collar, he completely changed. On our wedding day, he told me my opinions were stupid and my place was on my knees waiting for him to come home. He told me...he took pleasure in breaking opinionated, independent women, and he had taken me on to be his next personal project."
"I can't imagine how that went, knowing how strong you are."
"It went as you'd expect. The same night he told me he swore his undying love for me in front of my family, he whipped me with his belt. He said he had to break me of the idea that I women were capable of anything beyond submission to a man."
"So. You ran away...and got yourself caught on purpose? To escape?"
Phoenix laughs.
"Caught on purpose, yes. Ran away...not exactly." Phoenix takes a drag of her vape, letting the vapor linger in her mouth before contuniing, her expression lifeless.
"I knew the minute he truly broke my will, and I accepted my cage, he'd get bored and kill me. So, I did what any proper Dolcett girl would do - I got dressed up in the clothes he picked out for me, strapped on six inch heels, and made him his favorite meal - top girl loin steak and smashed potatoes. You should've SEEN the look on his face as I served his plate, Scarlett, he was so smug. So confident. So convinced he'd broken me.
You don't respond, but quietly nod, for a moment.
"He was also SO wrong. I remember every little microexpression he made as he started to choke. I can hear the sound of him aspirating as the poison burned a whole in his esophagus. The way he tumbled backwards in his chair. And..."
Phoenix takes a deep breath, her eyes vacant as she twirls her vape between her fingers.
"...and when the shock set in, when I really knew he was going to die, I smiled. I smiled for the first time in months. I took my collar off and threw it on his heaving chest and I made sure the last thing he ever heard was - 'I guess women are capable of a lot more than you think.'"
Phoenix looks over at you.
"You sure you still want to be my friend after all that?"
You think a moment before answering.
"I think philosophers have debated the morality of your situation for millenia, so I won't be the one to pass judgment on you. What's the right answer in a world full of wrong ones?" You explore aloud. "But, wouldn't you have just been arrested and not Subugated?"
"Yes, that is how it should've went, but I had it all planned out - I killed him at dinner on Wednesday night, finished what I thought would be my last meal, hid his body in the closet, and headed into town."
"So, you thought that by the time they found out what happened, you'd be..."
"...dead. Eaten, really, especially being Subujgated on Dolcett Day weekend, I'd be long roasted by the time they'd found out why he'd stopped showing up to work. And to be honest, I was fine with that, I had accepted that my punishment should be an eye for an eye. But then, I met you, in that room that signified my life had ended, I met someone who inspired me that my life had only just begun."
Phoenix places a hand on your head, brushing your hair behind your ear.
"I had never met a woman who really believed that life for us could be better, and I was just inspired to live. I decided right then and there that if I could find a way to escape from whoever bought me, my penace would be to dedicate every moment of my life to making life better for women, whatever the cost."
"I'm not sure if I've made life better or not." you admit. "I thought I'd done so much before I came here - being the gatekeeper that prevented unwilling women from being sent to Dolcett. But, there's so many innocent women here, and all I've done is sent women who had the same urgings as I deny to their death."
"It would appear we have that in common, then." Phoenix comforts. "The urges, the authority role, and sending women to their death. It's a heavy burden."
"I still remember them." You continue. "I remember every single one of them that I approved -their lustful expression, how grateful they were to me, their excitement at being able to fulfill their greatest fantasy. You'd think this would be a proud moment for me, as it's what I'd dedicated my life to, and yet..."
"...you feel the guilt." Phoenix finishes.
"Yes. For their loss of life. For what I could've, should've done? But mostly, for my own hypocrisy. I sit in my fancy chair and stamp their paper like I'm some kind of wise overseer, someone qualified to make a determination on literal life and death. But all I think about, every time I approve a visa, is what my own name would look like on that paper.
"How close have you ever come? To submitting to your urges?"
"Well, the last time I was here, there was this woman..."
"I thought you said you didn't like women."
"There's something about her, Seductive, transfixing, intoxicating. It was less about who she was and how she looked but how she moved, how she was able with words and a touch to command people. I noticed that even as we were talking, her hands danced across my body, and that she was constantly trying to get inside of me."
"Hot." Phoenix whispers.
"I saw later that any woman she ever got her fingers inside, she was able to control them like a puppet. She was so skillfull in the art of lust that even one touch would break them entirely and make them obedient to her forever, a drone aching for it's next release."
"Hotter." Phoenix says as her hips grind against you.
"I realized that if she ever got her fingers inside of me, I would have the greatest orgasm of my life, and then, there would be no going back - I'd be dinner. She was intent on roasting me in an oven, alive, and I've just...even though she never was able to touch me there, I..."
"Can't get the image out of your head?"
"Never. I fantasize about it all the time, just giving in to her. There's something simple about it - I'd be giving in just enough to let her rip the control I've struggled with away from me. There's a part of me that just wants to show up at her doorstep with an apple in my mouth and lay down on her platter."
"Who is she? Your famous bodyguard?"
There's some noise in the foyer.
"Oh. The women are waking." Phoenix says. I can't let them see us like this. It's best you leave now, out the back. You'll have to tell me the rest another time."
"Thanks Phoenix. For everything."
"No, Scarlett, thank you. You made ALL of this possible. Without you, there would be no Ladies for Dolcett. And, there won't be a LFD past Friday if you don't come back. So, please, do what you do best, defy the odds, save your friend, and let's save this world together. For all of the innocent women in Dolcett."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Thurs AM, Bouvier Farms ->First Coin Flip]]<span style="color: #CC3600;">
*I really have to find the words. I can't fail everyone now.*
Phoenix marches with Blueberry at her side, the entirety of the LFD behind them. She tries to rehearse the words she's planned for years in her head, but she can't clear her mind.
*I'm going to have to exist in the moment. Trust myself. Speak from the heart. Let the facts of the cause be known. They’ve probably got their best men working today, they won’t be easy to convince.*
Phoenix looks forward as she sees a police captain and deputy just ahead, watching the floats for the Dolcett Day parade go by.
---
"I'm telling you, working Dolcett Day is the best assignment you can have all year," the police captain says, waving at a float advertising woman-sized air fryers.
"Why is that, boss?" a younger, pimply deputy responds.
"Nothing ever happens on D-Day, that's why. It's a national celebration. Heck, I remember my first D-Day. I was upset about being away from the Mrs. I was planning on having her for supper myself, but the moral is, you can take home TRIPLE PAY and always have her for leftovers the next day."
"Ha-ha-ha. Yeah, good point, boss."
"Yeah, and the way I see it, not a single crime is ever going to be committed on D-Day because everyone's so darn happy, men and women alike."
"It is a joyous day, boss."
"Sure is. Heck, the womenfolk are even happier than normal to be cut up and eaten," he says, nudging his elbow into his younger deputy. "And the guys, well, it's a great opportunity to show off their patriotism, their pride, and their patriarchy as heads of households by having their ladies volunteer to be the annual barbecue. Now, who would ever disrupt something like that?"
"Can't think of a soul, boss. Can't think of a soul."
"Yes, sir. Heck. Triple pay. Practically highway robbery, if you ask me."
"Ah, BOSS..." the deputy says, his voice rising as he turns his head.
"Yes, deputy, and I do not appreciate your increased vernacular. You could startle a man."
"Uh, sir. Captain. Boss. Sir. May I ask a question?" he says, his head still turned.
"I say you SURE are talking a lot for OUR day off now. What is your question, deputy?"
"Well, boss, uh, I know nothing's supposed to happen, nothing out of the ordinary, at least here on this joyous date, but..."
"SPIT IT OUT, boy."
"It's just... well... what in the good old-fangled woman-eating world is THAT?"
The police captain turns to meet his deputy's line of sight, seeing the forty five women, led by Scarlett and Phoenix, marching toward them.
"I don't know who they are, son, but I can tell you one thing..." he says as he picks up his megaphone. “They aren’t going any further.”
"NOW, HOLD ON A MINUTE, THIS HERE PARADE ROUTE IS FOR FLOATS ONLY. YOU CAN'T BE MARCHIN' WITHOUT NO FLOAT."
Phoenix does not stop marching, straight down the street and directly to the officer's position.
"What if they is them ladies, boss? You know, the terrorist group?"
The police captain bashes the deputy over the head with the megaphone.
"They ain't no terrorist group, son. They don't take action out in the open like this. Don't you pay attention at your briefings?"
"I fell asleep, boss. There's so rarely a crime, boss."
"I am going to report you to our suh-peer-rior as soon as this shift is over," he says, turning to raise the megaphone as you are now within 100 feet.
"I SAID, THIS IS AN UNLAWFUL ASSEMBLY. TURN BACK OR ELSE."
[[Have Phoenix explain that she recognizes that her assembly is illegal, but that she does not consent to being eaten. ->FC]]
[[Have Phoenix explain that they are welcome to try and stop her by force, but she has a right to assemble as it's Dolcett Day. ->FB]]"Uh, did you hear that boss? They said their march is legal." the deputy says.
"Yeah, but you're not listening to the important part of what she said." The captain says as he switches on his walkie talkie. "She said we are welcome to use force. Sounds like CONSENT to me, doesn't it to you, son?"
"Sure does, boss.” The deputy responds with a raspy laugh. “SURE does."
"Wait, no, that's not what I meant –“ Phoenix stammers out.
The captain yells an order into his walkie talkie and police from all areas of the street converge on the LFD. One by one, Phoenix watches her followers clubbed by night sticks, dragged off, or wrestled to the ground. She feels herself lifted off the ground and is carried away by three officers - the last thing she sees before she's shoved into a police wagon is Blueberry being led off by a leash.
*I can't believe this, I've failed. I've failed everyone...*
GAME OVER. PHOENIX WAS EATEN.
Epilogue:
Phoenix's face flashes with the same resolve and determination that have become her signature, even as she's led by a collar and leash into the Baron's residence. As she's brought into his study, he stares out through his floor-to-ceiling window at the various properties that extend just beyond his estate.
"I have nothing to say to you. And there's nothing that you can do to me. We both know that you're not into inflicting pain. It's not good for the meat, right?" Phoenix teases.
"You are right about one thing..."
The Baron slowly turns his chair around to face Phoenix.
"I am not about inflicting pain..."
He stands and slowly walks over as Phoenix shuffles her feet to step back, but she's held in place by the officer who brought her in.
"...And it is true that suffering of any type lessens the quality of the meat..."
He continues his slow approach, confident, methodical, intense.
"...And I would never dirty myself by dining on such a hateful, wretched body as yours."
Phoenix smiles.
"Maybe you should just let me go free, then."
The Baron rubs a finger across Phoenix's face and raises her chin with a finger.
"You know, free range is not such a bad idea."
He looks over at the officer.
"I will take this one into my possession and declare her my property."
"That is your right," the officer responds.
"Take her to Bouvier Farms. Please let the Mistress know that she is to never know pain, never know suffering, and never experience a moment of stress."
Phoenix looks on curiously, trying to understand when the other shoe will drop. The Baron begins to smile as he looks her body up and down.
"It really is too bad that you've ruined yourself with your little escapades. You could have been a fine meal if you had just been born into a different life. But luckily for both of us, I am a patient man."
Phoenix's face becomes overwhelmed with fear, and she tries to pull away as she realizes the implication.
"Yes, twenty or so years is a small time to wait. By then, I will have my first taste of your flesh. But it will not come from your body, but from one of many that you will produce for my farm."
Phoenix screams as she's dragged away, the shriek echoing through the manor.
For the first time in five years, Phoenix experiences regret over her decision to ever start the Ladies for Dolcett.
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Friday AM: Inside the Parade ->FA]]<span style="color: #0041C2">
Blueberry stands proudly next to Phoenix, her smile unwavering even in the face of death. She feels a rush of pride at seeing her owner—no, she corrects herself, after so many years of conditioning—seeing her best friend lead the march to free **all** of the women in Dolcett, even those held as livestock at Bouvier Farms.
She even hopes that, one day, she can see her younger sister again, assuming she hasn't been eaten, as Blueberry was liberated so many years ago.
Regardless, Blueberry looks over and nods as she listens to Phoenix's words.
"You can call this an unlawful assembly if you wish. But let us make it completely clear: We do **not** consent to being eaten on this day. We do not **consent** to being cooked. And we will **not** consent to being taken against our will."
Blueberry nods eagerly and waves at the police with a smile, awaiting their response.
The police captain slowly lowers his megaphone.
"Uh, boss, shouldn't we go and arrest them?"
"Yes, that would be standard procedure. But, son, what is the protocol for an arresting officer?"
"Well, in a non-lethal manner, the officer making the arrest has full rights and privilege to eat the offender."
"That's correct."
"But these women don't consent to being eaten, boss."
"I realize that."
"So what do we do? Arrest them tomorrow?"
"I think I'm going to need to call HQ on this..."
Blueberry watches as Phoenix gives the signal for the LFD to continue marching forward, but she doesn't follow right away. She listens intently as the officers continue their conversation.
“Can’t we at least take back the livestock ones? They is just mindless stolen property, aren’t they boss?”
“You got a point there, son…”
[[Have Blueberry show off her scar to all the people in the crowd, trying to get their message across. ->FD]]
[[Have Blueberry start signing to all of the people in the crowd, trying to get their message across. ->FE]]Blueberry runs over to the lines of people that surround the street, raising her neck and pointing at her scar. As she does, they turn away, there's something about a sow—a lower-class animal to many in the crowd—running by them showing the symbol of her status that just tunes them right out.
Meanwhile, the police captain begins a call on his walkie-talkie.
"No, I don't think anyone really heard them say they don't consent, actually. At least, there isn’t proof of it. We certainly have deniability, It's so loud here with the parade going on and all. Right. Okay. I’ll send the word."
Blueberry watches as the police captain draws his baton and nods to the deputy, and they march forward to subdue the LFD. Blueberry runs out to stop them, and is clubbed violently in the head and knocked unconscious and to the ground. She does not see that her effort to raise awareness of her kind was not only ineffective, but provided a pathway to their undoing.
GAME OVER. BLUEBERRY WAS EATEN.
Epilogue:
Blueberry's body is her only remaining form of communication, as her hands are shackled together at her forearms. Her body quivers as she peers out the window at the familiar sights of fences, fields, and then, as a tear rolls down her face, the red barn that serves as the headquarters for Bouvier Farms.
As she's marched off the van and signed over by the police, the sun is just rising on the morning after Phoenix's failed uprising. Blueberry is marched inside and taken directly to a woman overseeing several new and returning livestock. The woman, Mistress Everett, pauses what she's doing and walks straight over to Blueberry. She doesn't greet her with a hug but instead with a disapproving pinch at her thigh, stomach, and neck.
"Look what they've done to you, my poor Blueberry. Your meat is so taut, and they haven't even been feeding you. You were nearly ready for harvest the last time I saw you—"
Blueberry's eyes remain fixed on the floor as she continues to shake.
"Now, now. Don't be afraid. It's not good for your meat. I'm going to take care of everything now. Things are going to be just like they were."
Blueberry shakes her head back and forth.
"No? You don't want to go back to the farm? You don't want to be nice and plump and relaxed and have orgasms melt out of you just like before?"
Blueberry raises her shackled hands, and tries to force some sign language with her fingers.
"OH, did they try to teach you to speak? Well, that's no good. We can't have you trying to teach the other girls how to communicate here. That's okay, my poor Blueberry.”
Mistress Everett says as she reaches behind Blueberry’s ear to give a scratch, with Blueberry pulling away and grunting loudly.
“Oh, you sweet little berry. I've missed you so much, and it would be such a disappointment if you ever got away from me again. That's why, when I heard you were coming..."
Mistress Everett leans in.
"...I skipped breakfast."
Blueberry is dragged away as she desperately digs her feet into the dirt until she's finally carried to the slaughterhouse.
Later, Mistress Everett picks three blueberries from a bush outside the house she uses when she's off work. As she comes inside, she finishes flipping a stack of pancakes and arranges them neatly on a plate, dusting them with powdered sugar and adding a generous amount of syrup. She gently places the blueberries on top and carries the plate to her table.
As she does, she looks to her right at the six thick-cut rashers of bacon already prepared, carved from Blueberry's stomach. She neatly arranges the plate so the blueberries, pancakes, and bacon sit together.
"Everyone's here now. Just like they always should have been."
She takes a bite containing every part of the meal and slips it into her mouth, savoring the flavors of the blueberries and Blueberry’s rendered belly fat, the flavor melting on her tongue and settling in her stomach.
"I've waited a long time to taste you. Delicious."
Mistress Everett picks up a slice of Blueberry's bacon and chews on it as she watches the local news, where highlights of your “terrorist” act being overthrown and subdued are being framed as a failed uprising that, if anything, raised national pride in the established order.
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Friday AM: Inside the Parade ->FA]]Blueberry runs over to the lines of people surrounding the street, frantically signing, “I do not consent,” over and over to each and every onlooker she passes. As she does, the crowd leans in, their curiosity growing, and many pull out their phones and begin recording. There’s something about a clear sow—scar at her neck—running around “speaking” that draws a ton of attention.
The police captain continues his call on his walkie-talkie.
"No, I don't think anyone really heard them say they don't consent, actually. At least, there isn’t proof of it. We certainly have deniability, It's so loud here with the parade going on and all.
“Boss, look at that.”
The captain looks at the commotion caused by Blueberry and shakes his head.
“Wait, wait, hold off,” he says into his walkie-talkie. “One of their sows is communicating with some type of sign language. Yes, people are watching. Everyone is recording now. They’re recording everything.”
The police captain and deputy take a moment to look around and note that nearly every onlooker has a phone out, livestreaming the LFD’s protest to the world.
“Yes, okay. They appear to be headed to the town square. Right. Will do.”
The police captain puts his walkie-talkie down.
“What’s the word, boss?”
“The word is they want us to ESCORT these women to the town square while HQ figures out what we can do about it,” the captain laments. “We can’t just go and kill a bunch of non-consenting women on Dolcett Day, can we?”
“Might spark a riot, boss.”
“Triple pay, my ass,” he says. “Come on, let’s walk beside them and see what they do next.”
Phoenix and Blueberry are all set.
[[Follow Puma and Zoe to the radio tower in their effort to shut down the emergency system that would render the LFD incapacitated. ->FF]]<span style="color: #e75480;">
*I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid. No, I TOTALLY am afraid. But that's okay, right? Scarlett said I need it to be strong!*
Zoe races behind Puma as they approach the entrance to the radio tower, which acts as an emergency system designed to prevent an uprising, just like the one they have just begun.
“Alright,” Puma says to Zoe. “Just like we've rehearsed, okay? As sexual as possible. The more obscene, the better.”
Zoe shakes visibly as she nods her head.
“The good news is, you’re supposed to be afraid to play your role. Your natural instincts will help you here.”
“I just have to have the courage to try,” Zoe says. “I’m ready.”
Zoe hands her leash that is attached to her collar to Puma. She watches as Puma gives her one final look over and swears she can see her tongue jut out from between her lips.
“Damn. You’re going to taste good,” Puma teases.
“Hey!! What’s that supposed to mean?” Zoe whines.
“You’ll find out. Come on.”
Zoe takes a deep breath as she’s led by the neck, still naked, into the radio tower. The station appears ancient to Zoe, who was born into a world of touchscreens and always-on internet. But here, a simple station with hard buttons, knobs, and switches controls the relay that could subdue the entire LFD in seconds if activated.
Just in front of the control board, four men sit at a table playing cards. The cards have naked women on them, but instead of pinups, they are pictures of women cooking in various perilous positions.
Zoe watches one of the men put his hand of four queens down as he sees Puma leading Zoe inside. Zoe gulps loudly.
*It’s showtime, Zoe Sanders. Just remember your time in theatre club...*
“Now, just a minute. You can’t be in here,” one of the guards says.
“Now, now, boys,” Puma says, raising a hand. “I brought something just for you.”
Puma aggressively tugs on Zoe’s leash as she presents Zoe to them.
“Hello, big, strong men,” Zoe begins in what she feels is a soft, sultry voice. “My owner wanted to offer me as a treat for you hard-working studs, all of you making the sacrifice to serve our great country on our biggest holiday. Today is ALL about hearing a woman’s right to consent, isn’t it?”
Zoe trembles as two of the men stand up and begin to walk around her. Another begins to loosen his belt as the one in charge steps right in front of Zoe, looking down.
“You’re right about that, sow. This holiday is all about MEN getting the honor of harvesting whatever delicious little meal they want. So, tell us what you consent to, little sow.”
Zoe feels Puma pull at her leash, and she steadies herself.
“Tell them, sow,” Puma commands.
*Be brave... be brave...*
"Well, I absolutely consent to being your dinner tonight. Please? Would you please cook me?"
Zoe feels the weight of the world on her shoulders as she sees the men's full attention on her and notices that Puma has begun to slip toward the control board.
"Oh, who would EVER turn down a request like that?" the lead guard says as they all laugh. "But you're going to have to provide us some relief first. Do you understand?"
Zoe feels the lead guard grab her by the jaw and pull her head up. As he does, he examines her neck.
"Say, how can you be a sow if you can speak? Where's your neck scar?"
Zoe sees Puma freeze, looking over to signal that their cover is in jeopardy. Zoe realizes that what she says next will seal their fate.
[[Have Zoe say "I'm just waiting for you to be the one to fuck my throat, daddy." ->FG]]
[[Have Zoe say "I'm just waiting for you to be the one to slit my throat, daddy." ->FH]]"I'm just waiting for you to be the one to fuck my throat, daddy."
Zoe watches as the lead guard reaches in his pants, eager to pull his cock out, but then pauses.
"Sure you are, but that doesn't explain why you're a sow and can talk."
Zoe watches helplessly as the lead guard snaps his head around, just in time to see Puma making her advance toward the control board.
"STOP HER!"
Zoe freezes in fear as Puma draws her Chanirs from her hip pockets as two guards rush her. Zoe feels a rush of excitement for a moment as Puma is able to cut two of them down with ease, their blood splattering on the radio tower floor. A third rushes to the control board, but Puma launches a Chanir into his chest.
Zoe feels herself lifted by the jaw and held in front of the last remaining guard as he runs toward the control board. She’s then hurled in the air and on top of Puma, knocking them both to the ground. Zoe scrambles to get up, but just as she gets to her feet, the wailing sound of a man repeatedly saying, "Calm down," overwhelms her ability to think, and she collapses to the ground.
Zoe looks over at Puma and sees her writhing in pain as well, realizing she has failed. She quickly thinks of all the people she has let down in this moment as tears fill her eyes. She is more disappointed in failing Scarlett and the LFD than she by the thought that she will never see her husband again.
GAME OVER. ZOE WAS EATEN.
Epilogue:
"Do you miss her?"
Zoe's future husband, Brian, sits with his feet up in the living room of his comfortable home in North Carolina. He doesn't look over at his best friend, Jake, as they stare intently at the college football game playing on this Saturday afternoon.
"Sure, I miss her. It sucks having to get up and get my own beers."
They both laugh.
"Seriously, though, the big day is only, what, three, four months away?"
"...something like that."
"You're not getting cold feet or anything like that?"
"Nah. Zoe's a very good girl. I really feel like I found my partner."
Jake leans over and lifts his beer bottle toward Brian, and they clink in celebration.
"I'm happy for you, man."
"Yeah. After she finishes this girls' trip, she'll be back at home. I’m surprised she even went, she’s really uncomfortable making decisions without my help."
"Man, you sure got lucky with such a demure woman."
"The thing is..." Brian says as he leans over to Jake. "...you have to tell women what to do. All women are obedient deep down; they just need to find the right man to take them by the hand."
A big play happens, and they both stop to cheer.
"You were saying?" Jake asks, his interest piqued.
"So, when I first met Zoe, she REALLY didn't know what she wanted. Part of her wanted to try college. Part of her wanted to travel the world. I had to help her sift through all of that and settle down where she truly belongs."
"Which is?
"The kitchen, of course."
Jake laughs as Brian grins.
"You've got to have her thinking it's all HER idea, too. She thinks when we went house hunting, that I was letting her decide. And as a good provider, I let her live that fantasy. That way, when she's spends the rest of her life slaving over a hot stove, she will think it was HER choice."
"You're diabolical, Brian.” Jake says as he grabs his phone. “Speaking of - did you see what happened in that country where they eat women? They tried to rise up and overthrow all of the men."
"Let me guess. They got put RIGHT in their place.” Brian says dismissively.
"Sure did. They even got cooked in the town square."
"Well, serves them right. If you ask me, that country got it right. Women there aren't even allowed to speak out; otherwise, they get replaced. I could see myself living there…”
Brian takes a long drink of his beer, his eyes wandering into a daydream.
“Heck, maybe Zoe and I will move there. She’d fit right in there, I bet. At least, until I got bored of her, and then she’d fit in somewhere ELSE.” Brian says as he pats his stomach.
"Damn, Brian, you don't think that's too extreme?"
"Nah. It's the natural order."
"Hey, check this out. This bald one kind of looks like Zoe."
Brian stares at the photo of Zoe, shaved bald, being marched off to slaughter.
"No, that's not my Zoe.” Brian says as he studies the image. “That woman looks like she thought she was special. My Zoe knows better."
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Friday AM: Inside the Parade ->FF]]Puma continues to sneak around to the control board as she carefully monitors the gaze of the guards. She gracefully sneaks around the control panel just as the lead guard pulls his cock out.
"Fuck…” he says panting, grabbing Zoe by the chin. “…that doesn't make any sense, but I'll be damned if I'm going to turn that offer down."
Puma inches closer and closer to her goal as Zoe is thrown over the card table. One of the guards pulls her back to him by her hips as the lead lines himself up in front of her mouth.
"Man, she sure is cute."
"And she’s going to cook up real nice."
"She’s the perfect age. And I bet her pussy is just so tight."
"I call her asshole."
Puma is able to slip behind the control board just as the lead guard whips his cock out, lining it up with Zoe's throat. Puma hesitates for just a moment, curious to see if Zoe resists, and smiles as Zoe closes her eyes and opens her mouth, her tongue sticking out.
*She's really committed to the mission. She is worthy quarry indeed.*
Just as the men are about to slide their cocks in their holes of choice, they hear the electrical panel spark loudly behind them. They turn and see black smoke rising as Puma stands confidently behind it, pulling her Chanir out of the control panel.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Are men the only ones here allowed to slip their dagger inside a waiting hole?” Puma teases.
Puma walks around the panel and draws the second blade from her hip sheath, taking a stance that invites only one outcome.
"She's destroyed the control panel. Do you know what this means?" one of the guards says.
"It means she's DEAD," the lead guard proclaims.
Puma observes the positioning of the four men, planning out her next move. For her, their movement happens in slow motion, the only thing that appears in her vision in real time is a leaf that dances in the wind just in front of her.
As the lead guard throws Zoe to the floor, Puma’s eyes widen with the moment..
“…the forest has already decided the outcome of this battle. But, you are certainly welcome to struggle against the inevitable.”
[[Have Puma subdue all four men on her own. ->FJ]]
[[Have Puma focus on two of the men, leaving the other two for Zoe to handle. ->FI]]Puma throws one of her blades into the shoulder of the nearest guard, who drops from the impact. A second blade flies past the face of another, and as he turns his head, he is met with her flying fist.
Puma does not turn around to handle the other two, making sure to focus on restraining the two she has wounded. As she turns her head around, she still sees Zoe cowering on the floor.
"Not as much of a warrior as I'd have hoped..." Puma mutters to herself.
Puma turns and sweeps the leg of the third guard, but as she leaps to knee the lead guard in the nose, a Taser clamps into her side, dropping her to the floor.
Puma presses her hands against the ground and rises back to her feet, fighting off the Taser even as the electricity courses through her body. She's able to take two steps forward before she succumbs, her body quivering violently on the ground as she continues to fight for every second she remains conscious.
Smoke rises off her broken body when the taser finally stops.
GAME OVER. PUMA WAS EATEN.
Epilogue:
“Now, you HAVE to admit, you have been a pain in my neck for SO long. That’s why you were worth the price to bail you out of your execution.”
Puma Catori soaks in a bag that is wrapped tightly around her body. The water temperature, using the sous vide-style cooking method, is exact, with a thermometer hanging nearby. Sweat runs down her forehead as she continues to deny her predicament—or her nemesis—any pleasure.
“I have nothing to say to you,” Puma retorts.
“Yes, SUCH a thorn in my side. Always watching over Scarlett, intimidating me with those thick, juicy muscles... I told you the first day we met that I had a cooking method just for you, didn’t I?”
Puma only tries to squeeze her shoulders out of the bag in response.
“Yes, I’ve wanted to eat you for years. YEARS, darling. It’s a different type of affair entirely than I have with Scarlett. Hers is more... intimate, emotional, loving. With you, it’s a matter of establishing dominance. You are big and strong, sure, but you pale in comparison to me in terms of sheer force.”
“Up for debate.”
“Is it? Because from where I’m sitting, you’re cooking in my pot, and you’re going in my stomach. It’s game over for you, huntress bodyguard, and I’ve set your bath to keep you going for days. Did you hear me? It’ll take DAYS for those muscle fibers to loosen. And once they do...”
Charlene rubs her stomach.
“Right into my stomach to be digested. You should be proud to become part of another strong woman.”
"You're not strong. You're a snake that slithers through the shadows. If I could just get out of this pot..."
"You'd what? Fight me with all your brute strength? Use those thick thighs to pin me down and choke me out? Sounds like a good time to me. Why don't you try?"
Charlene pulls out her phone and deactivates the pressure on the sous vide machine that keeps the bag tightly wrapped around Puma's body. It slowly loosens, and Puma wiggles her shoulders free.
"Your arrogance is your weakness," Puma growls.
Puma struggles to lift one arm to the lip of the pot, and then the other. She tries to lift herself out of the water, but she doesn't have the lower-body strength, and she splashes back down. She tries to press down with her thighs but finds her quads feel like Jello.
"No..." Puma laments with defeat in her voice.
"Oh, you were saying? Who's arrogant now? It's like I said—a few hours in a slow cooker would work WONDERS on that Amazonian body of yours. And guess what?"
Puma looks up, showing fear for the first time. Charlene's face lights up at the expression, her grin wider than ever.
"Your quads are already meat. You're fucking DINNER, Puma Catori, and there's nothing you can do about it."
Charlene tucks Puma's arms back into the sous vide bag, one by one, then waits to use Puma's limp finger to press the button on her phone to reactivate the bag's tightening mechanism and seal Puma back in place.
"YOU still need a day or two to be as tender as I'm looking for. That's okay—I have some Scarlett leftovers I'm going to heat up. Gosh, darling, she was just DIVINE."
"You didn't..."
"Oh, but I did. I even broke her before the end, and she BEGGED to be roasted in my oven. I even made her a special pan for the occasion."
Puma lowers her head.
"I don't expect I'll break you before the end. But it's fitting. I’m going to enjoy tasting the reluctance in those broken muscles of yours."
Charlene laughs as she walks out and closes the door, leaving Puma to cook slowly in the dark.
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Friday AM: Inside the Parade ->FF]]Puma throws one of her blades into the shoulder of the nearest guard, who drops from the impact. A second blade flies past the face of another, and as he turns his head, he is met with her flying fist. She sweeps the leg of a third and throws a jumping knee into the fourth, rendering all four guards incapacitated before the battle even begins.
"Holy shit, Puma, you're a badass," Zoe says as she rises to her feet.
"You didn't do so bad yourself, Zoe. You have a warrior's heart."
"Well, thank you," Zoe says, taking a bow. "That sure was scary for a minute there, but I have a different feeling now. It feels... exciting?"
"Don't get addicted," Puma says, pulling one of her Chainr out of the man's shoulder before rolling him onto his back and tying his arms behind his back. "Or do. I know I am. The difference is, I would never let my lust for victory put me in such a poor position."
Puma slaps the man on the back of the head as they both walk out of the radio tower, but not before retrieving her second Chainr from the wall.
"You're just amazing, Puma. You didn't kill anyone, you didn't take a blow, AND your blades didn't even hit the floor."
"Not yet," Puma says with a smile at Zoe. "Come on. Let's catch up to the others."
Phoenix and Blueberry are all set.
Zoe and Puma are all set.
[[Follow Scarlett as she rushes to the front of the parade in her effort to convince the Dolcett Day volunteers that there is a better life than becoming a holiday plate. ->FK]]As you watch Puma and Zoe slip off toward the radio tower, and Phoenix and Blueberry march with the LFD through the center of the street, you race ahead. Sure, you're naked, but every woman in this parade is naked, and nudity is commonplace here.
The only thing you're wearing is Asher's pendant, which you hold against your chest for a moment, a warmth glowing inside you. But, for once, it is not a sensation of heat between your legs.
It is flowing from your heart.
As you reach the lead float, you see half a dozen women on it, all of them bound, strapped, or displayed in perilous positions. All of the roasting and cooking favorites are on display here—a girl is tied to a spit, one is sitting in a pot, and one is sitting inside an oven, trussed and ready to roast. None of them are being cooked yet, but they all will be roasted once they reach the town square.
You jump up onto the float and begin to speak.
“Now, I know for a fact that every single one of you was a married woman who thought you were safe from being eaten before you ended up here. Am I right?”
There’s some mumbling, some looking around, and some quiet agreement as the women sit paralyzed with defeat, unwilling to speak out.
As you scan the float, you notice that a TV crew is now walking alongside you, curiously filming. Your protest is drawing attention, but it hasn't won anyone over yet.
“I have to find a way to get through to them—but how?”
[[Tell them about your experiences. Bear your soul. The entire world, even your world, will hear about who you really are, but that is how connection is built. ->Floats 2]]
[[Stick to Phoenix's message. It's less about you, and more about them. Convince them that rising up can change everything. That is how devotion to a cause is built. ->FL]]“Listen to me,” you say as you begin untying the woman strapped to the spitting machine. “All of you thought that if there were any day when you wouldn’t have to volunteer yourselves to make your husbands look good or bring pride to their family name, it would be this day. But look at you now.”
You untie the woman from the spitting machine, and she listens closely.
“You’re being paraded down the street with what—a name tag bearing his name? Not even your own name, which has already been forgotten, so you can be cooked in a public spectacle and handed out to diners who will never know who you are. Doesn’t that seem unfair to you?”
You pull the woman out of the soup cauldron and set her down on the float.
“Now, if you’re listening to the sound of my voice…”
You notice that the parade onlookers are now filming you as well.
“…I know that none of you ever desired a fate like this. I know that when you were young women, you didn’t dream of being in chains and then in men’s stomachs. Join the Ladies for Dolcett and help us stand up for what this holiday is supposed to be about—a woman’s right to choose whatever fate she desires.”
You smile as you unstrap the woman tied to an oven roasting pan.
“So, if you believe in the same things I do, then march with us to the town square. Show that you don’t consent to this. Stand for the belief that any woman can be whatever she wants in this world!”
You look around at the untied float, waiting for a response. For a second, every camera seems a little bigger. The spectacle of the moment, the success of the entire operation, feels like it hinges on their response.
One of the women slowly steps forward.
“I don’t know. I’ve fantasized about being eaten for as long as I can remember. Granted, I didn’t think I would go out this way, but still…”
Another steps toward you.
“Yeah, and aren’t the Ladies for Dolcett a terrorist group? Everything they do is illegal. I don’t want to die as a criminal.”
A third joins the group, with the rest following behind.
“I helped my husband snuff my best friend so I could take her place as his wife and be safe. I’m not going to dishonor my family and her sacrifice by following some stranger on a suicide misssion…”
She wipes away a tear as the women hug her.
“…you’re on your own!”
The women go back to their stations, ready to be tied back into position. You shake your head and realize that you’ve lost the people, too. A bottle cracks you upside the head, a projectile thrown from a location you didn’t see coming. You hear booing as the onlookers turn on you as well as the LFD, and the police step in to stop a full-scale riot.
A brief revolution takes place, but not the one you were hoping for. Your failed pitch has doomed Phoenix’s protest, and her prediction that the LFD would likely end on Friday has come true—all because you refused to honor your true self.
GAME OVER. YOU AND THE LFD WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
You stand in a single-file line in the town square that you had planned to march to in order to inspire a revolution. Instead, you are being slowly marched for an execution.
One by one, you watch as the Ladies for Dolcett are led to a guillotine, have their necks placed in stocks, and have their head severed by the unrelenting blade. The people you'd hoped to inspire to join your movement did get involved – but on the side of the police, subduing your uprising. Now, they surround the town square, eager to soon dine on your flesh, along with Phoenix's, Blueberry's, Zoe's, and Puma's.
The police have decided to save the leaders of the movement for last. Soon, it just Phoenix standing in front of you. The rest of your comrades are being cleaned out, cut up, and slapped on grills that were rolled into town to operate a makeshift barbecue to celebrate your defeat.
"I'm so sorry," you say to Phoenix.
"Don't be. We all gave it our best shot. I'm sure we inspired at least one woman to think a little deeper about her existence. It's a seed. One day, that seed will sprout, and all women will be free."
"Next."
You watch as Phoenix is shoved down into the guillotine and locked into place. You grimace as you watch the blade slice off her head, her body quaking as her head rolls down the sidewalk. Her body is hung up in front of you as she's bled out, sliced open from navel to breast, so her guts can be removed and she can be added to the rows of women who are already on the grill.
You're shoved in the guillotine next. You bite your lip, and stick out your hips. There is something erotic even about this, as for so long you’ve dreamed of this exact moment – the undeniable second that you were absolutely conq-
The blade severs your neck before you can finish the thought, the eroticism you'd hope to enjoy fleeting as your head is removed from your body. You feel yourself picked up, and a familiar face stares at you. You gasp as your final realization is that a fear that you have had throughout the week will become reality.
You'll end up a trophy after all.
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Friday AM: Inside the Parade ->FK]]"Listen to me." You say as you begin untying the woman strapped to the spitting machine. "My name is Scarlett Sky, and I'm the CEO of SkyCorp. It’s a corporation based in North Carolina that grants travel visas to women from the USA who want to travel to Dolcett to indulge in their ultimate fantasy… to be eaten."
"You're THE Scarlett Sky?" the woman you're untying asks, just as you loosen her binds.
Yes, and I'm here today because I am ALSO the woman who has kept unwilling women safe from being eaten, too. I've made it my life's mission to see that no innocent woman ever ends up on a plate. And today, I stand with the Ladies of Dolcett as we stand for a woman's right to choose, to be free, and to have a true right to consent to exist on this very special holiday.
You pull the woman out of the soup cauldron and set her down on the float.
"Now, if you're listening to the sound of my voice..."
You notice that the parade onlookers are now filming you as well.
"...you're probably wondering why I'd be willing to go this far, too. The truth is, I..."
You stammer for a second but steady yourself. You commit yourself.
“…I, too, have the same cravings you have. Deep down, I want to roast in an oven. But when I finally do, I want it to be by MY choice. No one else’s! MINE! And that’s the right that every woman in this country deserves!”
You smile as you unstrap the woman tied to an oven roasting pan.
“So, if you believe in the same things I do, then march with us to the town square. Show you don’t consent to this. Stand for the belief that any woman can be whatever they want in this world!”
You look around at the untied women, waiting for a response. For a second, every camera seems a little bigger—the spectacle of the moment, the success of the entire operation, feeling like it hinges on their response.
One of the women slowly steps forward.
“My husband told me he loved me every night and that he would never, ever eat me. He...signed me up for this without even asking me.”
Another steps toward you.
“When my husband told me he signed me up to be soup, he didn’t even look me in the eye. He just said, ‘Guess what, honey? You’re the guest of honor at this year’s Dolcett Day boil.’ What the hell kind of honor is that?”
A third joins the group, with the rest following behind.
“I helped my husband snuff my best friend so I could take her place as his wife, just so I could be safe. She even told me, as he cooked her alive, that she didn’t blame me. The problem is, I blame myself every day…”
She wipes away a tear as the women hug her.
“…there has to be a better way!”
The women cheer and stand with you, poised to join the LFD movement. You smile as you wave your arm for them to follow behind you as you rush toward the town square.
Phoenix and Blueberry are all set.
Zoe and Puma are all set.
Scarlett is all set.
[[Advance to - Friday Noon, Town Square ->Duel One]]hasFarmMap: true
--
As Phoenix lies next to you, stroking your hair, you feel a guilt setting in.
"You okay?" Phoenix asks, her body cuddling up next to yours. "Don't get me wrong, I really enjoyed myself. I always just feel a little...wrong...after."
"Same." you admit. I've never cum to this fantasy and didn't have some type of hangover."
Phoenix takes a drag of her vape and offers you a hit, but you pass.
“Still, that was REALLY good. I almost came myself…” she says, suddenly sitting up. “Which reminds me…”
Phoenix sprints across her tent and begins to sift through paperwork on a small desk.
“I know I’ve got it…gotta be…HERE it is!”
Phoenix returns with a ripped piece of paper.
“I just remembered – since Friday is Dolcett Day, it’s a little easier for us to anticipate the truck schedules, as they’ve got to make a special delivery from Bouvier Farm to the Baron’s banquet Hall.”
“So you know which ways I should turn to avoid being seen?” you say optimistically.
“Well, for the first two turns, yeah. After that, it’s random again. Sorry I can’t be more help.”
“It raises the odds. That’s all I can ask for. Thanks.”
As Phoenix lays back on the bed next to you, you stare up at the ceiling, wondering.
"How did you come to be in the Subjugation Auction five years ago?" You ask. "You're so smart that I can't imagine you'd get caught up accidently breaking a rule in Dolcett."
"You're very kind, but I wasn't always this way." Phoenix says with a sigh. "Let's just say the rule I broke wasn't an accident."
"Say more."
"Does it matter?"
"Shouldn't it?"
Phoenix takes a long draw from her vape.
"I...well, I..."
"Go on."
"I've always been like; I guess you'd call a tomboy. I never liked dresses; I don't like girly things as a child. My parents tried to steer me towards being pleasing and obedient, and told me if I didn't find a nice man to claim me as his wife, I'd probably be snuffed and sold at a grocery store by the time I was 30." Phoenix says, a smile growing on her face. "I didn't care. I just wanted to do things my way, you know, be different...but then, I met him."
"Him?"
"My parents set it up. He was SO much older than me. A real traditionalist, a firm hand, he had wives before, which didn't seem to bother my parents."
Phoenix takes another long hit of her vape.
"He was so different than all the other men, I'd ever met. He really listened to me, he seemed to care about my dreams, the types of dreams women aren't allowed to have here.
Phoenix sighs.
"I even told him my dream was to run for political office, you know, be the first elected woman in Dolcett. He never laughed at me. He even told me he'd help me, that he had rich, powerful friends that could get me started. He really made me feel..."
"You fell in love with him."
"...I fell for it. alright." Phoenix says, her smile from earlier evaporated. "The minute I took his collar, he completely changed. On our wedding day, he told me my opinions were stupid and my place was on my knees waiting for him to come home. He told me...he took pleasure in breaking opinionated, independent women, and he had taken me on to be his next personal project."
"I can't imagine how that went, knowing how strong you are."
"It went as you'd expect. The same night he told me he swore his undying love for me in front of my family, he whipped me with his belt. He said he had to break me of the idea that I women were capable of anything beyond submission to a man."
"So. You ran away...and got yourself caught on purpose? To escape?"
Phoenix laughs.
"Caught on purpose, yes. Ran away...not exactly." Phoenix takes a drag of her vape, letting the vapor linger in her mouth before continuing, her expression lifeless.
"I knew the minute he truly broke my will, and I accepted my cage, he'd get bored and kill me. So, I did what any proper Dolcett girl would do - I got dressed up in the clothes he picked out for me, strapped on six inch heels, and made him his favorite meal - top girl loin steak and smashed potatoes. You should've SEEN the look on his face as I served his plate, Scarlett, he was so smug. So confident. So convinced he'd broken me.
You don't respond, but quietly nod, for a moment.
"He was also SO wrong. I remember every little micro expression he made as he started to choke. I can hear the sound of him aspirating as the poison burned a whole in his esophagus. The way he tumbled backwards in his chair. And..."
Phoenix takes a deep breath, her eyes vacant as she twirls her vape between her fingers.
"...and when the shock set in, when I really knew he was going to die, I smiled. I smiled for the first time in months. I took my collar off and threw it on his heaving chest and I made sure the last thing he ever heard was - 'I guess women are capable of a lot more than you think.'"
Phoenix looks over at you.
"You sure you still want to be my friend after all that?"
You think a moment before answering.
"I don't know if I'm qualified to pass judgement on you, Phoenix. What's the right answer in a world full of wrong ones?" You explore aloud. "Also...wouldn't you have just been arrested, and not Subjugated?"
"Yes, that is how it should've went, but I had it all planned out - I killed him at dinner on Wednesday night, finished what I thought would be my last meal, hid his body in the closet, and headed into town."
"So, you thought that by the time they found out what happened, you'd be..."
"...dead. Eaten, really, especially being Subjugated on Dolcett Day weekend, I'd be long roasted by the time they'd found out why he'd stopped showing up to work. And to be honest, I was fine with that, I had accepted that my punishment should be an eye for an eye. But then, I met you, in that room that signified my life had ended, I met someone who inspired me that my life had only just begun."
Phoenix places a hand on your head, brushing your hair behind your ear.
"I had never met a woman who really believed that life for us could be better, and I was just inspired to live. I decided right then and there that if I could find a way to escape from whoever bought me, my penance would be to dedicate every moment of my life to making life better for women, whatever the cost."
"I'm not sure if I've made life better or not." you admit. "I thought I'd done so much before I came here - being the gatekeeper that prevented unwilling women from being sent to Dolcett. But, there's so many innocent women here, and all I've done is sent women who had the same urgings as I deny to their death."
"It would appear we have that in common, then." Phoenix comforts. "The urges, the authority role, and sending women to their death. It's a heavy burden."
"I still remember them." You continue. "I remember every single one of them that I approved -their lustful expression, how grateful they were to me, their excitement at being able to fulfill their greatest fantasy. You'd think this would be a proud moment for me, as it's what I'd dedicated my life to, and yet..."
"...you feel the guilt." Phoenix finishes.
"Yes. For their loss of life. For what I could've, should've done? But mostly, for my own hypocrisy. I sit in my fancy chair and stamp their paper like I'm some kind of wise overseer, someone qualified to make a determination on literal life and death. But all I think about, every time I approve a VISA, is what my own name would look like on that paper.
"How close have you ever come? To submitting to your urges?"
"Well, the last time I was here, there was this woman..."
"I thought you said you didn't like women."
"There's something about her, Seductive, transfixing, intoxicating. It was less about who she was and how she looked but how she moved, how she was able with words and a touch to command people. I noticed that even as we were talking, her hands danced across my body, and that she was constantly trying to get inside of me."
"Hot." Phoenix whispers.
"I saw later that any woman she ever got her fingers inside; she was able to control them like a puppet. She was so skillful in the art of lust that even one touch would break them entirely and make them obedient to her forever, a drone aching for its next release."
"Hotter." Phoenix says as her hips grind against you.
"I realized that if she ever got her fingers inside of me, I would have the greatest orgasm of my life, and then, there would be no going back - I'd be dinner. She was intent on roasting me in an oven, alive, and I've just...even though she never was able to touch me there, I..."
"Can't get the image out of your head?"
"Never. I fantasize about it all the time, just giving in to her. There's something simple about it - I'd be giving in just enough to let her rip the control I've struggled with away from me. There's a part of me that just wants to show up at her doorstep with an apple in my mouth and lay down on her platter."
"Who is she? Your famous bodyguard?"
There's some noise in the foyer.
"Oh. The women are waking." Phoenix says. I can't let them see us like this. It's best you leave now, out the back. You'll have to tell me the rest another time."
"Thanks Phoenix. For everything."
"No, Scarlett, thank you. You made ALL of this possible. Without you, there would be no Ladies for Dolcett. And, there won't be a LFD past Friday if you don't come back. So, please, do what you do best, defy the odds, save your friend, and let's save this world together. For all of the innocent women in Dolcett."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Bouvier Farms, Thurs AM ->First Coin Flip]]The hotline hangs up. You try to call again, but no one answers, no matter how many times you try. On your eighth attempt, you slam the receiver down, shaking your head, knowing that without help from the LFD—and now with no way to give the Baron information about their whereabouts—Zoe’s goose is all but cooked.
GAME OVER. ZOE WAS EATEN.
Epilogue:
Zoe is carried through a giant kitchen adorned with stainless steel appliances and glowing, lifeless flourscent lights. Her body hangs limp, dripping with an orange marinade, her head and eyebrows shaved clean off. She mumbles something un-intelligble, and is ignored, and she's lifted up and placed into position.
She stares ahead at a firepit, just ahead, and she tries to blink sauce out of her eyes as she makes out two women, one that appears to be squirming, shaking, like she's still trying to escape. But, Zoe realizes, there's a metal spit run through her body, in through her cunt and out of her mouth, and she's slowly rotating as she cooks on a rotisette alive.
Zoe lets out a whimper as she sees one woman, fully cooked, is lifted off by two line cooks and carried out of her sight. She feels clasps being secured around her ankles, and then her wrists, as she watches smoke drift out of the barbecue'd woman's mouth as the spit is removed, and she's sliced open from her neck to her belly, with stuffed peppers and vegetables pouring out from her empty cavity.
"SPIT NUMBER 3 JUST OPENED UP!"
Zoe feels a hand press on the back of her neck, and she realizes she's unable to fight back, her body soft, tender, and weak from soaking in sauce for the last 24 hours.
"Please...can you wait a minute?"
"Wait a minute?! What for?" A male assistant chef says.
"Um...I think someone might be coming..."
"The diners are already arriving, we have to get you over the coals to cook."
"Not to eat me, but to rescue me."
He laughs.
"Sure, sure. We can wait alright." He says, chuckling as he presses a button that clasps Zoe's neck in place. "The spit takes five minutes to get through you, but the point of no return is about 90 seconds in, where it passes through your vaginal wall and the saw underneath slices you open and your guts spill out."
"Whatever you say." He says, slapping Zoe on the ass. "I won't be around to see your rescue. I WILL be around to carry you over the flame - of which, YOU will still be around for. The Baron has it on your instructions that you're to feel what it's like to cook alive - luck you."
He presses a large, square, green button, and the spit whirrss with life, slowly sliding towards the entrance to Zoe's vagina. The assistant chef walks away, still chuckling, as Zoe tries to do what she can to move her body.
The spit slowly pushes itself inside her cunt, her walls stretching to meet it's fit.
Zoe begins to whimper.
"Please...no...I know you're coming to save me...you promised..."
The spit presses against Zoe's inner wall and her body pushes back, against the inevitable, as Zoe closes her eyes and bites her teeth together. She feels her insides tear like paper as the spit presses through, tearing into her abdominal cavity and breaking through the point of no return.
Just when the pressure feels like it is too much, she feels a stinging at her stomach and suddenly feels very light. The sensation is pleasant, relaxing, freeing, until she hears a wet splashing sound and looks underneath her. She watches as her organs fall out of her now open abdominal cavity, and slide down a chute that feeds right into the trash.
"I'm dead..." Zoe says as shock sets in her, her vision going blurry as she realizes she can't breathe. She allows herself to let the blackout take over, and just as she falls asleep, she's jarred back away as something presses on the back of her teeth. Her mouth is forced back open and she watches in horror as the bloody spit passes through, completing her transformation into spitted meat.
She realizes with an inhale she can breathe through the spit, and exhales in agony as her existance continues in this state.
*Why am I still alive? Why would anyone learn to do this to someone else?*
Zoe feels water splashing through her insides, both the sensation of water filling her from the outside, and that water then running out. She then learns what it's like to feel someone else's hand from the inside, as she's stuffed to the brim with herbs, vegetables, and a bread stuffing, just as she's rotated 180 degrees to be belly up to be sewn shut.
As she's gazes upside down at the fire ahead of her, she sees a blood stained smock step in her vision.
"Hey. I'm here for your rescue."
She looks up, well, down, from her vantage point, in confusion, and sees the same assistant chef as before.
"HA. Made ya look. I'm going to rescue you from the prep station and get you over the fire. Time to roast, you spit fucking pig."
*"No...please let me die...I don't want to feel what it's like to be cooked..."*
Zoe is turned another 180 degrees, the disorientation contuining as she's carried by 2 assistants towards the roaring flames that dance out of hot coals. With each step, she feels herself getting hotter, breaking out in sweat even before she's placed into 2 metal clasps that secure her over open flame.
As the first flame rises up and burns her skin, she tries to scream out, but the sound is contained in the spit, as having a voice is incompatible with her new identity as spitted meat. She quivers as the spit rotates, slowly, ensuing an even cook, and she realizes she looks just like the woman before her, struggling vainly against a reality long since decided, using her last moments in what looks like a struggle, but is really just a last resistance towards acceptance.
As her mind goes still, Zoe accepts that she will be served as dinner. She has a quiet daydream of her flesh being carved up and brought out in plates, and decides she'd prefer to be served next to mashed potatoes, as those were always her favorite. She wonders if she would make a gravy, but can't figure out such a thing could be made out of her current predicament, as the last second of her life drips down off her body, causing the flame to rise up and claim her existance as she then lifelessly turns to cook.
[[CHECKPOINT: Wed PM, Scarlett's Hotel Room. ->Dial]]The hotline hangs up. You try to call again, but no one answers, no matter how many times you try. On your eighth attempt, you slam the receiver down, shaking your head, knowing that without help from the LFD—and now with no way to give the Baron information about their whereabouts—Zoe’s goose is all but cooked.
GAME OVER. ZOE WAS EATEN.
Epilogue:
Zoe is carried through a giant kitchen adorned with stainless steel appliances and glowing, lifeless flourscent lights. Her body hangs limp, dripping with an orange marinade, her head and eyebrows shaved clean off. She mumbles something un-intelligble, and is ignored, and she's lifted up and placed into position.
She stares ahead at a firepit, just ahead, and she tries to blink sauce out of her eyes as she makes out two women, one that appears to be squirming, shaking, like she's still trying to escape. But, Zoe realizes, there's a metal spit run through her body, in through her cunt and out of her mouth, and she's slowly rotating as she cooks on a rotisette alive.
Zoe lets out a whimper as she sees one woman, fully cooked, is lifted off by two line cooks and carried out of her sight. She feels clasps being secured around her ankles, and then her wrists, as she watches smoke drift out of the barbecue'd woman's mouth as the spit is removed, and she's sliced open from her neck to her belly, with stuffed peppers and vegetables pouring out from her empty cavity.
"SPIT NUMBER 3 JUST OPENED UP!"
Zoe feels a hand press on the back of her neck, and she realizes she's unable to fight back, her body soft, tender, and weak from soaking in sauce for the last 24 hours.
"Please...can you wait a minute?"
"Wait a minute?! What for?" A male assistant chef says.
"Um...I think someone might be coming..."
"The diners are already arriving, we have to get you over the coals to cook."
"Not to eat me, but to rescue me."
He laughs.
"Sure, sure. We can wait alright." He says, chuckling as he presses a button that clasps Zoe's neck in place. "The spit takes five minutes to get through you, but the point of no return is about 90 seconds in, where it passes through your vaginal wall and the saw underneath slices you open and your guts spill out."
"Whatever you say." He says, slapping Zoe on the ass. "I won't be around to see your rescue. I WILL be around to carry you over the flame - of which, YOU will still be around for. The Baron has it on your instructions that you're to feel what it's like to cook alive - luck you."
He presses a large, square, green button, and the spit whirrss with life, slowly sliding towards the entrance to Zoe's vagina. The assistant chef walks away, still chuckling, as Zoe tries to do what she can to move her body.
The spit slowly pushes itself inside her cunt, her walls stretching to meet it's fit.
Zoe begins to whimper.
"Please...no...I know you're coming to save me...you promised..."
The spit presses against Zoe's inner wall and her body pushes back, against the inevitable, as Zoe closes her eyes and bites her teeth together. She feels her insides tear like paper as the spit presses through, tearing into her abdominal cavity and breaking through the point of no return.
Just when the pressure feels like it is too much, she feels a stinging at her stomach and suddenly feels very light. The sensation is pleasant, relaxing, freeing, until she hears a wet splashing sound and looks underneath her. She watches as her organs fall out of her now open abdominal cavity, and slide down a chute that feeds right into the trash.
"I'm dead..." Zoe says as shock sets in her, her vision going blurry as she realizes she can't breathe. She allows herself to let the blackout take over, and just as she falls asleep, she's jarred back away as something presses on the back of her teeth. Her mouth is forced back open and she watches in horror as the bloody spit passes through, completing her transformation into spitted meat.
She realizes with an inhale she can breathe through the spit, and exhales in agony as her existance continues in this state.
*Why am I still alive? Why would anyone learn to do this to someone else?*
Zoe feels water splashing through her insides, both the sensation of water filling her from the outside, and that water then running out. She then learns what it's like to feel someone else's hand from the inside, as she's stuffed to the brim with herbs, vegetables, and a bread stuffing, just as she's rotated 180 degrees to be belly up to be sewn shut.
As she's gazes upside down at the fire ahead of her, she sees a blood stained smock step in her vision.
"Hey. I'm here for your rescue."
She looks up, well, down, from her vantage point, in confusion, and sees the same assistant chef as before.
"HA. Made ya look. I'm going to rescue you from the prep station and get you over the fire. Time to roast, you spit fucking pig."
*"No...please let me die...I don't want to feel what it's like to be cooked..."*
Zoe is turned another 180 degrees, the disorientation contuining as she's carried by 2 assistants towards the roaring flames that dance out of hot coals. With each step, she feels herself getting hotter, breaking out in sweat even before she's placed into 2 metal clasps that secure her over open flame.
As the first flame rises up and burns her skin, she tries to scream out, but the sound is contained in the spit, as having a voice is incompatible with her new identity as spitted meat. She quivers as the spit rotates, slowly, ensuing an even cook, and she realizes she looks just like the woman before her, struggling vainly against a reality long since decided, using her last moments in what looks like a struggle, but is really just a last resistance towards acceptance.
As her mind goes still, Zoe accepts that she will be served as dinner. She has a quiet daydream of her flesh being carved up and brought out in plates, and decides she'd prefer to be served next to mashed potatoes, as those were always her favorite. She wonders if she would make a gravy, but can't figure out such a thing could be made out of her current predicament, as the last second of her life drips down off her body, causing the flame to rise up and claim her existance as she then lifelessly turns to cook.
[[CHECKPOINT: Wed PM, Scarlett's Hotel Room. ->Dial]]You scan the room again and nod.
You'll just have to make the best of it. You rush over and shove the waiters out of the way, grabbing the cart of the sobbing woman and make a break for the door. Just as you're about to get out, security slams it closed.
As one large security officer lunges for you, you drive your elbow into his gut, throwing him over your shoulder. You meet the other with a front kick to the jaw, rocking him backwards and into the wall.
"Wow, you're incredible Claire!" Zoe cheers on as she grabs the rolling cart.
You open the door to the street.
"Come on!"
As you turn to wave Zoe through, you see she is frozen in place, a vacant look in her eyes. Blood begins to leak from her mouth as she slumps over, a large kitchen knife driven squarely in her back.
You rush over to help her, but one of the security you knocked over grabs your legs, holding you down. Three chefs advance with their knives drawn, and you're able to knock out the first with a crushing right hook, dizzy a second with a left jab, but the third is able to stick his blade in your right shoulder before you can throw him into the wall.
You feel yourself swarmed by the dozens of floor staff, overwhelmed by their numbers, as you feel yourself pierced several times, until you finally crumble down on the floor. Blood pours out of your mouth as you meet Zoe's dead eyes, and realize that you didn't follow Puma's advice - you weren't practical in your decision making, and taking on an entire restaurant has resulted in your death.
No, worse yet, you realize as you are carried off towards the kitchen. It's resulted in you, and Zoe, being added to the restaurant menu tonight.
GAME OVER. YOU AND ZOE WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
The head chef of Cochinillo Assado stands between the bled out carcasses that once were you and Zoe, studying your bodies. He takes a moment to look over his menu, specials, and stock before making his first cut, ensuring that he will get the right portions to best replenish his inventory.
He decides to start by portioning you. Just like you saw on your table, you are rolled out as appetizers - potstickers, meatballs, even some carpaccio that is served raw and cold.
You're added to the steak section as well - top loin, ribeye, and filets are cut from your body and eagerly slapped on the grill.
Your ribs are cut in half and sold as two racks, bathed in barbecue sauce. Larger, thicker muscles are broken down and thrown into large pots where they are added to soups and stews.
Even your bones, once you fully been broken down, are used to build the restaurants reserve of broth. You ended up being very valuable on this trip - but not in the mission you set out to accomplish, as women in Dolcett are not defined by their accolades, but in the amount of meals you provide.
As the head chef goes to work on Zoe next, the girlfriend you lost your life to save is rolled out to the dining area, freshly roasted from the oven. Your actions made no difference in ultimate outcome of her life.
The only outcome you were able to change was your own.
********
[[Checkpoint: Monday PM, Cochinillo Assado ->Enter Restaurant New]]You examine the path, then look back at Abutit and cautiously sidestep until you're at the brink of the doorway. You set the knife down and rush out of the house, running up the path and to the fork in the road. As you reach it and turn your gaze back toward the cottage, you notice that it is gone entirely, as if it never existed at all.
You turn, and the path to the banquet hall is still clear. You decide to jog, just to be sure, and continue until you are out of the woods entirely and onto the grounds of the banquet hall. You sneak alongside and behind a row of hedges to conceal your approach, but you feel yourself getting very hot as you look up at the sun. The temperature doesn't appear to have changed, but the heat has
You shrug it off and keep making your way toward the building. Zoe has to be in there somewhere. You just hope she's still in one piece and not cooking—
You feel like you're cooking, with how hot your body has gotten from the sun. You find yourself unable to catch your breath, and you fall to one knee as you gasp against the heat. You try to crawl forward, but soon, you fall limp onto the grass, and you feel your body go into shock as black circles close in over your eyes.
"What... is happening?"
Your vision blurs as you reach a hand out... and as you look forward, you see that instead of the lodge in front of you, you see Agatha looking back at you through an oven door. You watch her forked tongue lick her dry, cracked lips as you realize that you never escaped the home, and all of this had been some type of mirage.
You try to tell yourself it isn't real—but succumb before you can finish the affirmation, roasting away in an oven for Abutit's dinner.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
A few hours later, all that is left of you is a pile of bones on a platter. Abutit reaches over and cracks one of your ribs off of your cage, and uses it to pick at her teeth, which are now white, shining, youthful.
Her belly protrudes comically over her waist, like she's pregnant with triplets from the amount of food she's consumed. She’s eaten all of you in one sitting, and can barely move as she gently pats her stomach and licks her lips, savoring the final taste of you as her body digests and absorbs your being entirely, in ways you will soon understand.
Just then, you wake back up, somehow. You're in a dark place, and you can't see anything. You're floating, almost as if you don't exist, except for your consciousness.
"Where am I?" you say out loud into the strange void.
You hear chattering in the distance—voices. It's like they're talking quietly to themselves, and not to you. You swear you hear one of them say to "just tell you." You hear another say "it can wait." Whatever is happening, it makes you very uncomfortable.
Suddenly, a clear voice speaks to you, to whatever is left of you, in this endless, absent, void-like place.
"I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you, but you're trapped here."
"Trapped?"
"When Abutit eats people like she does, she doesn't just consume their flesh; she consumes their souls. We're all trapped here. Everyone that she's ever eaten is trapped inside of her body, a prisoner for as long as she lives."
"How long have you been here? How do we get out?"
"Oh, there's no time in this place. This is a endless eternity, and there's no escape. We're now a part of her forever. All of us. You might as well just get used to it."
You start to feel the essence of the others who have been consumed as they surround you. You can feel their empathy. Their sorrow.
But, the one emotion you don't feel is hope, as they have accepted that for decades, centuries, or possibly millennia, they will continue to exist, and yet never, ever be free to have rest.
*************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs AM, Mysterious Wood ->The Mysterious Wood]]You softly walk over to the woman who is crying in the corner. You notice that she's sobbing so hard that, even as she tries to wipe the tears off her face, her face remains damp, and her entire arm is wet.
You decide to start with touch. You kneel down and place a hand on her shoulder. She locks eyes with you, an expression of complete despair on her face, and she falls into your body for a hug.
"Hey, don't give up," you encourage. "I've been where you'are at. You just have to—"
"What do you mean, alright? We're all going to die, and I'm going to end up in that asshole's stomach. He's going to drag my carcass back here and take me right into the processing room."
"That asshole? Do you know someone on the other side of this hunt?"
"Yes, I work with him. He's wanted to eat me since the first day he came to work. He's always taking extra time to stare at me, making jokes about how I'm going to taste, and now, well, today's the fucking day. I even let him fuck me in the break room - let him tie me up in hunting rope to make it feel "real" for him - that asshole left me in there all day, I couldn't even chew my way through it."
"If you know he's planning on killing you, why give him the chance by signing up?" you inquire.
"...I'm just behind on my bills, okay? A lot of women are. It's normal. We don't get paid as much, and they charge us such high interest rates. So I had to do something, anything, to get ahead. And then—stupid, stupid idea, Becky—I told someone who I THOUGHT was my friend that I was thinking about volunteering for this to make some money, and she told HIM."
"Why would she do that?"
"She's probably fucking him. Or wants my job. Or, who knows, maybe she wants to eat me too. I don't know. It doesn't matter—it all ends the same. He's already told me he's going to grind into hamburger, as he says my body isn't suited to be fine dining."
"You just have to outlast him. That's all. Horn to horn. You got this."
"Yeah, right. I'm in terrible shape. I can't run longer than a minute. I'm going to end up in his lunch box, and he's going to brag about snuffing me around the water cooler. Gosh, I wish I could've been born anywhere else. I wonder what it's like for women who don't have to deal with this?"
She goes back to crying, and you stand up and examine the room.
[[Find someone else to talk to. ->Staging Area]]
[[You're ready. Begin the hunt.->Begin Hunt]]You find that as your brain screamed for surrender for a third time in a row, the edging was the worst. There is no end to it, no satisfaction, no flood of Dopamine, just a bitter clutching to a realty that seems years away now. You don't even think you're Scarlett Sky, anymore, you just know you're not a sow, yet.
And as you clutch to that reality, you hear the machines power down, and the suctioning on your breasts soften. Your body shakes purely from fatigue as you look down and see your breasts appears shriveled, tired, and...empty.
"Well..." Mistress Everett says. "I almost had you. I'm GOING to have you by the end of the day, though, I can tell. You're close, but we DO have other good sow's to breed and milk today, after all. So, it's time for your lunch. Speaking of..."
She pours herself another glass of your milk and hands it to one of the attendants.
"I'd like this churned into butter because I'm going to use it to spread on my toast in just a bit."
"Yes, Mistress," the attendant says.
She leans over and whispers in your ear, still not looking you in the eye.
"That's right. Whether you give in to me or not, I'm going to EAT part of you for my lunch. And it's only going to be the FIRST part of you that I'm going to consume, you can count on that. Until then, you're going to enjoy a peaceful existence of being fattened up as you adjust to your new life on the farm."
**************************
As you're unhooked from the milking machine, your body is so weak that you don't have even a sliver of energy to attempt to fight back and escape. A leash is attached to your collar and you're dragged down to your hands and knees, and as you try and stand, a nightstick wacks you between your shoulder blades, crumbling you back down to your hands and knees.
“Sows don’t walk. Try walking again, and you get the stick again. Got it?” a farmhand says to you as he gives your leash a pull.
You lower your head and walk on your hands and knees beside him. You can already feel the conditioning that's being imposed on you, breaking down your mind and body. It's hard to deny what you are now.- walking like an animal, bred like one, milked...the only thing left to be done to you would be...
As you're led outside the barn, you're brought to where a line of sows stands shoulder to shoulder, their heads dunked into feeding troughs. Your stomach rumbles as you realize that they're eating, while the physical exertion of climaxing, being bred, and then milked has left you famished. But as you're pulled into a barely vacant space between two sows, what you see in front of you isn't exactly appetizing.
The trough in front of you contains scraps, chewed bones, and discarded remains of what appear to be different types of meat. No, you realize as you feel your head pull back in dread—these are the discarded cuts of recently slaughtered and cooked sows. You feel the butt of the nightstick at the back of your head, forcing you down.
"It's time for you to eat your fill. Mistress likes her sows nice and plump, so they fetch a good price when it's time for market."
You look over to your left and see that the next trough has vegetable scraps: the peelings of bananas, oranges, potatoes, turnips, and carrots, likely discarded from the meal prep that went along with the meat. It smells slightly rotten, though, as it’s been baking in the sun, and you physically recoil at the thought of eating either.
You look to your right. There’s only one sow to your right, and she’s not very heavy. You can probably push past her and get enough space to get back on your feet. You’re just starting to feel like yourself again.
The nightstick whacks you on your freshly branded ass and you yelp out in pain.
"I ain't going to tell you again. You're going to eat your fill or I'm going to whack you so good that you'll be eating out of a straw for a month."
[[Eat the meat slop. ->Meat Pot Pie]]
[[Eat the vegetable slop. ->Grazing]]
[[Stand, fight back, and try to escape. ->Fattening Fail]]The farm hand behind you grips you by the back of the skull and tries to force your head down into the slop. You refuse, using all the strength remaining in your body to straighten your neck, and then shrugging him off, forcing your way to your feet. He raises his nightstick to crack you on the top of the skull, but you’re able to parry his attack, elbow him in the ribs, and then throw him over your shoulder. Not only is he he is not used to any resistance, but either are the sows, as they quickly crawl away in fear.
You reach down to pick up the nightstick, but a foot steps on it just as you’re able to grip it. You look up and see Mistress Everett staring down at you, disappointed.
You take two steps backwards and get ready to fight her. She just places two hands up, palms out and shakes her head.
“I'm so disappointed. I wanted to learn so much about you. I wanted to make our time together special so I could turn YOU into something special. But I'm afraid the Baron has such a hatred of violence. Look, look at how you've disturbed the precious little meat cows next to you.”
You look over and see that the ones that ran off have already returned, eating as mindlessly as before. They don't appear to be any worse for wear or under any additional stress than they were before you knocked one of the farm hands on his ass.
“They don't look any different to me. I'm out of here.”
“Yes, I think that's an agreement.”
She lowers two fingers on her left hand, leaving only her pinky and index finger raised. Your eyes lower as you realize it's some type of signal—
Your brains are blown out of your skull before you can process any additional thoughts. As your body crashes lifelessly to the ground, the sows again look over to see what has happened, before shrugging and going back to eating.
Mistress Everett kneels over your body as blood pours of the side of your head.
“It's such a waste when so much potential is lost. Oh well,” she says, tracing a finger up your thigh. “It doesn't mean I'm not going to eat you. It just means I’ll have to stick to the classics, instead of knowing what you'll taste best with.”
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Mistress Everett hums a tune that would be familiar to you if you were still alive.
“This little piggy went to market...”
She picks up a slice of your thigh, cut into a perfect chop, and drops it into a plastic bag.
“This little piggy went home…”
She shakes the bag as she takes an egg and cracks it, pouring the contents inside.
“This little piggy had roast beef…”
As your chop shakes in the bag, bread crumbs stick to it and harden around it to form a crust.
“This little piggy had none...”
She giggles to herself as she sets your breaded pork chops on a baking sheet.
“And this little piggy cried wee wee wee…”
She slides your chops into the oven to cook.
“…all the way home.”
*******************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs Afternoon, Feeding Troughs ->Fattening]]Abutit sits at her kitchen table, finishing her last spoonful from a large bowl of soup. She leans her head back as she chews your flesh and swallows it down her gullet. She picks up the bowl and licks it with her forked tongue, collecting every last drop of you before letting the bowl slam onto the table. Her belly protrudes comically over her waist, like she's pregnant with triplets from the amount of food she's consumed.
The cauldron that your entire body was cooked in is empty. There is none left. She’s eaten all of you in one sitting and can barely move as she gently pats her stomach and licks her lips, savoring the final taste of you as it goes down for digestion.
Just then, you wake back up. Somehow. You're in a dark place, and you can't see. You're floating, almost as if you don't exist, except for your consciousness.
"Where am I?" you say out loud into the strange void.
You hear chattering in the distance—voices. Almost like they're talking quietly to themselves and not to you. You swear you hear one of them say to just tell you. You hear another say it can wait. Another suggests playing a joke. Whatever is happening, it makes you very uncomfortable.
Suddenly, a clear voice speaks to you, to whatever is left of you, in this endless, absent, void-like place.
"I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you, but you're trapped here."
"Trapped?"
"When the witch eats people like she does, she doesn't just consume their flesh; she consumes their souls. We're all trapped here. Everyone that she's ever eaten is trapped inside of her body, a prisoner for as long as she lives."
"How long have you been here? How do we get out?"
"Oh, there's no time in this place. It feels like an eternity, and there's no escape. We're now a part of her forever. All of us. You might as well just get used to it."
You start to feel the essence of the others who have been consumed, who surround you. You can feel their empathy. But the one emotion you don't feel is hope, as they have accepted that for decades, centuries, or possibly millennia, they'll be trapped in this place forever."I don't consent, Charlene. I don't want to be your roast. You haven't broken me, and you never will."
“Oh, I’m so TIRED of this charade, Scarlett. You’ll never be able to rectify this. You’ll never be fulfilled if you don’t give in to me. You’ll live the rest of your life wondering why you never lived your greatest fantasy, all the while your delicious meat will go to waste.”
Char holds her hand in front of your face, putting down fingers until she has only two, THOSE two, in front of your eyes, before she draws her hand back and lines them up with your pussy.
You only breathe heavily in response.
“Consider this a glow up at 350 degrees. I'm going to self-actualize the fuck out of you until the little timer pops out to let me know you're good and..."
She slips her two fingers inside you.
"...all done."
The release of pleasure is beyond orgasmic; an indescribable rush of sexuality that breaks the boundaries of what you ever thought was possible.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh...oh..."
Charlene milks an orgasm out of your body that destroys any remaining rationale thought, shattering your remaining resistance into tiny pieces, scattered in your subconscious. As you squirt all the way down her forearm, years of edging being set free, your body explodes like you’re experiencing every single fantasy you’ve had over the last five years happening all at once.
It is a literal rapture of climax, severing your existence as Scarlett Sky entirely from your body, leaving only an aching, yearning, lusting animal, craving just one more thing to bring finality to this moment. There is a best a sliver of your former identity left, and it’s powerless to say or do anything to prevent the inevitable.
"Now." Charlene says. "Tell me that you-"
"PLEASE roast me right now. Please. I need to feel the heat."
"That's better. It would've been a crime to let you go the rest of your life not knowing how good THAT felt. Deep down, you call it surrender, or being conquered, or broken, but I call it - the calling of your soul, realized."
She sucks your juices off her fingers, nodding to herself.
"It's time for you to release, accept, and find bliss in the only place you've ever dreamt of..."
She nods to Jenna who loads you and Zoe on a rolling cart.
"...your oven."
You pant like an animal in heat as you're rolled to the edge of the oven, the blast of heat encircling your body just as the door opens. You look over to Zoe, and she looks at peace. And yet...
...you know that underneath, at least for her, she's still holding on to something.
[[Ask to be able to hold hands with Zoe as you roast. You don't want her to die feeling alone. ->Good Ending]]
[[Ask to be have one hand free to play with yourself. It’ll free your hand – and how could Charlene turn down such a request? ->Cornish Hens]]"Please go as fast as you can. Please. Please..." you moan out, slamming your eyes shut, your breath caught in your chest.
Just as you're about to orgasm, she begins to finger you fast and hard. The change of pace wakes you up more than it arouses you, as you've always been a motion of the ocean type of girl. Your breathing steadies and you're able to open your eyes again, still yourself, with a few minutes burned off the clock.
"Oh, I lost you, didn't I? Hmmm..."
Ella picks up her pen and begins to draw dotted line over your shoulders, neck, and biceps. Her other hand continues to work, as it slows it's pace and works to lull you back to sleep.
"Maybe something more savory for tonight, then. Something more filling..."
Ella writes "BURGER" across your arm.
You know, people look down on ground meat. But it's SO versatile. It really can go into anything—not only into the sauce, but also between layers of noodles and cheese...
You start to realize how she's describing how she plans to serve you and your hips begin to rock back and forth. It's a favorite of yours, too, and your mouth is beginning to water...
...and so are you, on the inside.
"Oh no..." you mutter.
"That's right. You want to be baked into a perfect lasagna, don't you? Just give in to me. God, you're going to be delicious. And the orgasm I'm about to pull out of your body is going to make you taste EVEN better."
You need a distraction, quick, or you're going to cum all over hand, and then be bled out and ground up for tonight's dinner.
[[Ask her to stick a finger in your ass as a last request. ->Anal Wake]]
[[Ask her to squeeze your throat as a last request. ->Lasagna]]You've had enough of this—enough of him calling you a bitch and how he's going to turn you into a trophy. This is a man who has apparently spent his life advancing himself solely on the women he's murdered. You won't stand for it, and you certainly won't stand him.
You step and sweep around him so you can slide in behind him and choke him to sleep. Just as you gives up his back, you swoop in and lock in a rear naked choke. You see him try and lower his jaw to bite your arm, but you've already gotten underneath his neck and he has no position to reach you.
"I'm going to put you to sleep and then tie you up. By the time you wake up, I'll have gone. If you come looking for me again..."
You cinch in the choke and squeeze tight.
"...I'll fucking kill you. Do you understand?"
He struggles to try and get you off of him, reaching for your arms and your face, but you have the leverage and position. His hands then wander somewhere you do not expect, as they slither behind his back and between your legs, and you feel your face flush. You aren't wearing panties under your dress, as there wasn't any to steal, and his hand begins to pull at your inner thigh.
"You know you want to give in..." He says through gritted teeth. You know deep down you're tired of all your responsibility and just want to be MY fucking dinner. You don't think I know what you are?"
"Ugh..."
Your voice betrays you as you quietly moan out. You feel your hips sliding forward, your cunt eager for some pressure against it, so you collect yourself and slide your hips back, losing a little leverage on his neck. He's also able to use the space you've created to slide his hand over the top of your hood and starts to knead.
"That's right. I've broken so many women like you, and they all have one thing in common. They all deep down want to be eaten by a man like me - a real man, a dominant alpha who sees them for what they really are - not a strong leader, but a weak, horny little meatgirl who craves deep down in her soul to be conquered and consumed. I know you masturbate to this, Scarlett."
You feel your arms go limp and fall to your sides as your eyes glaze over, and he takes the opportunity to lean his head forward, and then suddenly back, headbutting you on the chin and knocking you flat on your back. He turns over and stacks your legs over your shoulders, simulatinously sliding two fingers in your soaking cunt.
You bite your lip so hard that blood draws as you try and hold in the gutteral moan that screams out from your core.
"That's right. Give in to me. Give your body and your legacy to ME and I'll make sure you're well preserved as a part of my collection. THIS is your fucking destiny, you hear me? Not to be a world changing CEO or a hero, but to be on a fucking plate of a real man and a war story to be told over cigars while you're on display in my den."
[[Enjoy this fucking moment. He's right about literally everything and this is just too hot. ->MINDBREAK LEIKR 5]]
[[Try to resist. Fight back when you see an opening. Don't lose sight of who you are. ->MINDBREAK LEIKR 12]]
[[#$%^ %^&%^&* ^&*( &*$% %^&#@$%? ->MINDBREAK LEIKR 3]]It's only a 20-minute walk, at a fast pace, from the LFD Underground to Bestiame, the feed shop just outside the city center in Dolcett. You sneak behind and between large wooden crates as you eye the supply truck, just as Phoenix had told you it would be here. As you see the last of the supplies loaded up and the two men hop into the truck, you make your break for it, running in a crouch quickly past the side mirrors and hopping up onto the lip and into the bed.
You ride sitting on bags of feed for those enslaved—a cornmeal-style gruel that, in lieu of nutritional facts, lists the amount, per pound, that it can grow on the average sow. The women who are kept in the place you now travel to are valued only for the output they have after death, their existence being merely a transitional period until they fulfill the only purpose for which they are seen. You are hoping to be a part of something that can change that, but for now, you've got to get through this and move on to save Zoe.
You watch and wait for the marker that Phoenix had identified: a large, shady tree that is your signal to hop off before you go too deeply into the farm territory and are seen for sure—either by an owner, a farmhand, or a confused sow. You hop off just as the shade hits the dirt road and roll directly underneath and into the tall grass, watching the truck and hoping you aren't seen. You see the brake lights flash and the truck slow for a moment before it continues on down the road.
You're on your own now, and you immediately notice that everything looks exactly the same. You look to your left and to your right—barbed wire, metal posts, and warnings of electricity.
You even see naked women, women JUST like you, except... fatter, much fatter, grazing on their hands and knees in the field. They appear to be wearing something at their necks or their noses, but it's hard to make out from this distance. You even notice what appears to be two of them playing with each other, scissoring while kissing in the dirt, with an armed farmhand walking by, business as usual.
As you sneak ahead, you reach your first fork in the road. It's just like Phoenix said—you'll just have to take your best guess.
[[Take the first path going left. ->Second Coin Flip]]
[[Take the first path going right.->Caught A]]
[if hasFarmMap]
[[Item Choice: You look down at the map. The clear path for the first fork is left. ->Second Coin Flip]]hasDeeNeck:false
--
You spend the rest of the night, and into the dawn, walking back toward the city center in the distance. Any time a car passes, you quickly hide, not wanting to risk any further exposure. There's just too much to explain—you're shoeless, soaked in dried marinade, and your skin looks like you've spent the entire day at the hottest beach.
Or the hottest oven.
As you grow tired, you find a discreet place to rest. As you do, your mind begins to wander, and you wish you had something to pass the time.
Your fingers begin to trace the passages of Dee's book.
You decide to be her first reader.
*On a late December evening, my dad asked if I would help load my mother onto the cart that would wheel her into the oven. I still remember the look of desperation in her eyes as she assured me that this was what she always wanted. That it was an honor to serve our family on such a joyous holiday, and that she was grateful to be the centerpiece and roast that would be remembered forever.*
*And yet, again, I saw the same betrayal in her eyes as I had six months before. But this time, she didn’t just say it to try to soothe my sorrow—she was saying it to convince herself, her body ripe with consternation, that despite her own words, she knew she could have been something more if only given the chance. I made a vow to myself that day that I would carry her dreams inside of me, and I would never lose sight of my own goal to be more than this world allowed me to be.*
*I would be something that would change this world for all women—to validate that her existence wasn’t erased the moment her body expired in the oven.*
You take the opportunity to run through a sprinkler system in the early morning to wash off the orange-based baste that had soaked you from head to toe. You rip off a piece of your dress to tie your hair up in a bun. Then you're able to grab a pair of loafers from a porch to complete your look, and by midday, you're finally able to see the city center.
As you cross an old wooden bridge that routes walkers, runners, and cyclists into town, no one recognizes you—not as Claire Wood, not as a runaway oven roast, and certainly not as—
"That's a nice dress on you, Scarlett Sky."
The hairs on the back of your neck recognize who this is long before your eyes or your ears. You turn your head, but you don't even have to see the person who just spoke to you to recognize the voice. The man who stood in the dark on Monday night now leans on the rail at the end of the bridge you MUST cross to save Zoe.
"To be fair, though, it doesn't really suit you," Leikr says. "You're going to be best displayed on the wall, or in a case, or maybe on my end table... I haven't really decided how I'm going to mount you in my home..." he says, smiling. "...but I have decided that the time HAS come for you to join my collection."
You drag your right foot back and take a more athletic fighting stance, preparing yourself for whatever may come next.
"It would be a crime to try and take me, Leikr - not to mention a mistake. I don't want to fight you - but I won't let you kill me, either..." you say, not letting down your guard.
He chuckles.
"I have no right to try and capture Claire Wood, but YOU are Scarlett Sky...here illegally, under a false name, and with such a detailed dossier. I'm quite convinced the police would see it my way."
You feel your shoulders slump as you realize he's right - however he found out your cover aside, he could kill you and face little recourse.
You see his eyes wander to the suburb behind you.
"Yes, to say I was a little disappointed in you when I saw you wheeled out in a grocery cart to be a full roast for that little housewife is an understatement. But if you had gone and gotten yourself eaten like that, you wouldn't have been a worthy trophy after all. But the fact that..."
He makes a sudden lunge toward you, and your arms raise in response, but you do not back down or flinch. He nods and slowly circles you.
"...the fact that your skin clearly shows you've spent some time inside an oven, and yet you're still here... well, it just makes you that much more interesting. And interesting women make such good conversation pieces, wouldn't you agree?"
"I'd say that interesting women are great on their own merits," you clap back. "Not for what they can do or how they are defined by someone else. You want to make me one of your antiques, but you're just antiquated. Time has little patience for people like you."
"Is that so? I think that, in time, history will remember ME for my conquests, and it will remember YOU as one of my exhibits. But first, of course, an exhibition is in order."
He extends his arms, perpendicular to the horizon, as he stands in place.
"I'm afraid I can't let anyone else have a chance at you. So please, resist all you want, but understand, as I said before..." he says, flashing a wicked grin. "There are no choices for any woman when they face Leikr - only death, consumption, and display."
You decide you've had enough talk—it's time to take action.
[[Try and run past him and continue on to the city center. Zoe is still the priority. ->Hood Ornament]]
[[Run straight at him and take him by surprise. Time is of the essence here. ->Surprise Attack]]You spend the rest of the night, and into the dawn, walking back toward the city center in the distance. Any time a car passes, you quickly hide, not wanting to risk any further exposure. There's just too much to explain—you're shoeless, soaked in dried marinade, and your skin looks like you've spent the entire day at the hottest beach.
Or the hottest oven.
As you grow tired, you find a discreet place to rest. As you do, your mind begins to wander, and you wish you had something to pass the time.
Your fingers begin to trace the passages of Dee's book.
You decide to be her first reader.
"They say that your first memory as a child is the first time you doubt the true nature of the world. Mine is still vivid in my mind - it's the look on my mother's face the first time she told me something that her expression didn't match. As my father finished preparing her to roast in an oven, she spoke bravely, but I could tell she was very sad.
As I watched her accept this fate, I made a decision that's stuck with me ever since. I decided to honor her that by always choosing to be different."
You take the opportunity to run through a sprinkler system in the early morning to wash off the orange-based baste that had soaked you from head to toe. You rip off a piece of your dress to tie your hair up in a bun. Then you're able to grab a pair of loafers from a porch to complete your look, and by midday, you're finally able to see the city center.
As you cross an old wooden bridge that routes walkers, runners, and cyclists into town, no one recognizes you—not as Claire Wood, not as a runaway oven roast, and certainly not as—
"That's a nice dress on you, Scarlett Sky."
The hairs on the back of your neck recognize who this is long before your eyes or your ears. You turn your head, but you don't even have to see the person who just spoke to you to recognize the voice. The man who stood in the dark on Monday night now leans on the rail at the end of the bridge you MUST cross to save Zoe.
"To be fair, though, it doesn't really suit you," Leikr says. "You're going to be best displayed on the wall, or in a case, or maybe on my end table... I haven't really decided how I'm going to mount you in my home..." he says, smiling. "...but I have decided that the time HAS come for you to join my collection."
You drag your right foot back and take a more athletic fighting stance, preparing yourself for whatever may come next.
"It would be a crime to try and take me, Leikr - not to mention a mistake. I don't want to fight you - but I won't let you kill me, either..." you say, not letting down your guard.
He chuckles.
"I have no right to try and capture Claire Wood, but YOU are Scarlett Sky...here illegally, under a false name, and with such a detailed dossier. I'm quite convinced the police would see it my way."
You feel your shoulders slump as you realize he's right - however he found out your cover aside, he could kill you and face little recourse.
You see his eyes wander to the suburb behind you.
"Yes, to say I was a little disappointed in you when I saw you wheeled out in a grocery cart to be a full roast for that little housewife is an understatement. But if you had gone and gotten yourself eaten like that, you wouldn't have been a worthy trophy after all. But the fact that..."
He makes a sudden lunge toward you, and your arms raise in response, but you do not back down or flinch. He nods and slowly circles you.
"...the fact that your skin clearly shows you've spent some time inside an oven, and yet you're still here... well, it just makes you that much more interesting. And interesting women make such good conversation pieces, wouldn't you agree?"
"I'd say that interesting women are great on their own merits," you clap back. "Not for what they can do or how they are defined by someone else. You want to make me one of your antiques, but you're just antiquated. Time has little patience for people like you."
"Is that so? I think that, in time, history will remember ME for my conquests, and it will remember YOU as one of my exhibits. But first, of course, an exhibition is in order."
He extends his arms, perpendicular to the horizon, as he stands in place.
"I'm afraid I can't let anyone else have a chance at you. So please, resist all you want, but understand, as I said before..." he says, flashing a wicked grin. "There are no choices for any woman when they face Leikr - only death, consumption, and display."
You decide you've had enough talk—it's time to take action.
[[Try and run past him and continue on to the city center. Zoe is still the priority. ->Hood Ornament]]
[[Run straight at him and take him by surprise. Time is of the essence here. ->Surprise Attack]]hasDeeNeck:true
--
You spend the rest of the night, and into the dawn, walking back toward the city center in the distance. Any time a car passes, you quickly hide, not wanting to risk any further exposure. There's just too much to explain—you're shoeless, soaked in dried marinade, and your skin looks like you've spent the entire day at the hottest beach.
Or the hottest oven.
As you grow tired, you find a discreet place to rest. As you do, your mind begins to wander, and you wish you had something to pass the time.
Your fingers begin to trace the passages of Dee's book.
You decide to be her first reader.
*On a late December evening, my dad asked if I would help load my mother onto the cart that would wheel her into the oven. I still remember the look of desperation in her eyes as she assured me that this was what she always wanted. That it was an honor to serve our family on such a joyous holiday, and that she was grateful to be the centerpiece and roast that would be remembered forever.*
*And yet, again, I saw the same betrayal in her eyes as I had six months before. But this time, she didn’t just say it to try to soothe my sorrow—she was saying it to convince herself, her body ripe with consternation, that despite her own words, she knew she could have been something more if only given the chance. I made a vow to myself that day that I would carry her dreams inside of me, and I would never lose sight of my own goal to be more than this world allowed me to be.*
*I would be something that could change this world for all women—to validate that her existence wasn’t erased as her body expired in the oven.*
You take the opportunity to run through a sprinkler system in the early morning to wash off the orange-based baste that had soaked you from head to toe. You rip off a piece of your dress to tie your hair up in a bun. Then you're able to grab a pair of loafers from a porch to complete your look, and by midday, you're finally able to see the city center.
As you cross an old wooden bridge that routes walkers, runners, and cyclists into town, no one recognizes you—not as Claire Wood, not as a runaway oven roast, and certainly not as—
"That's a nice dress on you, Scarlett Sky."
The hairs on the back of your neck recognize who this is long before your eyes or your ears. You turn your head, but you don't even have to see the person who just spoke to you to recognize the voice. The man who stood in the dark on Monday night now leans on the rail at the end of the bridge you MUST cross to save Zoe.
"To be fair, though, it doesn't really suit you," Leikr says. "You're going to be best displayed on the wall, or in a case, or maybe on my end table... I haven't really decided how I'm going to mount you in my home..." he says, smiling. "...but I have decided that the time HAS come for you to join my collection."
You drag your right foot back and take a more athletic fighting stance, preparing yourself for whatever may come next.
"It would be a crime to try and take me, Leikr - not to mention a mistake. I don't want to fight you - but I won't let you kill me, either..." you say, not letting down your guard.
He chuckles.
"I have no right to try and capture Claire Wood, but YOU are Scarlett Sky...here illegally, under a false name, and with such a detailed dossier. I'm quite convinced the police would see it my way."
You feel your shoulders slump as you realize he's right - however he found out your cover aside, he could kill you and face little recourse.
You see his eyes wander to the suburb behind you.
"Yes, to say I was a little disappointed in you when I saw you wheeled out in a grocery cart to be a full roast for that little housewife is an understatement. But if you had gone and gotten yourself eaten like that, you wouldn't have been a worthy trophy after all. But the fact that..."
He makes a sudden lunge toward you, and your arms raise in response, but you do not back down or flinch. He nods and slowly circles you.
"...the fact that your skin clearly shows you've spent some time inside an oven, and yet you're still here... well, it just makes you that much more interesting. And interesting women make such good conversation pieces, wouldn't you agree?"
"I'd say that interesting women are great on their own merits," you clap back. "Not for what they can do or how they are defined by someone else. You want to make me one of your antiques, but you're just antiquated. Time has little patience for people like you."
"Is that so? I think that, in time, history will remember ME for my conquests, and it will remember YOU as one of my exhibits. But first, of course, an exhibition is in order."
He extends his arms, perpendicular to the horizon, as he stands in place.
"I'm afraid I can't let anyone else have a chance at you. So please, resist all you want, but understand, as I said before..." he says, flashing a wicked grin. "There are no choices for any woman when they face Leikr - only death, consumption, and display."
You decide you've had enough talk—it's time to take action.
[[Try and run past him and continue on to the city center. Zoe is still the priority. ->Hood Ornament]]
[[Run straight at him and take him by surprise. Time is of the essence here. ->Surprise Attack]]As you watch Puma and Zoe slip off toward the radio tower, and Phoenix and Blueberry march with the LFD through the center of the street, you race ahead. Sure, you're naked, but every woman in this parade is naked, and nudity is commonplace here.
The only thing you're wearing is Asher's pendant, which you hold against your chest for a moment, a warmth glowing inside you. But, for once, it is not a sensation of heat between your legs.
It is flowing from your heart.
As you reach the lead float, you see half a dozen women on it, all of them bound, strapped, or displayed in perilous positions. All of the roasting and cooking favorites are on display here—a girl is tied to a spit, one is sitting in a pot, and one is sitting inside an oven, trussed and ready to roast. None of them are being cooked yet, but they all will be roasted once they reach the town square.
You jump up onto the float and begin to speak.
“Now, I know for a fact that every single one of you was a married woman who thought you were safe from being eaten before you ended up here. Am I right?”
There’s some mumbling, some looking around, and some quiet agreement as the women sit paralyzed with defeat, unwilling to speak out.
As you scan the float, you notice that a TV crew is now walking alongside you, curiously filming. Your protest is drawing attention, but it hasn't won anyone over yet.
“I have to find a way to get through to them—but how?”
[[Tell them about your experiences. Bear your soul. The entire world, even your world, will hear about who you really are, but that is how connection is built. ->Floats 2]]
[[Stick to Phoenix's message. It's less about you, and more about them. Convince them that rising up can change everything. That is how devotion to a cause is built. ->Scarlett Float]]"Listen to me." You say as you begin untying the woman strapped to the spitting machine. "My name is Scarlett Sky, and I'm the CEO of SkyCorp. It’s a corporation based in North Carolina that grants travel visas to women from the USA who want to travel to Dolcett to indulge in their ultimate fantasy… to be eaten."
"You're THE Scarlett Sky?" the woman you're untying asks, just as you loosen her binds.
Yes, and I'm here today because I am ALSO the woman who has kept unwilling women safe from being eaten, too. I've made it my life's mission to see that no innocent woman ever ends up on a plate. And today, I stand with the Ladies of Dolcett as we stand for a woman's right to choose, to be free, and to have a true right to consent to exist on this very special holiday.
You pull the woman out of the soup cauldron and set her down on the float.
"Now, if you're listening to the sound of my voice..."
You notice that the parade onlookers are now filming you as well.
"...you're probably wondering why I'd be willing to go this far, too. The truth is, I..."
You stammer for a second but steady yourself. You commit yourself.
“…I, too, have the same cravings you have. Deep down, I want to roast in an oven. But when I finally do, I want it to be by MY choice. No one else’s! MINE! And that’s the right that every woman in this country deserves!”
You smile as you unstrap the woman tied to an oven roasting pan.
“So, if you believe in the same things I do, then march with us to the town square. Show you don’t consent to this. Stand for the belief that any woman can be whatever they want in this world!”
You look around at the untied women, waiting for a response. For a second, every camera seems a little bigger—the spectacle of the moment, the success of the entire operation, feeling like it hinges on their response.
One of the women slowly steps forward.
“My husband told me he loved me every night and that he would never, ever eat me. He...signed me up for this without even asking me.”
Another steps toward you.
“When my husband told me he signed me up to be soup, he didn’t even look me in the eye. He just said, ‘Guess what, honey? You’re the guest of honor at this year’s Dolcett Day boil.’ What the hell kind of honor is that?”
A third joins the group, with the rest following behind.
“I helped my husband snuff my best friend so I could take her place as his wife, just so I could be safe. She even told me, as he cooked her alive, that she didn’t blame me. The problem is, I blame myself every day…”
She wipes away a tear as the women hug her.
“…there has to be a better way!”
The women cheer and stand with you, poised to join the LFD movement. You smile as you wave your arm for them to follow behind you as you rush toward the town square.
[if trail.includes('FreedomE')]
Phoenix and Blueberry are all set.
[else]
[[Follow Phoenix and Blueberry to meet the police head-on in their effort to convince them that they cannot legally stop your demonstration. ->Freedom A]]
[if trail.includes('RadioE')]
Zoe and Puma are all set.
[else]
[[Follow Puma and Zoe to the radio tower in their effort to shut down the emergency system that would render the LFD incapacitated. ->Radio Tower]]
[if trail.includes('Floats 2')]
Scarlett is all set.
[else]
[[Follow Scarlett as she rushes to the front of the parade in her effort to convince the Dolcett Day volunteers that there is a better life than becoming a holiday plate. ->Floats]]
[if trail.includes('FreedomE') & trail.includes ('RadioE') & trail.includes ('Floats 2')]
[[Advance to - Friday Noon, Town Square ->Duel One]]
[else]You grab the spinning spit with both hands and bend your knees as you straighten your back, using your lats to row the sharp instrument backward. It continues to press forward, but you don't relent. Eventually, you feel it stop spinning, the red light on the machine beginning to flash as an error message appears on the console.
"Scarlett... you did it... you saved me?"
"I wouldn't say saved, yet. You're still clasped in this deathtrap. I don't know how to unlock it."
"Have you tried saying 'open sesame'?"
"Zoe, this is no time for—"
The clasps all suddenly unlock simultaneously as the red light on the control panel flashes an error.
"Well. That's something," you say, shaking your head as you lift Zoe up. "Can you walk?"
"Oh, Scarlett, it was so terrible," Zoe says as you extract her from the machine one limb at a time. "They had me soaking in that marinade since I last saw you. My body is so weak."
"It's something they put in the sauce. It causes muscle breakdown to make your meat more tender," you mutter. "I'm just going to have to carry you out of here."
You kneel down as you position Zoe behind you and fireman-carry her over your shoulder. You turn to head back out the back door, but the head chef is taking in another delivery. You sigh and turn to head out the service door, toward the hallway that leads to the dining area, before someone steps into your path.
"Now where in the HELL do you think you're going?" the sous chef says.
[[Throw your best punch into his jaw, push past him, and race out of here. ->Asher Dines]]
[[It'll be tough to fight with Zoe on your back. Try and talk your way out of this. -> Banquet On the Run]]You remember that the Baron has specifically said Zoe would be spitted and cooked alive. Just as you turn to make haste in that direction, you hear the sous chef yell.
"SPIT NUMBER 3 JUST OPENED UP!"
You watch as a fully cooked, spitted woman is carried away from a bed of hot coals and brought over to a carving table.
"She can't be Zoe...can she?" you whimper.
You take one step toward the spitting station when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn and see the head chef standing right over you. Your eyes meet his, fear overwhelming you, and you realize that this is probably the expression he's used to seeing on a female subordinate.
"You. Come with me. I need an extra set of hands."
You follow behind him into the walk-in, a lightly refrigerated area as big as your entire apartment. You see various body parts hung up, curing and aging, the other parts of whomever this was already consumed. As you walk to the back, past various pre-made sauces and stocks, you see one woman, shaved bald, shivering in a large pot.
You gasp as you see the only thing she’s wearing - a pearl necklace strung tightly around her neck.
"We've had this one marinating for nearly 24 hours, as the Baron specifically requested. And..."
He checks his watch. You sneak a peek as well. It's 5:30 p.m.
"...her time is up."
Your conversation with the Baron took place just after the siren yesterday, just after 5:00 p.m. You realize that this must be, could only be...
The head chef lifts her up by the shoulders, and gestures for you to grab her legs. Her body is cold and weak as you walk her into the kitchen and directly to the spitting area.
The spitting machine is an infernal device of culinary ingenuity that could only be developed in a heartless place like this. A woman is clasped into place by her wrists and neck into a station that lines her cunt directly up with a metallic spit. The motorized device then slowly pushes forward, entering through her pussy, and slowly tearing through her body until it exits out of her mouth. Half way through, a saw underneath will slice her open, her guts conveniently sliding down a chute that disposes of her organs directly into the trash.
You can't get a look at the woman’s face you are carrying as the head chef hoists her right onto the empty station. She doesn't resist as he quickly straps her ankles to harnesses, checks the bind at her wrists that tie her arms behind her back, and snaps his fingers for you to hold her head in place as a metal cuff secures her at the neck. He walks away just as the sous chef takes over, and you linger nearby and wait for your opportunity.
"Please... can you wait a minute?" you hear the doomed woman say just in front of you.
"Wait a minute?! What for?" the sous chef says.
"Um... I think someone might be coming... to rescue me..."
"Whatever you say," he says, slapping the girl on the ass. "I won't be around to see your rescue. I WILL be around to carry you over the flame - of which, YOU will still be around for. The Baron has it on your instructions that you're to feel what it's like to cook alive - lucky you."
"...I just need a few more minutes...please..."
"You still got time, sweetheart."
"Thank you." the woman graciously responds.
"Oh, don't thank me. The spit takes five minutes to get through you, but the point of no return is about 90 seconds in, where it passes through your vaginal wall and the saw underneath slices you open and your guts spill out."
He presses a large, square, green button, and the spit whirrs with life, slowly sliding towards the entrance to the woman's vagina.
"Now you'll excuse me as I have some ‘her d’oeuvres’ to keep from burning." The sous chef says as he walks away, chuckling, as the woman squirms against the inevitable.
The spit slowly pushes itself inside her cunt, her walls stretching to meet its fit.
"Please... no... I know you're coming to save me... you promised..."
You step in front of the woman's face and smile in relief.
"And I keep my promises."
"Wait, Scarlett, is that YOU—" Zoe says, just as you slip your hand over her mouth.
"No talking right now. I've got to figure out how to turn this thing off."
"Hurry. It's hurting me..."
The spit presses into Zoe's inner wall, with her body attempting to pushing back. It’s unlikely she’ll last longer than a few seconds before she's skewered through and her guts are slid out.
[[Grab the spit with your hands and force it backwards. There's no point in trying to understand this machine. ->Force Spit]]
[[Go over to the control panel and press the button that started the machine. Start and stop are usually the same button, right? ->Butchered Steaks]]
[if hasManual]
[[Item Choice: You pull the spitting manual out of your pocket. It says the only way to stop an active spit is by force. ->Force Spit]]hasFourItem: true
--
You keep rushing forward through what appears to be grass, and then the outlines of a private property line come into view in the distance. You can't believe it—defying the odds, you made the correct turn four times and have run out of the farm area and into the meadow that leads to the banquet lodge.
You feel emboldened—fate is clearly on your side. Zoe is near. You only need to walk a few more hours and you'll be at the banquet hall.
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to - Thurs PM->Banquet Outside Livestock Clothed]]You continue on, this time taking the path right. As you sneak along the fence line, you can see trees far in the distance, and you feel a sense of hope as you're getting close to getting out of here in one piece, instead of several. Your feet pick up the pace and you move quicker, rushing to what you hope will be the fourth and final forkway between this existance as Scarlett Sky and another as Scarlett Sow.
You're breathing heavily now and not as aware of your surroundings when a suddenly loud moaning sound startles you so strong that you nearly tumble over. You turn your head and realize it wasn't so much a moaning, but a moo-ing as a sow is looking at you curiously front the other side of an electric fence. She stomps her hands and feet into the dirt and moos louder than the first time, and you scan around.
Luckily, again, there is no guards or supply truck nearby to hear her, and you get back on your feet to reach the fourth fork in the road.
"I'm almost there...I can DO this."
[[Take the second path going left.->Four for Four]]
[[Take the second path going right.->Caught D]]<span style="color: #0041C2">
Blueberry stands proudly next to Phoenix, her smile unwavering even in the face of death. She feels a rush of pride at seeing her owner—no, she corrects herself, after so many years of conditioning—seeing her best friend lead the march to free **all** of the women in Dolcett, even those held as livestock at Bouvier Farms.
She even hopes that, one day, she can see her younger sister again, assuming she hasn't been eaten, as Blueberry was liberated so many years ago.
Regardless, Blueberry looks over and nods as she listens to Phoenix's words.
"You can call this an unlawful assembly if you wish. But let us make it completely clear: We do **not** consent to being eaten on this day. We do not **consent** to being cooked. And we will **not** consent to being taken against our will."
Blueberry nods eagerly and waves at the police with a smile, awaiting their response.
The police captain slowly lowers his megaphone.
"Uh, boss, shouldn't we go and arrest them?"
"Yes, that would be standard procedure. But, son, what is the protocol for an arresting officer?"
"Well, in a non-lethal manner, the officer making the arrest has full rights and privilege to eat the offender."
"That's correct."
"But these women don't consent to being eaten, boss."
"I realize that."
"So what do we do? Arrest them tomorrow?"
"I think I'm going to need to call HQ on this..."
Blueberry watches as Phoenix gives the signal for the LFD to continue marching forward, but she doesn't follow right away. She listens intently as the officers continue their conversation.
“Can’t we at least take back the livestock ones? They is just mindless stolen property, aren’t they boss?”
“You got a point there, son…”
[[Have Blueberry show off her scar to all the people in the crowd, trying to get their message across. ->Blueberry ending]]
[[Have Blueberry start signing to all of the people in the crowd, trying to get their message across. ->FreedomE]]<span style="color: #CC3600;">
*I really have to find the words. I can't fail everyone now.*
Phoenix marches with Blueberry at her side, the entirety of the LFD behind them. She tries to rehearse the words she's planned for years in her head, but she can't clear her mind.
*I'm going to have to exist in the moment. Trust myself. Speak from the heart. Let the facts of the cause be known. They’ve probably got their best men working today, they won’t be easy to convince.*
Phoenix looks forward as she sees a police captain and deputy just ahead, watching the floats for the Dolcett Day parade go by.
---
"I'm telling you, working Dolcett Day is the best assignment you can have all year," the police captain says, waving at a float advertising woman-sized air fryers.
"Why is that, boss?" a younger, pimply deputy responds.
"Nothing ever happens on D-Day, that's why. It's a national celebration. Heck, I remember my first D-Day. I was upset about being away from the Mrs. I was planning on having her for supper myself, but the moral is, you can take home TRIPLE PAY and always have her for leftovers the next day."
"Ha-ha-ha. Yeah, good point, boss."
"Yeah, and the way I see it, not a single crime is ever going to be committed on D-Day because everyone's so darn happy, men and women alike."
"It is a joyous day, boss."
"Sure is. Heck, the womenfolk are even happier than normal to be cut up and eaten," he says, nudging his elbow into his younger deputy. "And the guys, well, it's a great opportunity to show off their patriotism, their pride, and their patriarchy as heads of households by having their ladies volunteer to be the annual barbecue. Now, who would ever disrupt something like that?"
"Can't think of a soul, boss. Can't think of a soul."
"Yes, sir. Heck. Triple pay. Practically highway robbery, if you ask me."
"Ah, BOSS..." the deputy says, his voice rising as he turns his head.
"Yes, deputy, and I do not appreciate your increased vernacular. You could startle a man."
"Uh, sir. Captain. Boss. Sir. May I ask a question?" he says, his head still turned.
"I say you SURE are talking a lot for OUR day off now. What is your question, deputy?"
"Well, boss, uh, I know nothing's supposed to happen, nothing out of the ordinary, at least here on this joyous date, but..."
"SPIT IT OUT, boy."
"It's just... well... what in the good old-fangled woman-eating world is THAT?"
The police captain turns to meet his deputy's line of sight, seeing the forty five women, led by Scarlett and Phoenix, marching toward them.
"I don't know who they are, son, but I can tell you one thing..." he says as he picks up his megaphone. “They aren’t going any further.”
"NOW, HOLD ON A MINUTE, THIS HERE PARADE ROUTE IS FOR FLOATS ONLY. YOU CAN'T BE MARCHIN' WITHOUT NO FLOAT."
Phoenix does not stop marching, straight down the street and directly to the officer's position.
"What if they is them ladies, boss? You know, the terrorist group?"
The police captain bashes the deputy over the head with the megaphone.
"They ain't no terrorist group, son. They don't take action out in the open like this. Don't you pay attention at your briefings?"
"I fell asleep, boss. There's so rarely a crime, boss."
"I am going to report you to our suh-peer-rior as soon as this shift is over," he says, turning to raise the megaphone as you are now within 100 feet.
"I SAID, THIS IS AN UNLAWFUL ASSEMBLY. TURN BACK OR ELSE."
[[Have Phoenix explain that she recognizes that her assembly is illegal, but that she does not consent to being eaten. ->Freedom 2]]
[[Have Phoenix explain that they are welcome to try and stop her by force, but she has a right to assemble as it's Dolcett Day. ->Phx ending]]Blueberry runs over to the lines of people surrounding the street, frantically signing, “I do not consent,” over and over to each and every onlooker she passes. As she does, the crowd leans in, their curiosity growing, and many pull out their phones and begin recording. There’s something about a clear sow—scar at her neck—running around “speaking” that draws a ton of attention.
The police captain continues his call on his walkie-talkie.
"No, I don't think anyone really heard them say they don't consent, actually. At least, there isn’t proof of it. We certainly have deniability, It's so loud here with the parade going on and all.
“Boss, look at that.”
The captain looks at the commotion caused by Blueberry and shakes his head.
“Wait, wait, hold off,” he says into his walkie-talkie. “One of their sows is communicating with some type of sign language. Yes, people are watching. Everyone is recording now. They’re recording everything.”
The police captain and deputy take a moment to look around and note that nearly every onlooker has a phone out, livestreaming the LFD’s protest to the world.
“Yes, okay. They appear to be headed to the town square. Right. Will do.”
The police captain puts his walkie-talkie down.
“What’s the word, boss?”
“The word is they want us to ESCORT these women to the town square while HQ figures out what we can do about it,” the captain laments. “We can’t just go and kill a bunch of non-consenting women on Dolcett Day, can we?”
“Might spark a riot, boss.”
“Triple pay, my ass,” he says. “Come on, let’s walk beside them and see what they do next.”
[if trail.includes('FreedomE')]
Phoenix and Blueberry are all set.
[else]
[[Follow Phoenix and Blueberry to meet the police head-on in their effort to convince them that they cannot legally stop your demonstration. ->Freedom A]]
[if trail.includes('RadioE')]
Zoe and Puma are all set.
[else]
[[Follow Puma and Zoe to the radio tower in their effort to shut down the emergency system that would render the LFD incapacitated. ->Radio Tower]]
[if trail.includes('Floats 2')]
Scarlett is all set.
[else]
[[Follow Scarlett as she rushes to the front of the parade in her effort to convince the Dolcett Day volunteers that there is a better life than becoming a holiday plate. ->Floats]]
[if trail.includes('FreedomE') & trail.includes ('RadioE') & trail.includes ('Floats 2')]
[[Advance to - Friday Noon, Town Square ->Duel One]]
[else]"It's just missing..."
Just as the witch walks over with the knife and raises it toward your body, you're able to raise a hand and place it on her wrist.
"Not... like this..." you stammer out before your hand falls back to your waist.
"Oh, resisting, are we?"
You feel yourself panting with short, sudden, eager breaths as your eyes wander back over to the cauldron, the flames rising around the cast-iron pot as the broth begins to bubble. You were able to press the thought of your flesh being added to the pot, for just a second, but only because it's not exactly how this fantasy plays out for you.
She stares into your eyes—no, into your thoughts—as you imagine yourself cooking in the pot, [[but not cut up into pieces.->Boiled Alive]]
"No, not resisting... You just have something else in mind, don't you? [[You want to simmer WHOLE,->Boiled Alive]] don't you..."
An image of yourself [[simmering comfortably in the hot soup ->Into the Pot]], helpless, with [[your head sinking into the broth ->Boiled Alive]], rushes into your mind.
"Very well. It's a small task. Now hold still. I promise not to nick you."
You watch as she raises the blade and slices around you at a speed that shouldn't be humanly possible. You look down, expecting to see blood, but your clothes simply fall off your body. You force your head to look back up as she smiles again, her face stretched, though her patience also appears to be wearing thin.
"What... are you?"
"I have gone by so many names... called so many things... been so many places... You may call me Abutit... but shouldn't you be worried about [[what's going to happen to YOU?"->Boiled Alive]]
Abutit raises and turns her palm, and you see the flash of green light again, but the "Aura of Verde" stays over you this time. You notice your perception change as you're floated off the ground, and you realize you're also moving backward, behind you...
...toward the pot, [[which has reached a boil. ->Boiled Alive]]
"It's good that you've trained your body to be so strong. Thicker bones make better soup."
She lets out a cackling laugh that echoes through the brick and wood of her little hut, as you're dangled just over the pot.
You've got to do something. [[You won't last a minute in there.->Boiled Alive]]You decide to let her ride her fingers on your G-spot. You feel her thumb move away from your clit, and as you sigh out in relief, you feel your cunt needily clench against her fingers, a primal need being activated as you tighten. You're hoping she won't notice, or move on, but she starts to increase her pressure and settles in on your G-Spot.
"Oh, is this your spot right here? Yeah. I bet it is."
She starts to curl her finger inward, a beckoning gesture with firm, slow strokes over just an inch of sensitive flesh. You feel a moan escape your lips and you don't even realize you've made the sound until a few seconds after. One of your eyes starts to twitch as it rolls back in your head.
"I've got you now, dear. Just let go. Let me have it."
Your breathing starts to become more frantic as you realize you are no longer thinking, just responding. You moan out in ecstasy and she whispers in your ear.
"Let me have YOU. You're going to make such a lovely steak dinner."
A quick image flashes in your mind of you on a plate, precut into medallions. You see your steak nestled in a bed of freshly made pasta with the sauce with chunks of you meat poured on top. You try to press the image out of your mind, but you see the homemade sourdough garlic bread being set on the edge of the plate, soaking in some of your sauce, and you absolutely lose it.
You feel your leg begin to quiver as she continues to apply the pressure in the exact spot that drives you crazy, edging you closer and closer and closer. You try and keep your leg still, and you realize that just as you are able to, it is because your entire fucking body is shaking. A scream erupts out of your lungs and an orgasm floods through your body, pumping fiercely through your body like your estcasy itself has a pulse, a heartbeat of thumping waves of pleasure that soak through your flesh, making it stiffen and then relax, over and over again.
As the orgasm begins to subside and the intesity of the waves of orgasm begin to soften, you don't notice any pain at all. You conclude she's changed her mind as you feel yourself begin to doze off for a post orgasm nap, and as you look down at the tile floor, you notice something just before you pass out.
The clear running water from the sink has suddenly turned very, very red.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE SNUFFED.
Epilogue.
Ella gives her ragu one last stir before taking a final sip, just for verification.
“Mmmm. Perfect.”
She reaches over the sink, grabs the handle of a bell mounted on the wall, and rings it loudly.
“Husband! Dinner is ready!”
Ella giggles to herself as she pours two glasses of wine, setting them on the table. As she returns to the kitchen to fix the first plate, Theron comes downstairs in a black T-shirt and jeans, comfortable and casual, and takes his seat at the head of the table. He lets out one last sigh to clear his mind of the day’s earlier stress, activity, and conquest, settling in for a night of traditional gender roles, relaxation, and you for dinner.
Ella smiles as she places his plate in front of him: you, sliced into thick medallions, cooked medium-rare, and served over a bed of pappardelle pasta soaked in your ragu.
“You know, there’s something about this,” he notes as he slides off a bite-sized portion of your backstrap. “That this was just so recently part of such an active, determined woman. And now… so still.”
“It’s poetic, isn’t it?” Ella beams. “She really thought she could resist.”
He laughs as he slides your flesh into his mouth and slowly chews.
“You can taste it,” he says.
His wife tilts her head and begins to twirl her fork to prepare her first bite, making sure to get a serving of your ragu as she slides a taste into her mouth.
“You really can,” she affirms.
He takes a moment to put the entire experience together, sliding all of it—sauce, meat, and all—into his mouth, chewing, and swallowing loudly before speaking.
“You can taste that she really wanted this in the end.”
***********************
After enjoying a hearty two servings of your backstrap, Theron goes into the culling room and finishes processing you.
Late into the evening, long after the sun has set and Zoe was certainly cooked alive, Ella walks out with a pail and heads to the garden. She dumps what remains of your crushed bones, skin, and marrow into the soil to fertilize the vegetables that grew to cook alongside of you. She takes a moment to pack you into the dirt, leaving your lasting legacy on this compound as food - at all ends of the cycle.
********
[[Checkpoint: Thurs 4 PM, Barndomium ->Ragu]]"Please.” You say, trying to sound as soft as possible. “I think we should let these men have their way with me. I'm sure surrounded by all these big strong men, there'd be no risk of my escape. Besides, it would probably help tenderizing my flesh to have them use me over and over again. After they're done, you can still take me home.”
Theron rubs his hand on his chin. You can tell you’ve almost convinced him. You just need the icing on the cake.
“Besides, a few more orgasms will just tenderize my meat right?"
Theron turns to examine at the line of dirty, sweaty, entitled hunters waiting to fuck your cunt.
“You know what boys..."
The man in the front of the line unbuckles his pants.
"...she IS right.”
A collective cheer fills the room. You feel yourself bent over thee desk, your hips pulled in, and he lines the tip of his cock up to your pussy.
"Since it was my idea, I'll be going first."
Before you have any chance to react, he slides balls deep inside you. Another man lines up in front of your face and you didn't exactly realize that they were going to fuck you all at once. You wince as his cock presses past your lips and directly into your throat, his taste damp with sweat and musk.
You try and struggle to break the zip-tie, now that your body is expected to move. But, it holds tied, and your struggling frustrates the men to lead you to a couch. The one fucking your pussy climbs underneath, sliding you on top, and you’re pulled forward by the one fucking your mouth.
You start to feel the bind give just a little bit as you feel your cheeks being spread wider, a new set of hands on you. Your eyes bulge as a dry cock begins to press in your asshole, and you scream out a bit, with the hunter fucking your mouth slapping you on the cheek to keep quiet.
You lose the strength to escape as you’re overwhelmed with penetration, and try and remain still and hope they will cum soon. You lock eyes with the relief woman, who appears to be taking pity on you at this point, as your ravaged in all of your whole simultaneously.
Just as you feel your pussy being soaked by the first man, hee climbs from underneathyou and another man takes his position. One by one, they splash their seed on or in you, filling you with hot, sticky, misogynist cum and leaving you a splattered and broken fuck-toy.
Worsee yet, you feel your body start to enjoy it – th the penetration, the pain, and being held so tight driving you wild. You feel yourself reaching orgasm just as another men shoots a load in your ass, and you scream out in orgasm as another man floods your throat with his batter. You fill your entire body relax as the next man who lines up for your ass tells you how good you're going to taste when Theron's wife prepares you for the night's supper. You feel another orgasm building just as Theron takes a turn in your mouth, sliding his dick, still wet with your juices, down your throat.
"You know, you've had a lot of orgasms. You're looking awful relaxed..."
You look up mindlessly as you realize you're in total agreement. Your body and your flesh have never felt so supple, tender, and....
As he pumps your mouth with his dick, he squeezes the bottom of your throat, making the sleeve his cock is enjoying a little tighter. Your ears ring as the asphyxiation again brings out a life-shattering orgasm just as the final men begin to empty in your other holes. As Theron continues to pump, you realize that he's not asphyxiating you for your pleasure, but that he's realized something.
Your flesh is never going to be as relaxed as it is now. This is why they bring you home alive, to orgasm your flesh into relaxation, and then, to slaughter you just before your muscles reactivate.
He continues to choke you as you begin to black out, and you realize that he's going to kill you here and now. You try one last time to pull at your binds, but you’re spent, and so is he – you feel your body give up just as he shoots his seed directly into your stomach, sealing your fate to be in his.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Cum is still dripping out of all of your holes as Theron carries you into the barndomium – the farmhouse concept that serves as the primary residence for himself and his wife.
"You were THAT close to bringing her home fresh, huh? Just couldn't help yourself?"
Theron’s wife, Ella, teases as she squeezes your body up and down.
"Oh well, she's clearly been tenderized. Let's get her hung up and I can have her fixed up in a jiffy.”
"Sounds good to me. I've got a feeling she's going to cook up into the perfect sauce that we're going to enjoy."
They passionately kiss even as you’re slung lifelessly over Theron’s shoulder, just another doe that he’s brought home to be part of dozens of recipes Ella has ready for the occasion of a successful hunt.
*************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs AM, The Hunt Begins ->Begin Hunt]]Charlene throws an apple in front of her face and shoves it into Zoe's mouth. She then holds her hand out as Jenna places another one in her palm, meant to silence you. Charlene grins as wide as you've ever seen as she reaches down to—
"Wait. I'd like to hold hands with Zoe. Please. She doesn't know what it's like in there. I want to be there for her when we roast together."
Charlene throws the apple in the air as she considers your plea.
"You've always been so SET on saving everyone. Very well, it'll be a sweet final frame to such a long journey."
You are slid on to the waiting oven rack, with Zoe being placed next to you. Charlene presses a button, unlocking your right wrist, and Zoe’s left, and you reach out to grab Zoe’s clenched fist.
"How tender. But not as much as YOU TWO will be in just a few hours. Enjoy."
The oven rack is slid inside, and the oven door is slammed shut.
You allow yourself to stare up at the heating instrument, the orange glow lulling you off to sleep. Your entire body begins to sweat, and a flavor of herbs, citrus, and pepper fills your nose—along with another scent, a sensory experience you've fantasized about for years.
You smell yourself cooking. Feel your muscles roasting away. You can taste your juices as the sweat leaks into your mouth. You see your skin crisping. And it's all accentuated by the hum of the this perfect appliance.
You close your eyes.
*Game over. I am eaten.*
Just as you're about to pass out, you feel Zoe's hand open and her palm meet yours. You squeeze her hand to let her know you are still there for her, but you feel something else. Something metal.
You grip what she has passed to you and hold your weakening arm over your head. You allow your eyes to open once more.
You blink so many times to get your own juices out, and to make sure you understand what you're seeing.
You look over at Zoe. She looks on helplessly and nods quietly as you watch her body begin to succumb to the heat.
You look again.
It's a pendant.
Asher's pendant.
You clutch it tight to your chest, to your heart, as a flood of emotions rush through your body. You remember what it has meant to you to have him in your life for just these few days. How he’s made you feel so special in a way you haven’t felt in years.
You feel suddenly emboldened.
These are feelings that are worth living for.
Your eyes shoot open as you lean your free arm over the side of your pan, feeling for the controls. Just as you feel like your shoulder is going to extend out of the socket, loose and quite cooked from the heat, you find a button.
As you press down, you feel the clasp at your neck release. You lean over and see the remaining buttons and quickly press them. The clasps on the pan made just for you, to seal you to this destiny, are now unbound, and you are free.
But you are still cooking alive.
You realize there's only one chance. Zoe is between you and the door, and you’ll have to go over her. You try to get yourself to your feet, bend your knees to engage what's left of your quads and glutes, and take just one deep breath, the heat of the oven sering your lungs from the inside.
You torpedo yourself into the oven door, the heat of the metal searing your skin as you crash through it, and you roll onto the formerly clean marble floor. Your apple bursts out of your mouth, and you spit the remaining chunks as you try and get your feet underneath you.
Just then, you hear a voice.
"Scarlett, darling. You're going to spoil your meat, acting so reckless like that."
"You know…” you say as you slowly stand. “Everyone here has their opinion on what makes a woman test best. But you all are missing the most important ingredient in any dish."
"And what is that?" Charlene says as she marches over, drawing her kitchen knife off the island.
Just as Charlene goes to stab you, you step to her side, and strike her with your palm in her jaw. You rip the blade out of her hands and throw her to the floor just as Jenna hops on your back, wrestling you for the blade. But, you're able to lean back, and then launch Jenna forward, and she crashes on the floor just underneath you, her heel knocking the knife out of your hands.
You watch as the knife spins in the air, directly over Jenna's heart.
You don’t hesitate to grab it just before it pierces through her chest. She stares up at you in shock as you grab the twine of the kitchen island and advance on Charlene, who has just stumbled to her feet.
"The most important to ingredient is a resource that is not natural to a place like this." You declare.
Charlene turns to run but you throw her knife just past her head, it sticking in the kitchen wall. She greedily tries to pull it out with both hands, giving you time to grip her by the neck, pull her down, and choke her to sleep.
"No... I was so close... How were you able to resist? I got my fingers INSIDE you, darling."
"That’s because I never consented to you Charlene. Not now, not ever. There’s a more powerful force than your fingers, something more desirable than any oven can offer. The only force more powerful than lust…”
You pause as you realize the gravity of what you're about to say.
"...is love."
***************
Charlene passes out, and you roll her onto her stomach and use the kitchen twine to bind her wrists. You also grab an apple off the counter and shove it into her mouth—her words are as much a weapon as her hands, and you need no further temptation on this day.
You stand for a second, breathing a sigh of relief, a delicious aroma filling your nostrils.
Zoe.
You rush over, grab two oven mitts, and slide Zoe back onto the rolling tray, rushing her over near a fan.
You slap her on the cheek as she sleeps peacefully, but she does not stir. You pour a cup of cold water and splash it on her face.
Her soft, supple body begins to tense once more, and you exhale with relief. You remove her apple.
"Why is it raining in the tanning bed...?" Zoe mumbles to herself.
You carry her to a nearby bathtub and run some cold water, hoping to snap her back into reality.
As you come back, Jenna is sitting on the ground, collecting herself, and you lean down and offer her a hand. She looks up, perplexed.
"Why would you offer to help me, Scarlett? I was trying to kill you."
"If I've learned anything on this journey, it's that we are ALL one step away from destruction, Jenna. We just need one good person to catch us before we fall..."
Tears well up in Jenna's eyes.
“…I’m sorry I failed at being your person. But, I’m willing to do better.”
Jenna takes your hand, and you share a hug, sobbing together.
“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry for all of this.” Jenna says. “I can’t believe you saved all of us, even me. All by yourself.”
“Not by myself. Zoe helped too. If anything…”
You shake your head.
"I came here to save Zoe, but she's the one who saved me. She reminded me that—"
**DING DONG.**
You feel your body raise its guard once more.
"It's okay. It's a friend of yours, actually."
"A friend?"
Jenna waves for you to follow her to the door. She opens it, and you see Phoenix standing on the other side.
"Hey, Scarlett. So, what's this big meeting all about?"
"Big meeting?" you ask. "You sound like you were expecting me to be here."
"Yeah. Your version of Blueberry, someone called Jenna, said that you wanted to meet about how your company could work together with the LFD to build a partnership in Dolcett. So, I'm here."
You look over at Jenna.
"It's like Charlene said. She's adaptable.” Jenna says with a shrug. “Let's just say she had bigger plans than just you for dinner tonight. Sorry to break it to you."
"Wait, WHAT is going on here?" Phoenix asks, crossing her arms.
“It’s hard to explain, Phoenix.” You say. “But…”
You look over at Charlene, who squirms on the ground, bound by twine, screaming through her apple, what are likely various obscenities and curses in your direction.
“…I think you were lured here so that Charlene could bring you to such an intense climax that she’d be able to control you, and whatever influnce the LFD may have, to expand her power over Dolcett.”
“…hot...” Phoenix whispers as she hits her vape. "...I swear everyone in Dolcett has got their own ideas on the recipe of how this place should be run, but they can never agree on how it's supposed to taste."
"That's because taste is subjective," you say. "We place so much effort in convincing people to see through our lens, but we can never wear the same glasses. The world would be a better place if we could just understand that there are some experiences we can't share together, that our perception in some matters isn't unilateral. It's really only through the sharing of our authentic, vunerable selves that true progress can be achieved."
"Damn, Scarlett." Phoenix responds. "I wish people could see it your way."
"That's your job, Phoenix. You're going to-"
"Um, EXCUSE ME. Why is this water SO cold? I thought it was still summer?"
You laugh as Zoe emerges from the bathroom, half-soaked in marinade and covered by only a towel.
"Is that Zoe? What is this, a family reunion?" Phoenix quips. "Heck, this is a NICE place. I could get used to this. Being out in the open sure has its perks."
You nod.
"Maybe it's the beginning of us being seen as people with desires, and not feeling like monsters who have to repress our feelings," Jenna says.
"I'd sure like to not have to live underground anymore, just for being who I am," Phoenix agrees.
"Yeah, I'm really new to, um, this, but it's all kind of hot," Zoe affirms. "That's not so bad, right? What do you think, Scarlett?"
"I think..."
You look over the room one more time, soaking in the power of the moment. You then look down, pick up Asher's pendant, and hang it back around your neck.
"...the best is yet to come."
THE GAME IS OVER. YOU WIN!
[[Advance to - True Ending ->Ending Grade A]]Just as she goes to lay you on your back, you gently push her off and say no emphatically before pointing back at the dirt, she tries to wipe the remaining letters off, but it is too late, as a guard has clearly seen the signature abbreviation of the ladies for dulcet. He approaches and then spits some tobacco on the floor before reaching for his rifle.
"Now, you terrorists no damn well that's not allowed here. Your Mistress allows you the pleasure of existence, and since you can't take that very seriously, I've got no problem taking that from you."
He aims his rifle and you jump in the way, and you're able to get some grip on him before he bashes you with the butt of the gun and knocks you to the floor.
You'll have your turn.
You jump up and are able to knock him to the ground hip, tossing him and grabbing him by the neck. Just as you're about to grab the rifle and subdue him unconscious, a bullet rips right between your eyes and blasts out the back of your skull, your body crashing down in a heap. The girl who had attempted to distract the guards by playing with you looks up at the sniper Tower 300 yd away, the rifle smoking as the guard stands up admiring the cleanness of his shot.
A few minutes later, you are dragged off by your ankles to the slaughterhouse where you are portioned out and packaged for the daily delivery to the grocery store.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
The Mistress works to mashed potatoes over her stove as she peeks in the oven to make sure that everything is going smoothly. She size, and mother's to herself as she goes to check to see if the vegetables she's Browning are evening as well.
When all is right, she opens the oven tray and sees a large slice of your left buttocks roasting as a ham, completely as a pineapple, in a tray. She owes the tray out to scoop out some gravy to thicken up with starch and add to the potatoes once they're served.
I always prefer to prepare a sound a way that fit her best. But, when you don't get the chance, you stick to the classics. And you are going to make a lovely ham dinner.
She continues working to repair a traditional native sides, a stove, top dressing, applesauce, and a nice carrot-based souffle. You refuse to stuff your face and fat in yourself up to make a better meal for her in the future. She cannot say the same for herself once you're finished being prepared- as she takes her time to consume every last piece of the dish she's created until there is nothing left.
The rest of you is not at her home. You were hung up, butchered, packaged, and sent back to the City square on the ethning delivery to the grocery store to be sold for the evening dinner rush. Your name, face, or identity, isn't labeled on the packages, simply Bouvier farms and the cut of your meat, as well as the day you are Best buy is the only remaining legacy as you're stocked on the shelves.
*******************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs Afternoon, Feeding Troughs ->Fattening]]You push your way past the few sows on your left, who offer very little resistance, and line yourself up in front of the vegetable scraps. You look down at the picked-over peels and cores that lie in front of you, then look up again as the farmhand stares and raises his nightstick. You look down at the trough again and try to pinch your nose shut—you'll never save Zoe if you get yourself killed, or worse, converted, before you can save her at the banquet.
You lower your head and begin to eat, trying to pick through the scraps for whatever looks freshest and most appealing to you. A few carrots here and there, some bites of apple, potato peels, and some turnip. You try to eat each one individually so you can at least normalize the taste, not trying to internalize the very strange reality that is unfolding—that you are just some mindless animal eating from a trough.
"What a good sow. And look at what you've taught me about you already." A familar voice says.
You look up as a bit of vegetable juice drips down your chin and see Mistress Everett standing over you, taking a bite of buttered toast...
...butter made from your milk.
Yes, I see that you enjoy a variety of vegetables. You're not like these other sows, mindlessly chewing their way through whatever they can fit in their mouths. No, you appreciate the flavor of each part of this vegetable medley, don't you?
You just lower your head and go back to eating. You've got to do your best to blend in until you can get a few eyes off of you. It's the only way you'll have any chance to escape.
"That's IT. I'm going to call you MEDLEY from now on. Because you appreciate both a variety of vegetables, as well as the song and dance of pretending that there's any other tune you're going to dance to besides becoming meat."
She takes some notes on her clipboard.
"Yes, you're going to taste best with some of your favorite root vegetables soaking in your flavor. Something thick and hearty is how to serve you best. Decisions, decisions..."
She giggles as she walks away, and you go back to eating as little as possible to stretch out the time until you're hopefully led to your next station. Eventually, a tug at your collar from your leash is welcomed as your stomach twists and knots, based on how much potentially spoiled produce you've consumed. You aren't sure if you have food poisoning—but you do know that you've survived and are still yourself, at least for now.
You're led again on your hands and knees over to a very barren and open area of the farm. You realize this is the same area you ran past when you were unsuccessful in your attempts to guess correctly and escape the fate of being livestock. Sadly, you realize, it's just as Phoenix warned.
You're just one of many mindless sows grazing in the field.
No, you're not mindless yet. You look up at the sun, seeing that it's just at most an hour past noon. Zoe should still be alive, but time is ticking for you to find a way out of here.
But how?
As you're left outside to graze, you feel your eyes cross a little bit and your mind wander away. In a strange way, the countryside is very calming, the endless field, the warm bask of the sun, the simplicity and comfort of just kneeling down on all fours and waiting for your next meal is...oddly pleasant. You could see how you could allow yourself to get lost in this place, accepting a simple life of orgasming, milking, breeding, and feeding before you were eventually slaughtered and consumed.
But, you think to yourself, you made a promise to Zoe. And Phoenix, too, to come back and make a difference. To give women across this country, even women like this, a meaningful existence. And yet, it's hard to find the strength...
...but them, you remember Blueberry lived here, too, and you see how happy she is now, to be free. You feel you determination surge, and you start to scan the fence line for a way out. Just as you do, one of the grazing sows comes alongside of you and begins to rub her body against yours. You gently push her away as you continue to study the integrity of the wooden posts, and the electricity flowing across the fence line. The sow rubs on you again, and you brush her off, and after a third time, you look over frustrated and see an eager, panting expression, with her tongue slightly hanging out of her mouth.
You can smell her musk coming between her legs, just as she leans down to part your legs. You shake your head and say no, but you realize that she doesn't understand the gesture, just continuing with her desire to eat you out. As you hold her by the head as she practically claws through the dirt to get to your mound, you scan the yard and see that the other women grazing here are all pleasing each other, living an endless cycle of satisfying carnal desire, with no other purpose in sight.
As you push the sow away and head for a tree to lie under, you contemplate whether the Baron was right, at least about part of what he said. You realize that even his words linger over you and threaten to break you, but the shade helps cool your mind before it melts away.
Another sow approaches, and you wave your hand in a gesture you hope is understood as "no." She tilts her head at you curiously. As you roll your eyes, she raises one finger and then begins to drag it through the dirt.
"Hi," she writes in the dirt before quickly wiping it away.
You look up, startled, and begin to speak.
"Yes, hello. You don't belong here either, do you?"
She smiles lightly before taking a finger and dragging it through the dirt again.
"LFD."
Your expression lights up as you can barely contain your excitement. This must be the woman Phoenix said was captured during their last raid. This is exactly the break you've been looking for.
"Yes, I'm with Phoenix's group. Tell me, is there a way out of here?"
She goes to trace something else in the dirt, an outline of a building. But then she freezes and tries to wipe it away as she flashes a glance forward. You see a guard rapidly approaching, an inquisitive expression on his face. You go to wipe the drawing clean, but she plants a kiss on your lips and falls on top of you, her hand sliding down over your sore, but accepting mound.
[[Push her off. You've got to get out of here and she was just about to explain how. Find out what she knows before the guard takes her. ->Graze Fail]]
[[Allow her to play for play with you for a while. Hopefully, the guard just moves on. ->Exposed]]You ride in the LFD van quietly, the only sound being the pounding of your heart. Zoe's chances of survival has dwindled every second you were underground, and you're ready to spring into action, save her, and get home before Leikr can catch up to you.
As the van door opens, your blindfold is ripped off and you leap onto the street. You reach for your phone as the van drives away, remembering it was broken, and decide to retrace your steps the old fashioned way. As you eye your hotel, you turn and get right back on track to the meat market.
As you enter and rush through the market, your eyes frantically scan the lines of "volunteers," most of whom look like anything but. You remember Asher's optimism about how all women here crave this moment. You also remember Phoenix's words about how all women should have a chance to be something greater.
It's so much to wrap your head around, but one thing is for sure—you don't see Zoe.
You realize you are making a scene as you rush back and forth, and decide to just rush up to the nearest butcher and ask.
"I'm looking for someone," you say as you catch your breath.
"There aren't 'someones' in here, Miss," he says. "Just meat for the hook."
You suddenly remember a very visceral scene from five years ago when a woman volunteered to be slaughtered right in front of you. The way she ached. Squirmed. Literally came as the knife went into her. It's the first time you ever, ever...
"...Miss?"
"I, um, I..." you mumble as you nearly faint. "I'm looking for someone."
"You said that."
"Blonde Hair, 24, round eyes."
"Seen plenty of those."
"Insatiably positive attitude and nonstop giggling?"
"Oh, her. Yeah, I remember her."
"Is she?"
"Available for purchase, yes. Right this way."
The man walks you over to the adjacent grocery store. You feel yourself about to cry as you're brought into the meat department, expecting to see her innocent, unsuspecting face printed on packages of her various pussy, now portioned as steaks, roasts, and chops. You don't know what to think as you do see her face, just not as you suspect.
She's bound tightly to a Styrofoam tray, wrapped tightly in plastic, and trussed up like a roast. A fresh apple is forced into her mouth as she now serves as the centerpiece of the butcher's counter. Her pearl necklace is all that she is still wearing, still wrapped tightly around her neck.
"Now this one is absolutely prime eating if I've ever seen it. Those hips, just the right amount of marbling, that wholesome look—she's a gourmet meal and a trophy all in one. We decided to sell her as a full, live roaster. We're even pre-packaging her with her sides as a bit of a nice upsell."
You notice that whole potatoes, carrots, onions, and assorted vegetables are packaged neatly with her.
You watch as her eyes wander over to recognize you, and she screams what you assume is "HELP" through her apple.
You take a breath and close your eyes as you formulate a plan, then open them with the intention to act.
"Well, I'm sold." You try to sound confident. "I'd like to buy her. She's going to make a fine—"
You reach for your purse and realize you left it in your room when you rushed out the door this morning.
"...Can I buy her on credit?"
"No, ma'am. All transactions must take place in-store and ARE final, for all parties involved. No IOU, no holds, no nothing."
You ponder your options.
[[Rush back to your room, grab your purse, and run back to pay for her. If you sprint, you can probably be back in 20–30 minutes. ->Sprint Fail]]
[[Offer to take her place. You'll be purchased and roasted, but at least Zoe will live. ->Grocery Sale]]MINDBREAK
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[[OMG OMG OMG OMG ->Sliced Free]]-[[THIS IS SO HOT ->Sliced Free]]-[[AN OVEN ROAST ->Sliced Free]]-[[JUST LIKE CHARLENE ALWAYS WANTED ->Sliced Free]]-[[NO WHAT I ALWAYS WANTED ->Sliced Free]]-[[I BET ID TASTE SO GOOD ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND BE SO DELICIOUS ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND GOSH THEYD JUST PICK MY BONES CLEAN ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND ID BE LEFTOVERS ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND THEN BOILED AND BROKEN DOWN ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND OMG PLEASE JUST GIVE IN ->Sliced Free]]-[[PLEASE JUST LET IT HAPPEN ->Sliced Free]]-[[PLEASE BUY ME ->Sliced Free]]-[[PLEASE LET ME OUT ->Grocery Sold]]-[[PLEASE LET ME ROAST ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND COOK ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND FEEL THE HEAT SAP MY STRENGTH ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND EXISTANCE AWAY ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND GOSH A DINNER PARTY PLATTER ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND NO MORE STRESS ->Sliced Free]]-[[JUST DINNER FOR TWELVE ->Sliced Free]]-[[PLEASE DONT FIGHT IT ->Sliced Free]]-[[BECOME DELICIOUS ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND TENDER ->Sliced Free]]-[[SLOW FUCKING ROASTED ->Sliced Free]]-[[APPLE IN MY MOUTH ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND MMMMMM MMMMM GOOD ->Sliced Free]]-[[OMG OMG OMG OMG ->Sliced Free]]-[[THIS IS SO HOT ->Sliced Free]]-[[AN OVEN ROAST ->Sliced Free]]-[[JUST LIKE CHARLENE ALWAYS WANTED ->Sliced Free]]-[[NO WHAT I ALWAYS WANTED ->Sliced Free]]-[[I BET ID TASTE SO GOOD ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND BE SO DELICIOUS ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND GOSH THEYD JUST PICK MY BONES CLEAN ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND ID BE LEFTOVERS ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND THEN BOILED AND BROKEN DOWN ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND OMG PLEASE JUST GIVE IN ->Sliced Free]]-[[PLEASE JUST LET IT HAPPEN ->Sliced Free]]-[[PLEASE BUY ME ->Sliced Free]]-[[PLEASE LET ME OUT ->Grocery Sold]]-[[PLEASE LET ME ROAST ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND COOK ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND FEEL THE HEAT SAP MY STRENGTH ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND EXISTANCE AWAY ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND GOSH A DINNER PARTY PLATTER ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND NO MORE STRESS ->Sliced Free]]-[[JUST DINNER FOR TWELVE ->Sliced Free]]-[[PLEASE DONT FIGHT IT ->Sliced Free]]-[[BECOME DELICIOUS ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND TENDER ->Sliced Free]]-[[SLOW FUCKING ROASTED ->Sliced Free]]-[[APPLE IN MY MOUTH ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND MMMMMM MMMMM GOOD ->Sliced Free]]-[[OMG OMG OMG OMG ->Sliced Free]]-[[THIS IS SO HOT ->Sliced Free]]-[[AN OVEN ROAST ->Sliced Free]]-[[JUST LIKE CHARLENE ALWAYS WANTED ->Sliced Free]]-[[NO WHAT I ALWAYS WANTED ->Sliced Free]]-[[I BET ID TASTE SO GOOD ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND BE SO DELICIOUS ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND GOSH THEYD JUST PICK MY BONES CLEAN ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND ID BE LEFTOVERS ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND THEN BOILED AND BROKEN DOWN ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND OMG PLEASE JUST GIVE IN ->Sliced Free]]-[[PLEASE JUST LET IT HAPPEN ->Sliced Free]]-[[PLEASE BUY ME ->Sliced Free]]-[[PLEASE LET ME OUT ->Grocery Sold]]-[[PLEASE LET ME ROAST ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND COOK ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND FEEL THE HEAT SAP MY STRENGTH ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND EXISTANCE AWAY ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND GOSH A DINNER PARTY PLATTER ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND NO MORE STRESS ->Sliced Free]]-[[JUST DINNER FOR TWELVE ->Sliced Free]]-[[PLEASE DONT FIGHT IT ->Sliced Free]]-[[BECOME DELICIOUS ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND TENDER ->Sliced Free]]-[[SLOW FUCKING ROASTED ->Sliced Free]]-[[APPLE IN MY MOUTH ->Sliced Free]]-[[AND MMMMMM MMMMM GOOD ->Sliced Free]]
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}, 12_000);"…what if I offered you something just as good in exchange?" you say cautiously.
"What could you have that's as good as a rather prime full roaster?" he says back, clearly not convinced.
“Well…” you say, sticking out your leg and pulling up your pant leg. “What about…me in exchange?” You try your best to say it as flirtatiously as possible, but you can tell it doesn’t land. It’s been so long since you flirted with a man.
"No offense, miss, but you're not exactly a spring chicken. Just by eyeballing you, I'd give you a grade B, if I'm being generous. Your meat is awful tough."
Your feelings are hurt, but if being the CEO of SkyCorp over the last five years has taught you anything, it’s that it’s not about your feelings; it’s about your mission.
"Yes, but doesn't slow oven roasting require more muscle to break down? That's where you have my friend all wrong. She's supple, lean, fresh. A few hours in the oven would dry her right out, and then you'd have a bad review and one heck of an angry customer..."
He looks over at Zoe and rubs his chin, a subconscious nod forming in his head.
"...but me? A few hours SLOWLY roasting, breaking down my thick muscles into tender meat, cooking in my own juices, would have me FORK tender by carving time. Really, I'M your ideal whole roast. Just let her go. Take me instead."
You can tell he’s almost convinced, but his wheels are still spinning. He wants to have his cake and eat it too. You just need one more point to put him right over the edge.
"Besides, she's stupid..."
“MMPPH!” You hear Zoe scream through her apple in protest.
"...she will probably just walk right back in and volunteer tomorrow."
"...now THAT is a really good point," he says, turning to you in approval. "You know, you're pretty smart for a meat girl. Not that it will matter where you're going."
“I think we have ourselves a deal," you say as you put on your best business smile.
He extends his hand. If you shake it, you’ll be surrendering your rights and will be converted into a meat girl for sale. You sneak a glance over at Zoe — she has a hopeful, but concerned, look on her face.
You take a moment to think it all over one more time.
[[Surrender yourself to the clerk and get packaged as a full roaster. You’ll find some way out of this before you find yourself in an oven tonight. Right? -> Butcher Backstage]]
[[Change course. Tell him you are pretty smart and you’re going to just buy Zoe instead. ->Sprint Fail B]]
[if hasCard]
[[Item Choice: Reach into your pocket. Offer him the store card have. There may yet be a way to save both of you. ->Butcher w Item]]sectionStart: trail.length
--
You pull yourself back, somehow, just as you’re about to scream so loud with orgasm that you would've alerted the attention of every shopper in the store. Your body shakes in frustration as you repress your climax and you try and find your center.
You don't even notice at first that a blonde woman has been standing over you for several minutes. You instinctively squirm as you feel her pinch at your love handles, glutes, and thighs, nodding her head. As she does, you share a glance, and you see something similar in her eyes — a shared sense of desperation, of a need to escape this moment.
It's as if her mind is a thousand miles away, and your life and your meat are the last things that concern her. But it perplexes you as to why. She’s wearing a beautiful, heart-shaped necklace collar and a comfortable sweater, and her hair is pulled up into a messy bun—a portrait of suburban comfort. She should be safe and secure in her rights as a married woman, and in her prime, as she could be no older than twenty-eight.
*What could she be sad about?*
You feel yourself take a deep inhale as she gestures to two men to place YOU in her cart, likely to roast in an oven alive for tonight’s dinner. You can only stare up at the fluorescent lights as she politely finishes shopping, picking up several pre-made side salads, a veggie tray, and a case of wine.
Wine that you’ll be served with.
You feel especially uncomfortable as you’re placed on the belt and rolled down to be scanned, watching as she taps a premium metal credit card to complete your purchase. You’re not only been seen as meat, but you’ve been sold as such. There’s no going back for you — no legal status remaining. You’re just a grocery item on a receipt.
You're rolled out to the parking lot and watch as a young courtesy clerk hefts you into the back of her large SUV. As you roll down the street, a purchased, stickered roast and soon-to-be-served dinner, you let your eyes roll back in your head for a moment as you’re simply willing to accept the inevitable.
But another part of you pulls you back. You have to be sure that Zoe’s going to make it. There are other women who need you in charge of SkyCorp, to reach their biggest fantasy on their terms. While it would be nice to just let Jenna take over and allow yourself to roast…
…you make a commitment to yourself to find a way out of this.
[[Advance to: Tues PM ->Home Cooked 1]]**ONE (MORE) WEEK IN DOLCETT: SCARLETT SKY PLAYER'S GUIDE:**
All item locations and secrets:
**Sunday:**
- There are four different items in the prologue that Scarlett picks up depending on how long she chooses to last in the prologue. Whichever item is picked up is used in the “Tutorial Items” part of the story, with a slightly different way that Scarlett subdues Puma for each. They otherwise have no playable differences.
- A player can earn an item – “Description of Zoe” if they complete training and make no mistakes. This item is used to guide the player to the six-top table in the restaurant.
**Monday:**
- No secrets/items on Monday
**Tuesday:**
- If the player chooses “Play it cool” being led to the LFD underground, they obtain the Meryl’s shoppers card, which solves the “Surrender yourself as a full roaster” option when it is presented for the second time. If the player chooses to “keep struggling” they do not earn the shopper’s card and must choose blindly.
- If the player completes Dee’s story without any deaths, her necklace is thrown towards her by Case. The necklace can then be worn at the beginning of Subjugation night, allowing the 3 choices in that sequence to be skipped entirely.
**Wednesday:**
- No secrets/items on Wednesday. Dee’s Necklace can be used to skip 3 passages as above.
**Thursday:**
- Completing the “Pussy eating minigame” with Phoenix by orgasming earns the reader an item that provides a unique usage based on the path they have chosen. The reader does not earn an item if the player fails to orgasm.
- In the Mysterious Wood: The player is given a bracelet that “lights up” after the reader’s 12th attempt to go back into the forest without going to the cabin. By making the cabin the 13th choice, the cabin disappears and the entire Mysterious Wood sequence can be skipped.
- Alternatively, the reader can access this skip point by selecting the cabin as their 13th choice without the item. The clue was given in the explanation of the Mysterious Wood: “She just kept muttering the number "13" over and over as she walked in circles.”
- In Redwood Hunting Lodge: The player is given a razor blade that Scarlett can hide in her snatch. It gives an item choice to cut her hair free from the arrow, making the choice not random.
In Bouvier Farms:
- The player is given a map that reveals the correct two forks in the road. This changes the mathematical possibility of the player surviving the Farm from 6.25% to 25%.
- The correct path to skip the farm entirely is L-L-R-L.
- The farm can be skipped at any time with the correct combination of paths.
- Choosing the correct banquet hall mindbreak “Zoe was planned to be cooked alive” both grants more time and an item – a large appliance manual. This item explains to the player that the spit must be forcibly stopped. Not having this item leaves the reader with a blind choice.
**Friday:**
- The Three paths on the parade route can be completed in any order. There is no bonus for any specific order, it is setup for the reader’s enjoyment.
- Completing the Puma battle with no mistakes adds a small detail where Puma gives Scarlett an earring. This earring reminds Scarlett that time is at a premium in battle, and is used as an Item on Saturday to tell the reader to ask to be gutted first with Charlene to buy time to think.
**Saturday:**
- Choosing the most difficult Charlene mindbreak, with half the time, grants the reader an item of insight where the reader is given an item choice to not consent to Charlene as her last words. This is otherwise a blind choice.
Thank you for playing through all the paths in One (More) Week in Dolcett!
Strict-Smile2087
*****
[[Return to Credits. ->Credits]]The SUV that has pulled in front of you has obscured you and Zoe from sight. This is the break that you were looking for, you decide.
You're able to turn the corner—a blind corner where they won't be able to follow you easily—and feel your spirit rise as you make progress toward the tree line. It'll only take 50 paces, maybe less, before you can finally-
A bullet rips through your kneecap and drops you to the ground. Zoe squeals as she wobbles to her throat, and tries to pick you up until a bullet rips through her neck. She grabs her throat as blood rushes out, and when she slumps over beside you, she is already dead.
You have the misfortune of being marched, your mission failed, and your fate sealed. You were so close to getting out of there, and now, both of you will end up on the dinner menu tonight.
GAME OVER. YOU AND ZOE WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
You're forced to limp back inside on your shattered kneecap. You try not to, but can't help but sneak a peek at Zoe's lifeless eyes, confirming your failure as your body just wants to give up.
The SUV that had pulled out to try and save you is gone, having left some tire tracks on the lawn as it made a quick escape. You'll never know what the other option was as you're brought back into the kitchen.
You try to keep your head down as you try and think of a way out of whatever will happen next, but a hand pins you against the wall. Just as you look the head chef into the eye and begin to speak, you feel a cold, sharp, metal blade plunge into your abdomen, just underneath your left breast. It knocks the wind out of you and you tumble forward slightly from the shock, but the hand at your neck quickly slams you back against the wall. You feel the blade cutting through you, and then press against one of your bones.
You nearly vomit as his blade cracks your ribs inside of you, and he continues to cut around and break bones until he reaches a hand inside of you. You dangle helplessly, with only seconds of life left, as you watch him tear a portion of your rib cage from your torso and drop it in a metal bowl beside you.
"Short rib."
He then gets back to work, his blade quickly cracking the ribs off your opposite side. The pain is so violent that your body shuts down in self-preservation, but there will be little preserved of you.
The head chef of the Baron’s mansion is on a mission – and when he’s done, all that will be left of you is manageable cuts of meat.
***************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs PM, Inside the Banquet Hall ->CClean]]As you lay down in the tall grass, you are concealed, but also feel very exposed On one hand, if every hunter passes by, it should be hours before anyone even circles back. On the other, if you're seen here, you'll have nowhere to hide and will be the day's first kill.
You watch one of the more experienced hunters, at least in your estimation, walk by your position without seeing you. Another sprints past you, not even bothering to check this obvious area for prey.
Everything is going according to plan until you see the younger, fatter man—the one Becky was worried about—walking very slowly, his stride resembling Elmer Fudd's. He seems uncertain of himself, and he's being especially careful. Too careful, as he's lingering too long in this place for comfort.
You realize he's expecting to see Becky here, as she couldn't have gotten far, by her own admission, as she's so out of shape. He seems to freeze, as if he's seen you, but he doesn't do anything. Your heart beats through your chest as you try not to breathe at all.
Suddenly, he raises his rifle, points it directly in your direction, and fires a shot that bounces off the grass next to you. He just happened to miss, you realize, as you hop to your feet, cursing yourself for stopping in such an obvious spot. You promise yourself you won't make the same mistake twice as you hear him cock his rifle.
He doesn't give you the chance to make another mistake. You barely get two steps a bullet blasts through your back and out of your stomach, leaving you tumbling down to the grass.
You instinctively try and place a hand over your wound to hold your blood in, but he tore through at least two organs and it's 20 minutes into the hunt. You slump down on your back as you process that there's absolutely no way that you're ever going to be able to fend him off AND then survive for the rest of the day as your body starts to go limp with shock.
"Damn. I was hoping you were Becky." he says as he walks over. "I was really looking forward to eating that bitch."
His head tilts as he examines your wound, the blood pumping out of your stomach.
"Fuck me. I ruined a bunch of your meat, too. Oh well, there's still enough good parts of you to be ground up."
He cocks his gun again, aims, and smiles.
“Yeah, you're a little lean, but you'll still make good burger.”
A bullet blasts directly through your heart, and you spend your last few seconds staring up at the sky as he stands over you and licks his lips.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
"What's the matter, hunny?"
A woman dressed only in an apron walks over with a tray of hand-formed hamburger patties and sets them next to the smoking grill in a white picket-fence backyard in suburbia.
"It's nothing. I was just really looking forward to eating Becky. This was exactly how I was going to cook her, too."
He picks up one of your burger patties and slaps it onto his grill, the sizzle loud against the hot cast-iron plates.
"I spent weeks, months wearing her down. I even made sure the bank gave her that crummy loan, thanks to my dad. All of that..."
"All of that for me to get a nice promotion, right?" the woman says with a pressured smile.
"...all of that for her to get eaten by someone else. THIS one has far too much muscle. Becky was going to make a perfect hamburger."
The woman wraps her arms around his waist.
"So Becky ended up in someone else's stomach, big deal. YOU still bagged a doe. I got Becky's job. We're having hamburgers for dinner. Everyone wins."
He chortles.
"Well... almost everyone," he says as he presses his spatula onto your cooking flesh, your juices dripping out, inviting the flames underneath to rise up and sear a nice crust on you.
*************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs AM, The Hunt Begins ->Begin Hunt]]You can't fight your way through the over-whelming sexual desire boiling over in your pussy, and you feel your eyes roll back as your hips raise themselves up as he continues to fingerbang you into oblivion.
You don't even see him unzip his pants or pull out his cock, but feel his girth stretch your pussy as he slams inside you. You gasp as he hits the back of your cervix as he pushes balls deep insde you. Just as you go to raise a hand, he stacks your legs over your head and places two hands at your neck as he thrusts inside you, your body quivering and helpless to respond.
Your body does build a reaction to your impending death, but it is not one that will save you. You pant like an animal at the breaths you can access, but his fingers tighten and he chokes the air of your windpipe as he pounds your sopping cunt. The asphyxiation brings your pleasure to an entirely different level as you begin to orgasm, your last sight being the face of a proud, satisfied conqueror staring down at his prey.
"That's right. Cum on my fucking dick. Cum knowing exactly where you're going - into my collection and right into my stomach. You put up a good fight." Leikr says as blood from his nose drips on your face.
You feel yourself begin to black out as wave after wave of orgasm floods your body. You don't stop climaxing before your life climaxes, your literal last second of existence being of an aching, cumming, brain broken whole lieing helpless on her back being fucked by a man intent on putting her forever on display as a trophy in his home.
"Game over, slut."
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
“There's just one thing I can never understand. How do you get the expression to be so exquisite?”
Your severed and taxidermized head is on display in a large case, the latest addition to a group of nine other women. They all have the same orgasmic, submitted look of defeat resting on their faces. The only difference between them is the name placard just at the neck, reading “Scarlett Sky.”
Leikr gives a polite chuckle as he stands among the half-dozen wealthy men and women dressed in cocktail attire. Waiters walk by with hors d'oeuvres made from your meat, with the Dolcett Elite casually picking up pieces of your thigh, shoulder, or back and sliding them into their mouths. Another man stands with your left leg in his hand, chewing on your calf as he listens.
“You see, it's just about maximizing the moment when you take their life. It's an art form—something that I specialize in. I make sure there's an absolute moment where I can capture their final expression and lock it in place just as I take their life.”
“Oh,” one of the women says. “I hope you never do the same to me.”
She lets out a nervous laugh, but he doesn't respond. Slowly, her laughter dies down, and she fidgets in place, her feet shifting as she looks for an exit.
Then, slowly, he smiles.
“You don't have to worry. I only collect interesting women.”
The group laughs around her, and she only pauses for a second before bursting into fake laughter, doing anything she can to cut the tension of the moment.
Leikr turns and takes one more admiring look at his trophy before closing the glass case and locking it with a small key. His reflection overlaps yours through the glass, the legacy of who you were now told only through his lens. You are a conversation piece, just as he said you’d be, with the rest of you passed along to be consumed and discarded by people who will only know you as one of his many conquests.
******************
[[Checkpoint: Wednesday AM ->First Duel Clean]]You feel your eyes wander toward the back, trying to understand where she could have gone. Maybe she's a smoker and stepped out to take a break. You decide not to make too much of a scene by immediately walking away, and you sit at the table.
“That's yours.” The blonde taps her finger on the table and waits. You see each of the young faces staring at you. None of it seems friendly. There's a lust in their eyes, and it's not a sexual lust. They look hungry, impatient, and ready to eat.
As the waiter comes over to take their order, the blonde quickly speaks first.
“Yes, actually, you can help us. This is our friend for the special. She says she's looking for someone in the back. It's the girl that just went back there, right?”
The waiter shrugs and gives a casual nod.
“Why don't you take our friend back? I don't think we need anything else. Everyone sound good?”
The group nods eagerly, and you see one of them lick their lips.
“Come with me, madam. I'll show you where your friend is.”
You carefully walk to the back, expecting this to be a trap. But you do see a girl who matches the description, hanging by her ankles and being bled out. The visual is so intense that you completely forget where you're standing until something whacks you on the back of the head. You feel a net dropped on top of you, and you're quickly ensnared in a trap that's attached to a hook and hoisted out of the kitchen.
“Bring us a friend special to table eight. Hibachi-style live cook.”
You try to struggle against the net, but it's made with some type of rope that you can't tear or bite through. You are helpless as you are brought out to the table, now with one extra diner: another woman who seems very perplexed.
You're brought over the table as the flames are turned on, and you're literally cooked alive, squirming and screaming in agony. What makes it worse is that the young people around you seem completely indifferent to your plight. They go on conversing and having cocktails while the flame burns you alive, and they sharpen knives, ready to carve you from the bone.
You burn long enough that your body finally gives up and submits to being their dinner.
This is now the hot scene.The car ride to your likely final destination is less than pleasant. Your mind races as you try to think of a way out of this. You can’t run, you can’t move, and you can’t even talk.
You try to moan loudly through your apple to get her attention, but she shakes her head in the negative and turns the radio up. You realize as her SUV pulls into her driveway you’re just going to have to find some way to communicate with this woman, quick, or she might as well just stick a fork in you now.
As you hear her seatbelt unbuckle and her door close, you know your time is limited. As the hatch opens, she stands there waiting with a wheeled metal cart. You are slid onto the cart, and then she turns on the power to drive you around the side of her home—directly through double doors and into the kitchen.
As she wheels you into the center of the room, she briefly makes eye contact before walking over to an extra-large, YOU-sized oven and setting it to preheat. You estimate you only have a few minutes to find a way to convince this woman not to eat you somehow before you’re put inside and roasted alive.
You ponder your next move as she pours herself a large glass of white wine.
[[Make a scene. Thrash about. Scream as loud as you can. Do anything you can to get her to ungag you and listen to what you have to say. ->Icky Thump]]
[[Make soft eye contact and whimper. Try to grunt the word “please” and play to her sympathy, if she has any. ->Home Cooked 2]]“Mmmm…Pl…please…” You whimper, trying your best to force out a sympathetic response.
You watch as she walks over and slowly clips off your packaging. You go quiet for a minute and try to smile through your apple, hoping that removing your wrapping is a good sign. Your eyes bulge as she takes a single finger and places it on your navel. She heads north, tracing a bead of your sweat, mixed with the marinade, and brings it to her red lips.
She can barely hide a grin behind her white teeth.
“You actually taste pretty good… Where are you from again?”
You try to mumble “North Carolina” through your apple as she searches through the trash for the label she’d discarded.
“Oh, North Province. Huh.” Your skin seems a bit too fair to be farm-born and bred,” she says curiously. “And what’s going on with all this muscle?”
You do your best to shake your head back and forth to confirm her suspicions, trying to keep a soft, demure look in your eyes.
“What a mystery…and I sure can’t resist a good one. It’ll probably be the last mystery for both of us, actually,” she says to herself with a sigh as she removes your apple.
“So, where are you REALLY from?” she says, grabbing her glass of wine and taking a big gulp.
“…North Carolina,” you stammer out, trying to figure out your next move.
“NORTH CAROLINA?! LIKE, THE UNITED STATES?! Girl, you should’ve cost a LOT more. You’re a delicacy, for sure.” She says, looking you over and licking her lips. “Honestly, getting you for such a bargain might just buy me another week…”
You watch as she looks back over her shoulder and stares at into her den. You tilt your head and see a woman's head, stuffed and mounted on a plaque, staring vacantly for eternity into the void of nothingness.
“…Then again, probably not. Not with Friday coming and all,” she says, taking another large gulp of her wine before looking down at you impatiently.
[[Ask her about the head mounted in the other room. She’s clearly distracted by it and the story could buy you some time. ->Home Cooked 3]]
[[Stick to the task at hand and tell her who you really are. You’re currently in a roasting pan with a preheating oven that has your name on it if you don’t do something, quick. ->Dinner Party]]“It seems like something is really bothering you. Do you want to tell me what it is?” you say authentically.
You watch as a look of shock forms on her face, her head turning sideways in a strange flash of curiosity.
“You REALLY must not be from around here if you’re asking me about my feelings, especially in your predicament. You DO know I’m going to eat you, right?”
“Yes. I know. So, it couldn’t hurt to tell me what’s on your mind. I mean, who am I going to tell?” you say, adding a sincere smile. “I’m Scarlett.”
“Dee,” she says as she taps her fingernails against her wine glass. “It’s just… I’ve done everything right. I’ve always done as my husband said. I’ve stayed fit and trim, I’ve always had dinner on the table after work, including YOU, in a few hours, and yet…”
“And yet what?”
“…he bought a Le Preserve anyway,” she says, a full breath of sadness leaving her body as she pours herself a second full glass of wine. “The truth is, I’ll be roasted in the same pan as you later this week.”
“What’s a Le Preserve?”
She laughs loudly, an expressive look of disbelief all over her face.
“It must be nice to live in a world where you don’t even KNOW what a Le Preserve is. That’s crazy. I can’t even imagine what that would be like…”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be. It’s not your fault. Why would you bother to learn about the freedoms you take for granted? It’s just the way things are here…”
You decide to just wait and listen.
“A Le Preserve is a luxury brand of plaques for female taxidermy. They are the, um, Rolls-Royce of wood carving when it comes to ordering a specialty display for a mounted loved one.”
You watch as her eyes wander back to the head mounted in the den, her nails tapping nervously against her wine glass.
“You know, he never talks about her. I mean, sure, he talks about how great a roast she made, how delicious her meat was, how perfect she looked as a centerpiece on his table… but nothing about HER. Who she was. What she liked. What dreams she had… just all gone, into nothing.”
“And you’re worried the same will happen to you?”
“I don’t WORRY that it will. I KNOW it. I knew the minute that package came in the mail. I didn’t need to open it; I already knew what it was. It’s a plaque with my name on it, waiting, with my head soon to be attached and stored next to his first wife for display.”
“Don’t you have a say? You’re a married woman. You have to give consent to be eaten, right?”
“You think that’s what really matters? This is DOLCETT, girl. What kind of wife would I be if I turned down my husband’s request to be eaten? Especially on Dolcett Day, a national holiday where the greatest tribute a woman can give her husband is her own flesh?”
You watch her down her glass.
“…I don’t mind being eaten, honestly. I like that I’ll be the center of attention one last time, that I’ll nourish so many people, that I won’t die of illness or old age, that I’ll literally go out with a bang. It’s just…”
“…just?”
“…I don’t want to be forgotten.”
The BEEP of the oven preheating mechanism breaks the tension.
“Well, I appreciate the therapy session, but I need to get you in the oven now. You’re going to be serving twelve tonight. Thanks for listening, really.”
She wheels you over to the oven door and opens it, sliding you onto the tray. The heat blasts onto your skin and is instantly unbearable, and you realize you won’t last more than a few minutes in there.
“Any last requests?”
[[Tell her you know a place that she can start over, but she has to agree to let you out first. ->Soaked in Brine]]
[[Ask for a glass of wine and to be made extra delicious. You’re doomed anyway; you might as well end up as a great meal. ->Hot Oven]]
[[Ask her about what she’s passionate about and what her dreams are. ->Home Cooked 4]]“Um… I just have one request. It’s kind of strange.”
“YOU’RE kind of strange, Scarlett. Really, you’re a mystery, but I’ve always liked mysteries.”
“You said earlier that no one really knows what your dreams are. I’d like to know you. The real you.”
You see Dee lean back for a moment, a tear forming in her eyes as her hand drifts over her chest. She shakes her head and smiles.
“That’s really sweet. But what would that accomplish? You’re not going to be alive in a few minutes, and no one is going to remember either of us in a week. Sorry.”
Dee slides the oven rack back into the oven and slams the door closed.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
The heat immediately overwhelms your body, and you begin pouring sweat in response, your flavor mixing with the marinade, your drippings collecting in the pan below. You try to squirm, but your trussing holds tight, and you can smell yourself beginning to cook.
You try to look out the window to see what Dee is doing, but you can only see her legs, facing out toward the den. Any sounds you make through your apple are muffled and contained within the hot oven. The heating element roars above you, and you feel yourself beginning to lose consciousness.
You try to rock the tray side to side, trying to bring it closer to the oven door, but you end up just sliding back and forth. You feel your body give up and turn from muscle into roasting, cooking meat. Your mind goes next, seeing an image of yourself on a platter as a roast for a nice dinner party. She said you're going to serve twelve, and somehow, that doesn't sound so bad. You just wish you could reach your pussy and give it a nice rub before you pass out and are served as a delicious din-
The oven door opens and you can feel yourself pulled out, the rush of cool, room temperature air shocking you back to reality. You see Dee standing over you, impatiently, with a basting brush in hand.
“Alright, since you insisted…”
You watch as she soaks up some of your drippings and lathers it on your skin. You let out a moan as even though the liquid is hot, it's still liquid, and your skin eagerly soaks it in. You realize that as good as it feels, it's just going to end up making you taste better.
“I really like to read. Ok? Is that enough for you?”
You stare vacantly as you are quite near death. She pulls out your apple and places a hand on her hip, waiting for you to respond.
“More.” you mumble to Dee.
“More what?”
“There’s more to you than that,” you stammer out.
Dee takes another brushful of your juices and rubs it against your chest.
“…what does it matter?” she says, assertively, curiously.
“It matters to you, so it matters to me.”
Dee sighs as she goes to slide you back in the oven, but hesitates.
“…I always really wanted to be a writer. OK? There, I said it. Well, no, that isn't it. I AM a writer. I've...actually written a novel."
“What’s wrong with that?”
Dee playfully slaps you on the forehead with her basting brush.
“Women don’t GET to be writers in Dolcett, silly! Women are meat, women are slaves, women are objects! We serve men! We don’t get a chance to be creative! It’s too risky! Do you know what they’d do to me if they found out I wrote a novel?”
“What is your story about?" you ask, your brain starting to clear through the fog of heat and lust it was sapped by before.
“It's about a woman that didn't think she was anyone, but she ends up on a great journey…long story short, she changes the world. That’s…all I ever wanted. To make my own little footprint.”
“It’s not too late.”
“How, by saving you? You’re out of your half cooked mind.”
Dee slides you back in the oven and closes the door.
GAME OVER. (AGAIN) YOU WERE EATEN.
Your lungs exhale in exhaustion at the blast of heat, and you feel yourself become drowsy almost immediately. You try to stay awake, but you feel your head slump over to one side. You try to look over and see if Dee is standing nearby, but she’s gone.
You don’t have the energy to try and shimmy this time. You pull against your binds, and they are TIGHT. Worst of all, you smell REALLY delicious now, and it reminds you of the barbecued woman you ate five years ago. God, she was delicious. You never told anyone how much you craved having another taste after that, or how much you’ve craved this exact fate. At least you’ll get the latter, you think, and you close your eyes, ready to surrender and be eaten and savored.
In the darkness, you hear the oven door open again, and you feel like you’re floating as you’re slid out. As you open your eyes, you see Dee staring down at you impatiently, like she’s waiting for you to speak first.
“Please.” is all you can muster.
“You have to promise me something,” Dee says before grabbing a large kitchen knife and flashing the blade in front of your eyes.
You nod, not sure if what is happening is a good sign or a bad sign.
“Whatever you can do to change this world, you DO it, okay? You don’t hold back, and you don’t let anyone or anything stop you. For both of our sakes.”
“I promise,” you whisper, literal steam exiting your mouth as you speak.
“Alright. Fuck. Okay.” Dee says as she points the knife at you, but then starts cutting your binds. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Dee slides you back on the rolling cart and rolls you back to the center of the kitchen. She raises the riser to standing level and grips you by the shoulder to slowly help you to your feet. You nearly stumble right back down due to the thick marinade covering your body, your cooked muscles, and your general fatigue from the stress of the day.
“Just get the fuck out of here before my husband comes home. Wait, let me get you some clothes.”
You stand in the kitchen and try to collect yourself, your eyes wandering to the oven that nearly cooked you, and then to the mounted head of the woman whose dreams have long since been forgotten.
Dee comes back with a modest, conservative housedress and some shoes. She also has a worn, beaten-looking green journal in her hand.
“You can put this on after you’ve rinsed off. The shower’s upstairs. And, um, I’d like you to take this with you.”
She hands you the green journal.
“This is my book. It’s actually a crime for me to have written it, and if my husband finds it after I volunteer Friday, my head will probably end up in the garbage.”
You look down at the book and open it. The first page has just the title:
“A WOMAN’S QUEST FOR MEANING — AND NOT JUST MEAT-ING. BY DEE ELIZABETH WHITE.”
“Look, I know I’m going to end up a trophy, but I just don’t want to be forgotten, okay? Besides, this way, when you get back to North Carolina, you can maybe, I don’t know, show it to someone?”
“I’ll read it. And I’ll get it published. I promise.”
Dee giggles in response.
“A woman getting another woman’s book published. Okay, then. Sure.” She says, giving you a condescending pat on the head. “Now, go on and go get rinsed—”
Dee stops speaking just as she hears the front door open.
“Hun, I’m home. Is that roast meat girl I smell?”
“SHIT!” Dee whispers, sliding you on your heels toward the back door, with only the book in your hands.
“You’ve got to get out of here, right fucking now!”
"Come with me!" you implore. "I can take you somewhere where-"
You turn and catch a glimpse of her tall, bearded, blue-collar husband, dressed in flannel, as he stares down the betrayal in his kitchen. He sneers and reaches up above the door, pulling a shotgun off the mantle.
“GO!” Dee says as she shoves you out the back door.
You tumble down the back steps and struggle to find your feet, your muscles asleep at best or dead at worst. You stagger through Dee's backyard and fall into a large set of shrubs that act as a natural barrier to the next property. Your body collapses, and you linger there to gather yourself as you wait for Dee to follow. You hear some type of argument back and forth, followed by the sound of breaking glass.
“Dee…”
Just then, you see Dee run out the back door, and she freezes in place as she looks for where you’ve gone. You don’t see her husband emerge from the kitchen as a shotgun blast rips through Dee's abdomen, knocking her clear off her feet and leaving her face down, bleeding from her mouth, as she crawls trying to escape.
[[You can barely walk as it is, not to even think about running. Stay in the shrubs, as it’s the only way to stay alive. You may make a promise to make this world better, at any cost. ->Escape]]
[[Rush out and save her. Sure, it’s dangerous and you don’t have a weapon, but she spared your life and you owe her the same. ->Shotgun Stew]]"I want to live...I can't give in...women...to protect..."
You slap Charlene's wrist away with your fingers just as you step back.
"I'm sorry," you blurt out. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.” You lament, not sure why you're apologizing to someone who's trying to eat you. "I would, but I'm responsible for so much."
*I would? Am I already broken? Am I already hers?*
"Come over here, Scarlett, I want to show you something."
She walks you over to a countertop where she already has water boiling. You look over at the spread of potatoes, fresh vegetables, and herbs, and notice that they are of the highest grade.
"They're so fresh," you think, and say out loud.
"I spared no expense for our special day. Not a minute. Not a second, not a dollar. I want this to be everything both of us dreamed of."
Charlene picks up a potato and holds it next to your face.
"You're going to be served with the softest, most delicious potatoes that anyone has ever tasted. You're going to be garnished with the most expensive herbs in this country. The bread I'm going to stuff you with, I baked myself, as I wanted to make sure it paired with you just right."
You start to see yourself served as a slice of medium-rare prime rib on a plate, your juices soaking into the potatoes and vegetables, and begin to drool.
"You're going to be the greatest roast beef anyone has ever had, and to be honest, I'm keeping you ALL to myself. Well, Jenna's going to have some of you, and maybe one special guest."
You admit to yourself that you want to submit to Charlene and be roasted just…like…this. But one lingering thing continues to hold you back. It always has.
"I can't let you have me, Charlene. I have women to protect. I have to run SkyCorp."
Charlene laughs.
"Don't you understand, darling? All of that is over. You're free."
You feel a strange feeling rush over you. You somehow KNOW that she is right, even though you can't explain it.
"What do you mean, free?"
"You and your little friend Phoenix and the Ladies for Dolcett have changed this country forever," Charlene says as she loads the potatoes into the boiling pot, her dinner preparations now underway. "The government here is currently in negotiations to bring the demonstrations all over this country to an end and establish... rights... for all women for the first time ever. If anything, I wouldn't be surprised if a woman isn't in charge of Dolcett in the VERY near future."
"...wow. We did it. We've really made a difference," you speak into existence, cherishing the realization of your success.
"Yes, you are quite the world shaker, it turns out..." Charlene says as she takes the bowl of YOUR stuffing out of her fridge and sets it on the counter. "And because women are going to rule this country, women eating will likely come to an end. Do you know what this means?"
"That... I don't need to protect anyone anymore..."
"That's RIGHT, my smart little suckling pig," Charlene says, turning to you and pointing a kitchen knife at your stomach. "There's no more need for SkyCorp because there's no more importing of women. Frankly, there's no more need for my position at Dolcett Co., because I won't be importing any women. Both of us are free to do whatever, or whoever, we want."
Charlene walks over to the island and taps it with her hand, signaling that she wants you to climb up.
"You and I no longer have anything tying us to anything other than our own desires. There is no one left for you to protect. Zoe, your little project, is on her way home to get married. The LFD are above ground, free, and a position of power. And, your former friend Jenna is now my lover and pet.
"Yes, and I'm very happy being Char's submissive, Scarlett. Don't worry about me." Jenna says through glazed eyes.
“The only one left without a purpose is YOU. But deep down, you know what your purpose is. You’ve always known, ever since the moment we first met.”
She turns YOUR roasting pan again so that the engraving of your name faces you once more.
“It’s dinner. Roasted golden brown and served on a platter. And that is exactly what you’re going to be. Go ahead, say something to prove me wrong.”
[[Force a lie, tell her that there’s some reason to go on as a person and not as an oven-roasted turkey dinner. It’s the only way. ->Zoe Pet]]
[[Try to find some truth in this situation. But, she was right about everything she said? ->Charlene Home D]]hasChar:true
--
"I want to live...I can't give in...women...to protect..."
You feel Charlene's hand caress up your thigh, but you're able to pin it at the wrist just before she slips inside.
"I'm sorry," you blurt out. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.” You lament, not sure why you're apologizing to someone who's trying to eat you. "I would, but I'm responsible for so much."
*I would? Am I already broken? Am I already hers?*
"STILL not ready to consent, I see?" Charlene says in a huff. "Very well. Come over here, Scarlett, I want to show you something."
She walks you over to a countertop where she already has water boiling. You look over at the spread of potatoes, fresh vegetables, and herbs, and notice that they are of the highest grade.
"They're so fresh," you think, and say out loud.
"I spared no expense for our special day. Not a minute. Not a second, not a dollar. I want this to be everything both of us dreamed of."
Charlene picks up a potato and holds it next to your face.
"You're going to be served with the softest, most delicious potatoes that anyone has ever tasted. You're going to be garnished with the most expensive herbs in this country. The bread I'm going to stuff you with, I baked myself, as I wanted to make sure it paired with you just right."
You start to see yourself served as a slice of medium-rare prime rib on a plate, your juices soaking into the potatoes and vegetables, and begin to drool.
"You're going to be the greatest roast beef anyone has ever had, and to be honest, I'm keeping you ALL to myself. Well, Jenna's going to have some of you, and maybe one special guest."
You admit to yourself that you want to submit to Charlene and be roasted just…like…this. But one lingering thing continues to hold you back. It always has.
"I can't let you have me, Charlene. I have women to protect. I have to run SkyCorp."
Charlene laughs.
"Don't you understand, darling? All of that is over. You're free."
You feel a strange feeling rush over you. You somehow KNOW that she is right, even though you can't explain it.
"What do you mean, free?"
"You and your little friend Phoenix and the Ladies for Dolcett have changed this country forever," Charlene says as she loads the potatoes into the boiling pot, her dinner preparations now underway. "The government here is currently in negotiations to bring the demonstrations all over this country to an end and establish... rights... for all women for the first time ever. If anything, I wouldn't be surprised if a woman isn't in charge of Dolcett in the VERY near future."
"...wow. We did it. We've really made a difference," you speak into existence, cherishing the realization of your success.
"Yes, you are quite the world shaker, it turns out..." Charlene says as she takes the bowl of YOUR stuffing out of her fridge and sets it on the counter. "And because women are going to rule this country, women eating will likely come to an end. Do you know what this means?"
"That... I don't need to protect anyone anymore..."
"That's RIGHT, my smart little suckling pig," Charlene says, turning to you and pointing a kitchen knife at your stomach. "There's no more need for SkyCorp because there's no more importing of women. Frankly, there's no more need for my position at Dolcett Co., because I won't be importing any women. Both of us are free to do whatever, or whoever, we want."
Charlene walks over to the island and taps it with her hand, signaling that she wants you to climb up.
"You and I no longer have anything tying us to anything other than our own desires. There is no one left for you to protect. Zoe, your little project, is on her way home to get married. The LFD are above ground, free, and a position of power. And, your former friend Jenna is now my lover and pet.
"Yes, and I'm very happy being Char's submissive, Scarlett. Don't worry about me." Jenna says through glazed eyes.
“The only one left without a purpose is YOU. But deep down, you know what your purpose is. You’ve always known, ever since the moment we first met.”
She turns YOUR roasting pan again so that the engraving of your name faces you once more.
“It’s dinner. Roasted golden brown and served on a platter. And that is exactly what you’re going to be. Go ahead, say something to prove me wrong.”
[[Force a lie, tell her that there’s some reason to go on as a person and not as an oven-roasted turkey dinner. It’s the only way. ->PetItem]]
[[Try to find some truth in this situation. But, she was right about everything she said? ->Charlene Home D]]You bend your knees to load up your quads, then launch yourself forward. You've decided to sprint right past him, before he has a chance to respond. You feel yourself worry a bit that he doesn't even take a single step to react, almost like he's just waiting...
...like he's used to women running from him.
Just as you're about to past by, he steps behind you, grabs you by the hair, and throws you down backwards. Your head lands first, slamming into the wooden slats that make up the bridge. You don't have time to blink before he drives the boney part of his shin across your throat with all of his weight, crushing your throat.
You can't get in a single breath as you fumble around to all fours and try and crawl away, until you slump over, flopping on the ground like a fish that can't breathe.
"All that boasting and all you did was try and run away. A pity. I was expecting more from you."
You gasp as your eyes bulge as Leikr picks you up by the jaw and rubs his hands over your scalp.
"Smooth...should clean up nicely. You'll make a fine conversation piece, Scarlett Sky."
Your body goes limp and you feel him toss you over his shoulder, walking you off the bridge and back to where he's parked his car. You try and flail with weak strikes on his back, but he just laughs as you're thrown down next to his car.
The last thing you see is him holding you up next to the hood of his car, like he's measuring something, before the lack of oxygen from your crushed windpipe causes your brain to give up.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
"He always likes to make such a grand entrance."
A gathering of wealthy men and well-dressed, heart necklace collared married women sit at the entrance to the yacht club, waiting for Leikr to arrive. They sip cocktails and dine on portions of your ribs, thighs, and belly as they look over a pamphlet and watch a TV presentation highlighting your career. As they slide your flesh into their mouths, they nod quietly and agree with the propaganda the video insists on putting forward—that it was wrong for a woman to be able to control such a large monopoly in Dolcett, and that she met the fate she so clearly deserved.
A vintage luxury car pulls up to the dock, driving so close that the crowd has to scatter as it pulls up next to the boat. Leikr emerges with two women, who join him arm in arm as he walks in front of the car and the crowd. Cheers erupt. He gestures toward the presentation about your career highlights on the screen.
"I hope everyone's enjoying our little synopsis of the former Miss Scarlett Sky, the latest piece of my collection. I hope you've also enjoyed..."
He grabs a slice of your belly off of a diner's plate, and slips it into his mouth.
"...I hope you've also enjoyed some of the spoils of victory. We'll be having much more lavish dishes once we get inside and get on the water. But first, I wanted to share with you how I'm displaying her as my latest trophy."
He walks back over to the hood of the car and places a hand on the ornament that is the centerpiece of the hood. He begins to twist it until it spins, then gently pulls it off and slips it into his pocket. He then turns to make sure he has the crowd's full attention before pulling your freshly cleaned skull out of one of the women's satchels and screwing it onto the front of the hood of his car.
The crowd erupts in applause as you're permanently mounted as a hood ornament on one of his vehicles. Their interest in your existence—whoever you were and whatever you accomplished—completely disappears as the presentation ends and everyone boards his yacht.
Now, you're just meat for their table, left to be dined upon as they make small talk about acquisitions, stocks, and business deals, while the women make small talk about how nice it is to be at the top of the food chain.
******************
[[Checkpoint: Wednesday AM ->First Duel Clean]]The hostess waves you over, and you smile as you step forward.
"Good evening, welcome to Cochinilo Assado. Table for how many?"
"Um, a table for two. I'm meeting someone, actually. Can you tell me if anyone by the name of Zoe Sanders has arrived here?"
You try to say her name loudly, hoping someone responds, but the restaurant is loud with conversation and music, and no one turns their heads.
"Let me check the reservations..." the hostess says.
As she does, her phone rings, and she picks it up to answer. The conversation drags on several minutes as she tries to multitask, and you feel yourself getting impatient. Perhaps you should've just trusted your gut instinct and approached a table.
She sets her phone down.
"I'm sorry, we don't have anyone by that-"
A loud shriek pierces through your eardrums, a sound of terror that emanated from the back of the restaurant. You look around and the six-top of five diners is now four. You feel yourself wandering towards the back of the restaurant, your feet feel like they are floating as your heart beats through your chest.
As the kitchen door is pressed open, you can see the woman's body slowly being bled out over a sink eager to collect her esssence.
If that was her, you were just a minute too late.
GAME OVER. ZOE WAS EATEN.
Epilogue:
Something transfixes you as wander closer and closer to the door. It swings back and forth, obscuring your vision just enough to make you wonder about what is certain and what is not.
Your curiosity leads you past the archway that serves both as a separator between the dining area and the kitchen staff, and the barrier between the identities of what a woman is - outside and inside.
You place a hand on the lifeless body that hangs by the ankles over a sink, blood being drained out of the neck and wrists. A pearl necklace is stained with blood, laying broken in the sink. An engagement ring is on her left hand, with a diamond of over three carats.
There's no way for you to be sure until you notice a small, discreet tattoo on her right ankle.
A tattoo of the state of North Carolina.
Just as you slump your head down and accept that you have failed in your mission, you feel a pair of hands lift you upside down. You reach out your arms to defend yourself, but you feel something sharp press through your right ankle. As you yelp out, you feel something metal press through your leg ankle, and your eyes wander up to see the two hooks that have secured you to dangle next to Zoe, just one more woman to be bled out and served in this restaurant.
“Looks like we got a walk-in…” The head chef says, pulling your neck taut and raising a wet, bloody knife to your throat.
The pain from the hooks is excruciating, and makes it difficult to concentrate. He doesn't give you a second chance to think, as blood to the brain is a luxury here. Instead, you feel yours leave your brain quickly as it drains into the sink.
You’re just one more volunteer on the hook, a woman unable to control her desire and accepted to be processed to meet the demands of a busy shift.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE ALSO EATEN.
Epilogue:
A table is quickly cleared so Kyle can takes a seat, still dressed in his work uniform. Kyle takes off his nametag, places his napkin over his neck like a bib, and snaps his fingers until a waitress comes over.
Kyle quickly asks if anyone brought in a “Bring-a-friend” special from Canada.
The waitress goes to correct him, but bites her tongue. She knows better than to talk back to a male in Dolcett.
He's excited to learn that you had ended up on the menu after all. He eagerly orders your left glute to be served to him as a glazed ham dinner, and nods to a man next to him. Both of them enjoy the silent privilege, without ever fully understanding, that nothing that they've been given has ever been earned.
Regardless, you're still served quickly on a plate with the rest of you portioned out for the restaurants dinner service.
But, those with the privilege of being men in Dolcett are served first.
********
[[Checkpoint: Monday PM, Cochinillo Assado ->Enter Restaurant New]]"Umm... well... the thing is..."
"Spit it out, or I'm going to stuff this apple right in and be done with you."
"Well, I've had a THING for oven roasts for years. I'd really prefer it if you could do whatever you could to make me..."
She rolls her eyes, the disappointment showing all over her face.
"...extra delicious..."
You see her shake her head in disgust and stuff the apple back into your mouth.
"You know, for a second there, I thought you were actually different. But you're just like any other woman here—any other woman but me, really..."
"Mmmmph..."
"It's okay. It's my fault for even getting my hopes up, that's Dee for you, head always in the clouds, and soon to be on the wall. Sigh. You're just a horny little thing, aren't you?
"Mmmphhh...."
"I'll tell you what..."
She loosens one of the binds at your wrist and moves the placement of your hand over your cunt, before retighting it.
"...you really want to taste delicious? Make sure you have a nice orgasm before you FUCKING ROAST alive in that steaming hot oven, and I bet it'll add some flavor to that cunt of your that might just save my ass when my husband tastes it. Who knows, he might even forget to snuff me."
She walks over, grabs the bottle of wine, and pours a large glass. As you go to sip it, she pauses, smiles, and brings it to your lips.
"Drink up. Your organs will be in the trash in an hour anyway, but you might as well have a good buzz first."
She pulls out your apple and pours the wine down your throat. Just as you gasp for air, she shoves the apple back into your mouth.
"Goodbye, Scarlett. The next time I'll be seeing you, it'll be to clean you out. We have to make sure that stuffing is SOAKED in your flavor, don't we?"
She uses her foot to slide you into the oven and slams the door shut.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
A young blonde works to clear the table, the dozen guests now departed. Your picked-over torso is just a pile of bones on a silver platter, picked clean, as she scoops it up and dumps it in the trash. The rest of your scraps are bagged up and taken out to the curb.
The young blonde cuddles up to her new husband, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
"You did a great job on your first dinner party, Aureile. I'm very proud of you."
"Thank you, husband," Aureile says, trying the title on for the first time like a new toy, all the while admiring Dee's necklace, which she now wears. "I promise to spend the rest of my life serving you, Casimir."
"Oh, I'm sure you'll do just that," he says, staring into his first wife's eyes, remembering when she had made the same promise to him just a few years before.
Aureile follows Casimir's eyes to the wall and feels an uneasiness as the space next to the mounted head suddenly feels...bigger.
"Um..." Aureile chokes out. "How about a blowjob? You've had such a hard day. Allow me to be the one to please you, Master."
"I knew I picked the right woman for my next wife." He says, unzipping his pants and pulling out his already erect cock.
"You mean last wife, right?" Aureile says with a smile, slowing stroking his dick.
He laughs as he grips the back of her head and impales her on his cock, holding her down as she instinctively fights for air.
"Yeah, of course. Last wife. Third time's the charm."
He continues to thrust upward until he feels his cock break through Aureile's throat barrier, her hands pressing on his thighs as he doesn't let up. Her entire body rocks back and forth before she finally breaks free, an audible pop as the cock is dislodged from her throat. As she gasps for air, she looks at her owner with wet eyes as her makeup streams down her face.
"Oh my goodness, husband...you almost snuffed me. You would...never do that to me, right?"
Her husband grabs her by the chin, and turns her head side to side, admiring her facial structure for a moment, before standing up, so that his balls are directly over her face. Aureile obediently lets her tongue lap at them as she strokes his cock again, happy to give her throat time to recover.
"Yeah, you've got nothing to worry about. It's like I said..."
He pulls his hips back and lines his cock up with her lips, before thrusting balls deep back into her mouth.
"...I'm going to be keeping you forever."
*******
[[CHECKPOINT: Dee's House ->Home Cooked 1]]"Here it is, officer. My name is Claire Wood. I'm traveling from North Carolina. I'm here on a Conversion Visa."
You feel confident that you gave your fake name with a believable tone and smile politely as you try to look the part of an eager snuffette who has traveled to Dolcett with the goal of being eaten. You realize the eager smile sits rather naturally, but you don't allow your mind to wander back to fantasy land.
"Ah. A Conversion Visa from the United States. Damn. There's something about foreign meat that just tastes a little more...clean...on the palate. You're going to make a fine meal, if I do say so myself..."
He stands up behind the glass window, and you fight your instincts to take a more aggressive stance.
*Just look the part, Scarlett. Look docile and delicious.*
He finishes his scan of your body, like he's looking through your clothes, and nods.
"...Yeah, I'd love to be the one to eat you myself, even if you're a little bit older..."
You realize you instinctively squint out of frustration at his words, but then force a pursed smile onto your lips to balance it out.
"You're very kind."
He nods at the computer and smiles as he looks back at you.
"At any rate, I wish you a pleasant stay and a sizzalating demise. Welcome to Dolcett."
He stamps your passport, and you look at the red ink that stares back at you.
APPROVED FOR PROCESSING, EXPIRES IN ONE WEEK'S TIME.
You smile and quickly grab your passport, trying to look casual as you navigate your way through the airport. As you step outside and the sunlight hits your face, you smile. You've gotten through this task and make your way to the shuttle area. You show your documentation, nod, and accept the shuttle ride as it takes you to the city center, to the same hotel where Zoe is also staying.
The same hotel you stayed at just five years ago.
Despite how strange this familiarity is, you feel a rush of optimism. This should be easy. All you've got to do is knock on her door, tell her who you are, explain her current situation, and she'll likely jump at the chance to rush right back to the airport, just as Jenna gets you booked on the next flight out to the United States.
This entire experience is already almost over.
You visualize that over and over, just as the wheels of the van stop and the door slides open. There's no time to waste, especially in a place like this. As far as you know, the girl could already be in danger, or worse, in someone's stomach. You quickly hand over your passport and visa to the hotel check-in clerk, smile, and get ready to rush to the elevator to knock on her door.
"Wow. What are the odds?" the clerk says, and you look over to see his nametag says Kyle.
"Odds of what, Kyle?" You try to say it amiably, to avoid any trouble.
"You're the second person from, uh... North Canada... today."
"..it's North Carolina, actually," you correct.
He flashes an annoyed look that turns into a grin.
"You know it's impolite here to correct a man, Miss Wood," he says, leaning over the counter to stare at your ass. "Unless you're just begging me for to harvest you. Is that what gets you going? Because I'd LOVE to roast one of those thick hams of yours."
[[Tell him politely you're just in a rush to meet a friend for dinner. It worked on the plane. ->Enter Restaurant New]]
[[Tell him to mind his own fucking business and finish your check-in. ->Bell Hop Drop]]You decide to run for it, picking up your legs and moving as fast as you can from block to block. You feel your feet nearly slide across the pavement as you make the final turn and grab the door to the side entrance, quickly rush inside, and pin yourself against the wall, taking deep breaths and trying to flatten your dress down your knees so it appears like you've been standing there the whole time. You've noticed two men coming around the corner and you pick up a hotel procedure and pretend to read it.
The men stop, and stare curiously, as your chest heaves up and down, trying to meet the oxygen demand your lungs just required. You realize you can't hide your breath, so you might as well make the most of it.
"Gosh..." You say. "Can you imagine what it would be like to stay at a Dolcett Island All-Inclusive? It gets me all hot and bothered just thinking about it."
The men laugh.
"We can make tonight an all-inclusive buffet if you want, honey. Why don't you come with us??"
You feel your breath settle in your chest and smile back.
"Oh, no thank you. I'm not much of a resort girl."
You brush your hair flirtatiously and walk between them, pressing the brochure in one of their chests just as he raises a hand to block your way. You don't look back, but they aren't folliowing you, either. You made it - you're inside the hotel now, and you're able to follow the hallway back to the main lobby. As you press the elevator call button, you let out a sigh of relief. All you have to do now is find Zoe and-
"Excuse me, Miss Sky."
You look to your right and see the Maitre D gesturing you towards the private dining entrance reserved for special guests.
"I'm afraid you're being expected."
You look back at the elevator door and gather your composure.
"I'm afraid you're mistaken. I'm Miss Wood." You say, nervously, watching as the elevator is still several floors from the lobby.
"There is no mistake." He says flatly. "The Baron is expecting you. And I'm told to tell you the girl you're looking for is already in his possession."
You turn and mouth "Zoe" just as two men in suits, looking much like private security, step behind the Maitre D.
"The Baron will accept no delay. Please follow me."
[[Advance to: Wed PM ->Baron Meeting]]You quickly turn your back to Kyle and slip on Dee's necklace. As you turn back around, you put on your best smile and flick your hair as you walk right up to the door of the restaurant. Kyle drops the half-finished cigarette from his hands and opens the door for you, a look of surprise on his face.
"Oh, Miss Wood. I thought you were on a conversion Visa?! But you've gotten married instead?"
You shrug as you walk right past him and back into the hotel.
"What can I say? Plans sure can change overnight." you tease.
You feel amazing as you're back in the hotel. You step quickly through the main lobby, press the elevator call button, you let out a sigh of relief. All you have to do now is find Zoe and-
"Excuse me, Miss Sky."
You look to your right and see the Maitre D gesturing you towards the private dining entrance reserved for special guests.
"I'm afraid you're being expected."
You look back at the elevator door and gather your composure.
"I'm afraid you're mistaken. I'm Miss Wood." You say, nervously, watching as the elevator is still several floors from the lobby.
"There is no mistake." He says flatly. "The Baron is expecting you. And I'm told to tell you the girl you're looking for is already in his possession."
You turn and mouth "Zoe" just as two men in suits, looking much like private security, step behind the Maitre D.
"The Baron will accept no delay. Please follow me."
[[Advance to: Wed PM ->Baron Meeting]]You decide to keep moving, never pausing in the clearing for a second to give anyone a chance to catch up. You don't bother to look back or see if anyone else is hiding there, as you are completely focused on finding your own spot.
What happens next is truly startling to you. You hit a fence wall just a few minutes into sprinting across this hunting ground. You can't believe it. The length of the area you're being hunted in is less than a mile across.
The grounds that you ran through when Puma hunted you seemed endless.
"This is a death trap..." you say out loud, realizing that being spotted by at least one hunter, if not several, is inevitable. You're just going to have to make the best of it.
The majority of this hunting ground is also unpaved, raw land that has gone undisturbed, with only a few footprints from previous hunts throughout the week. There's really nothing unique or specific about it; everything blends together so much that even after what seems like an hour, you have no idea where you're standing.
You decide to just try and keep your wits about you, crouch down low, and keep moving, as there's really nowhere to hide here. You find that staying on your feet keeps you alert, and you try to stay off the main path, stepping on piles of recently fallen leaves, as they are less crunchy and noisy than the ones that have been down for a while. But then you wonder—why are their soft leaves in just this one spot?
Before you can finish the thought, you hear a snap, and you're suddenly thrust upside down into the air, dangling from your ankle. You're disoriented, as this occurred so quickly, and as you look down, you see that the dirt underneath was clearly just a well-disguised trap, with the nearby tree blending the rope that ensnared you like camouflage.
As you dangle just a few feet off the ground, you breathe through the panic and use your core strength to sit up and begin pulling at the bind holding your left ankle to the tree branch. The bind is extremely tight and is cutting off circulation to your leg, and as you pull at it, you feel like you're only making it tighter.
You inspect the knot and try to pick away at it with your fingernails, but it has been tied by an expert, and the rope is wet, making it difficult to grip.
Your abs fatigue, and you allow yourself to dangle for just a minute to catch your breath, looking back down at the hole that you stupidly stepped into. As you do, underneath the leaves that obscured the trap you are now caught in, you see a flash of green light. You curiously look closer and see the same light again. Then, the third time, you notice the light is blinking faster than before, which could only mean—
You lift your head just as you hear another crunching sound and see the silhouette of a man walking directly toward you. He draws his large hunting knife, nearly two feet in length, from a sheath on his back, intent on harvesting you for his dinner. You've got to figure out your strategy—quickly.
[[Climb back up and pull the rope off. Bite through it if you have to. It's stupid tight, but you can't give up. ->Doe Pole Death]]
[[Allow yourself to dangle, rest, and present as easy prey. When he lowers his guard, take his blade and cut yourself down. ->Hunt 3]]You let your body hang limply, your arms dangling beneath you, pretending not to watch as the man with the very large blade slowly approaches. You're going to have to be exact if this is going to work. If not, you're going to find out what it's like to be sliced open in just a matter of seconds.
You see one hand reach over to grip you by the hair as the blade begins to point at your neck. As he turns the blade, you notice the grip of his fingers loosen slightly, and you seize your opportunity. You snatch the blade right out of his hand, immediately pull yourself up, and slice the rope in one whack, your body crashing to the forest floor. As he lunges down at you, you simply point the knife in his direction.
"You're not allowed to attack me?!" he stutters out.
You slide back on your butt and make your way to your feet.
"I'm not attacking you. If I was, we'd both be dead."
He stands there, puzzled, considering your words. You decide to really make your point.
"I'll put it another way, friend. Either I am attacking you, in which case, I'm using this weapon to kill you. In that scenario, you die, and I die too, as I break the rules."
"Or?"
"Or I'm not attacking you, and you walk away. I'll leave your blade here, and you can come retrieve it in a few minutes. I'll be gone, and the hunt will continue for both of us."
You take a deep breath and ready yourself to do what you must.
"It's your call."
He puts his hands on his hips and smiles.
"Man. You might be the most cunning doe I've ever run into." He says, backpedaling into the forest. "You got yourself a deal. I doubt you'll fall for my trap again, which is too bad, as I'd LOVE to see you again."
"You will. It will be at the lodge, when I'm signing myself out." You snap back confidentally.
"Yeah. We'll see about that, you got a long way yet, doe." he says as he turns and walks away.
You wait until he's completely out of sight before throwing his blade into the dirt - carrying around a weapon will only bring unnecessary attention to you at this point anyway. Then, you turn back into the forest and refocus your effort on survival.
******
You're able to move lightly through the forest, putting more distance between yourself and where the man originally was. Based on his age and how slowly he approached and left, it's unlikely he's able to track you or keep up. Once again, you choose to take soft, discreet steps, carefully seeking out vantage points where you can hide and pass the time.
"We've got to be over halfway now." You say to yourself as you see the sun approaches noon.
A rush of excitement fills your heart as you realize you're getting a little closer to making it. You're also realize the rush is starting to feel just like you did five years ago—just as you have in every fantasy you've had since your last hunt. Your knees knock and rub together, your breathing gets short, and you lick your lips.
You're starting to get horny. The thrill of nearly being snuffed twice is driving you wild, especially with how he had you dead to rights, has a streak of wetness running down your thigh. Your hand reaches itself down to rub just a little bit, but your mind takes over and you pull the hand away.
"I can't get killed masturbating, I never forgive myself..."
You laugh for a moment.
"...not that I'd be alive long enough to regret it. I'd be-"
A whistling sound zips past your ear, and you duck instinctively—or perhaps through years of training—just in time to avoid an arrow headed straight for your neck. You exhale in relief, but as you turn to run, you realize your hair is caught. The arrow has pinned it to the tree. You hear the twang of another bowstring, and you've got a decision to make—right now.
[[Rip your hair out from your scalp and get moving. ->Hunt 5]]
[[Turn and pull the arrow out, then run as fast as you can out of here. ->Bow Down]]
[if hasHuntItem]
[[Item Choice: Use the razor blade Phoenix gave you to cut your hair loose. ->Hunt 5 Item]]You grab your hair and scream as you rip it from your scalp, then get moving just as you see another arrow slam into the tree bark beside you. You should only have to avoid one more arrow before you can escape. Hopefully.
You hear the crack of the bow echo through the forest, birds scattering as if they don't want to be present for what will come next. You hear something whizzing by you, and you feel something sting your leg, but you're able to keep going.
You run as hard and fast as you can, not worried about who else might hear you, and you only crash down into the leaves when you're out of breath and wheezing. As you go to pick yourself up, you can still feel the burning sensation on your leg, and you fear the worst. However, as you look down, you see it's just a friction burn—the arrow had only clipped you, not cut into you. You were that close to being eaten again, just like during your first hunt. But due to your quick turn, blind luck, or some careful choice, you're still here and still in one piece.
You feel a shiver go through your body as you wonder what would have happened to you if the arrow had found its mark.
I would have been eaten for sure." You say as your hand again wanders down your crotch.
"Scarlett Sky, enough. When you get home, you can masturbate the fuck out of this. But, not yet, and not now."
You look up at the sun and note that you should be close now to the end of the hunt. You haven't seen anyone in what feels like hours, although you can't shake the feeling that you're being watched. It's a good instinct to have, you feel, to never let your guard down and always assume you're being tracked, whether it's true or not.
You realize with a sudden sadness that there's a strong possibility that the reason you're no longer being pursued is that the other women in your hunt have already been bagged. Each Hunter can only claim one woman, and they were four hunters for four women. So, if you're right, there may only be one more hunter out there.
You eagerly listen for the next horn, waiting to go in, and select for your prize a free banquet meal at the baron's residence where you will go in and save Zoe. You lick your lips as you can almost taste it, but then realize that you're salivating because there's a faint smell of barbecue in the air. One of the girls did get bagged. You wonder which - and feel bad that you'd prefer one or another, as all of them never had a chance to-
You're startled by a LOUD tearing through the shrubs and the breaking of branches. You immediately see the athletic man—the one who wasn't armed—running full speed toward you. He's got a very athletic stride that takes you off guard for a second, and he's going to be on you any second. It's just a matter of how you meet him.
[[Meet him head on. He's got the jump on you and you're just going to have to fight. ->Survived and Denied]]
[[Turn and run. You're in great shape and there's still enough lead to stay ahead of him. ->Hunt 6]]You quickly reach down and slip the razor out of your pussy, and cut your hair loose in one swipe. You get moving just as another arrow slams into the tree bark beside you, startling you enough to drop the blade.
You should only have to avoid one more arrow before you can escape. Hopefully.
You hear the crack of the bow echo through the forest, birds scattering as if they don't want to be present for what will come next. You hear something whizzing by you, and you feel something sting your leg, but you're able to keep going.
You run as hard and fast as you can, not worried about who else might hear you, and you only crash down into the leaves when you're out of breath and wheezing. As you go to pick yourself up, you can still feel the burning sensation on your leg, and you fear the worst. However, as you look down, you see it's just a friction burn—the arrow had only clipped you, not cut into you. You were that close to being eaten again, just like during your first hunt. But due to your quick turn, blind luck, or some careful choice, you're still here and still in one piece.
You feel a shiver go through your body as you wonder what would have happened to you if the arrow had found its mark.
I would have been eaten for sure." You say as your hand again wanders down your crotch.
"Scarlett Sky, enough. When you get home, you can masturbate the fuck out of this. But, not yet, and not now."
You look up at the sun and note that you should be close now to the end of the hunt. You haven't seen anyone in what feels like hours, although you can't shake the feeling that you're being watched. It's a good instinct to have, you feel, to never let your guard down and always assume you're being tracked, whether it's true or not.
You realize with a sudden sadness that there's a strong possibility that the reason you're no longer being pursued is that the other women in your hunt have already been bagged. Each Hunter can only claim one woman, and they were four hunters for four women. So, if you're right, there may only be one more hunter out there.
You eagerly listen for the next horn, waiting to go in, and select for your prize a free banquet meal at the baron's residence where you will go in and save Zoe. You lick your lips as you can almost taste it, but then realize that you're salivating because there's a faint smell of barbecue in the air. One of the girls did get bagged. You wonder which - and feel bad that you'd prefer one or another, as all of them never had a chance to-
You're startled by a LOUD tearing through the shrubs and the breaking of branches. You immediately see the athletic man—the one who wasn't armed—running full speed toward you. He's got a very athletic stride that takes you off guard for a second, and he's going to be on you any second. It's just a matter of how you meet him.
[[Meet him head on. He's got the jump on you and you're just going to have to fight. ->Survived and Denied]]
[[Turn and run. You're in great shape and there's still enough lead to stay ahead of him. ->Hunt 6]]You step your left foot backward and begin to run. As you run, you remember: fighting back is not allowed under the rules here. You’re just going to have to outrun him.
There’s one problem—he has shoes, and you do not. Every time you try to run harder, your feet ache as you step on rocks, tree roots, and uneven ground.
The sound of his footsteps, his breathing, and his body heat grow closer and closer until you feel a fingertip grab at your arm. You’re able to shrug him off, throwing your left shoulder forward, but it causes you to stumble and lose your balance. You manage to stop yourself from falling, but the pause is enough for him to jump on top of you and slam you face-first into the dirt.
The wind is knocked out of you for only a second, but as you reach to place your hands into the dirt, you realize they’re already bound by something. As you turn your head, you see that your wrists have been zip-tied, and he’s already working on securing your ankle to a nearby tree, with one knee firmly planted against your back.
“Give it up, girlie. You’re dinner,” he growls.
You try to squirm as he stares into your eyes—his expression cold, certain, eager. You realize that a physical escape is impossible, so you try to collect yourself and plan your next move.
“You were definitely the one I was after. There’s something…different…about you. I knew you’d be a challenge.”
He slowly draws a dagger from a sleeve on his ankle. The reality of your situation begins to set in as you start to tremble. He lowers himself, pressing his weight down as he brings the cold steel against your throat.
“That’s a good girl. Stay still and do as you’re told, and I promise it won’t hurt. It’s not good for the quality of the meat to be so stressed, after all…”
You close your eyes, trying to push away the intensity of the moment. Fear, instinct, and adrenaline overwhelm your thoughts as you struggle to remain calm. You’re trapped, restrained, and at the mercy of someone who has taken the time to hunt you down.
You moan softly as you realize you're also soaking fucking wet.
You feel the firmness of his blade release from your neck, and you open one eyes to watch as he puts his knife away. You try to take the advantage to squirm away, but he simple grabs you by the hips, pins your head down into the dirt, and pulls your butt into his groin.
"Don't deny you want this. I can already smell it on you."
You hear a metal clasp release and a zipper loosen, and you fight with yourself between a desire to absolutely want what is going to happen next - to let go, enjoy it one last fuck before you're snuffed, and your brain screaming to plan your escape. Your desire to escape wins out - as you wiggle your shoulders forward and press your body upwards to get one foot back underneath you, but then he grabs you by the throat, squeezes, and drags you back in position.
You're face down, ass up, with a hand at your throat. You hear his pants hit the forest floor as he pulls you in again, his breath hot on your neck as he leans in and grips his free hand around your shoulder.
“This is my favorite part, if I’m to be honest. My second is the first time I feel the flavor of your perfectly cooked meat soak on my tongue.
You yearningly gaze behind you as you watch him wipe a handful of sweat off his forehead and uses the moisture to lubricate his rock hard cock. You bite your llip as he lines up his thick head with your aching pussy, ready to receive him and have release.
Just as you absolutely decide you want it to happen, he roughly slides balls deep inside you.
“Ugh….fuck. Knew it. Tight. So fucking tight.”
He begins to pound your pussy, hard, deep, loud thrusts that echo through the trees. There's something about how selfishly, needingly he fucks your cunt that drives you even crazier, and you taste blood from how hard you bite down on your lip before screaming out a moan of pleasure that has the remaining wildlife scurry away in the early afternoon light.
“That’s right. Go ahead and enjoy yourself. You wouldn’t be the first doe to cum all over my cock.”
You can feel your goals and dreams slipping away as you’re used like a human fleshlight. There's no denying you're lost in this moment. You pant loudly, groan, and even tighen your pussy around his cock, which is already streching you more than you have been in years. You feel him grunt and you moan with the satisfaction that you're pleasing him, your acceptance of the finality of this moment, and what happens next, setting in.
He leans in and bites your ear, hard, and you scream out as he tears a piece of it off, chews it, and swallows it loudly down his throat - all while still thrusting, his pace just how you like it - consistent, steady, unchanged.
You feel an orgasm building and you decide that you want it. You absolutely want it.
"That's right." He says, slapping you on the ass so hard that you can feel it in your teeth. "You're going to be MY dinner, tonight. And I’m going to be eating on you for weeks, especially since I’ll be bringing you home unspoiled."
You can feel his breath start to get shallow and his body tightens, with a hand wandering to your clit to applying firm, hard pressure with slow circles, JUST what drives you crazy. You suddenly realize you didn’t take your birth control with you on this trip, but it won’t matter soon.
“My wife is going to have a fucking field day with you. In fact, she’s already at home picking the tomatoes out of the garden that are going to make the red sauce you're soon to be a part of.”
You feel your breath stop entirely as your body tenses up for the total release that is now seconds away, the only sound between you being the wet, loud slapping of flesh as he pounds your cunt without regard for whether you live or die. Right on cue, his hand tightens around your throat, cutting off oxygen to your brain - the sensation carrying you to the very edge.
“That’s right. She’s at home right now prepping a vat of homemade ragu that she cans for the rest of the season. She's going to be adding your flesh to simmer in it FRESH, too. The only question left is what type of pasta you'll be served with."
You see an image in your mind's eye that absolutely sends you over the edge. It's this man, this man who has chased you, caught you, and pinned you to the ground - sittng at the head of his table, while his wife serves him a plate of an authentic, traditional, hand made spaghetti dinner, with YOUR meat soaked in the sauce. You feel your body begin to release just as his cock begins to contract, flooding your womb with his cum, breeding your eager pussy with his seed. You feel a lightheadedness as he chokes the life out of you, which only intensifies one of the hottest orgasms of your entire life. The lack of oxygen to your brain starts to darken your vision, and a small part of you just wishes it would just be over, in this purely lustful, brain breaking climatic moment.
But, instead, you both slump over in a heap, exhausted, panting as you lay in the afterglow of shared release. The sun flashes through the trees, and you allow yourself to enjoy the moment of not being responsible for anything – other than being featured on tonight's menu. Just as your brain starts to get busy again, you feel him begin to yank you to your feet.
“Wait, please..." You beg. "I’m not supposed to be here, my name is Sc-“
He pulls a hankerchief out of his pocket and shoves it down your throat, tieing the end behind your head to effectively gag you.
“I liked it better when you were moaning. Let’s keep it that way.”
He stares at you hungerily as he loudly clasps his belt buckle. He then tightens the bind at your wrists so firm that your hands start to feel numb. He last pulls out an orange tag, flashing it front of your eyes to make sure he has your full attention, and zipties it to your ankle, marking you claimed as his kill, trophy, and dinner.
“Now. Let me tell you what’s going to happen next. You’re going to walk with me and not give me any trouble. We are going to go back to the lodge and I am going to sign you out, and then I'll take you back to my barndominium where you'll be processed as fresh to the kill as possible, to maximize your flavor.”
You start to squirm as your feet are eager to escape, still untied, and he grabs you by the jaw, staring into your eyes.
I promise it will be as painless as possible, and none of you will go to waste. But, if you give me any trouble…”
He taps the knife sheathed at his ankle.
“I promise I will make your last moments very unpleasant.”
******************************************
As you walk through the forest, the post orgasm bliss wearing off, the severity of your situation starts to set in. Your hands are tied tightly behind your back. The hunter that has already claimed your pussy walks slowly behind you, watching carefully for any sign that you might try and get away. Your ankles are free, for now, sans a tag signfiying you've been bagged, which would give you an opportunity to escape - except he's only allowing you short, slow steps as you march back towards the lodge.
The same lodge with a waiting fire pit, Doe Pole, and processing room.
As you pass by the spot where you hung by your ankles, the rope is still laying on the forest floor, discarded. You were THAT close to being killed then and you got away, and now, you feel like the opposite is taking place - that close to gettting away, and soon to be slaughtered. Your hunter grabs the zip tie at your wrists and holds you in place as he picks up the rope, examines it, and then ties it around your neck.
"Just in case you had any thoughts about getting away," he says as he holds the rope with both hands.
Suddenly, you hear a a shriek in the distance, birds rushing off the trees as they fly away from the agonizing sound that now goes silent. You notice that both your attention, and your hunter's, have been distracted by the scream. You try and see through the leaves, and despite all your training, all your preparation, even all your fantasies, when you do see it, you let out a sharp gasp. It's Becky, the larger woman that was so afraid earlier, laying lifeless on the ground, blood leaking out of her mouth, while her hunter, likely the same man who forced her into this hunt, tears her organs out of her belly and throws them in a hole he's dug in the ground.
You see your own reflection for a moment in the darkness of her eyes. You realize if you don't make a decision to do something, that you're going to end up just like her very soon. You see out of the corner of your eye that your hunter raises one hand and nods to the man gutting the poor woman. You realize this leaves just one hand on the rope holding your neck - it may now be now or never.
[[Make a run for it. He's distracted. His grip is loosened and if you don't do something, you're going to end up slit open and processed.->Resist]]
[[There's two hunters right here, one with a rifle. Decide this isn't your best chance but commit to escaping later.->Take Turns]]You ride, your wrists tied together, naked, in the back of a van to the Redwood Hunting Lodge just outside the banquet center where Zoe is set to be served tonight. The sign-up process in town went as seamlessly as Phoenix said it would; no questions were asked—you simply shared that you'd like to volunteer for the "morning run", and you were escorted to the back of a transport truck.
Your heart pounds through your chest as the van comes to a stop. As you're walked off the truck, you can see the lodge, which has a fenced-in area of forest behind it. There is a front door and a back door, with only the lodge itself behind them.
You walk into the Redwood hunting lodge and are immediately taken off guard, despite your efforts to maintain your composure, as the sheer volume of women who have been mounted, stuffed, or skinned in this otherwise charming log cabin is jarring. As you look around the room, you notice that even the furniture appears to be upholstered with women's skin, the end tables are made with bones, and there is even an ashtray made out of an unlucky woman's skull.
As you approach the desk, you can't help but stare at what hangs from the ceiling just adjacent—a living, breathing woman, tied spread-eagle, dangling helplessly with a spreader gag in her mouth, moaning quietly to herself. Her eyes are half glazed over ans she just mumbles to herself. You notice what HAS to be...dried semen...on her lips, between her legs, and all over her back. You look up and see a sign:
HUNTERS RELIEF WOMAN: DON'T GO INTO BATTLE WITH A LOADED RIFLE!
MOUTH: $20
PUSSY: $50
ASS: $65
"Yeah, that's what happens to those who break the rules."
You look over and see a giant older man with a nametag that just says "Sam" standing over you, scanning you from your toes to your head with the patience and exactness of someone who has done the same thing a thousand times before.
"Break the rules?"
"Yeah, there aren't MANY rules here, but if you break them, well, you belong to us." He says this while sliding a packet of paperwork in your direction. "To be honest, she's made the lodge a pretty penny in her two weeks of service."
"How long does she have to be up there?"
He laughs.
"Oh, when someone ELSE breaks the rules, that woman will take her place, and we will probably have this one shipped off to be ground up. Unless, of course, anyone calls dibs..." He says, eyeing her calf. "It's all in the paperwork."
The woman moans loudly through her gag, but you can't make out the words.
"Anyway, here to sign up? Just need to see your ID and get your name on this paper, and we'll get you running. You should make a nice lunch for one of our members."
[[Write Scarlett Sky on the documentation. ->Wrong Name DQ]]
[[Write Claire Wood on the documentation. ->Staging Area]]It can't end like this. You fought for so long and so hard. And you know the second horn just has to be near. You keep moving your feet, getting closer to the lodge as you wait for that horn to blow. You've even found a decent hiding spot, just near the area where you can be declared safe the minute that the hunt is over.
You see the man who had walked out and blown the horn before exit the lodge, the ancient instrument in his hand. You've made it. You've gotten all the way to the end. You're going to March in, except your invitation to the banquet, sneak into the kitchen, save Zoe, and get out of here.
You feel a rush of relief as the layer of the horn echoes through the wood. The hunt is over. You have survived. You stand confidently and walk right toward the entrance way where the hunt began.
As you do, you see one of the hunters, sans a doe, walking flashing an eager smile at your face. You decide not to smile back. There's no point in having a conversation with this person, or really engaging in any banter. You have a job to do.
And as you're just about to step out into the open and approach the lodge, you see the man trying to run up at you. You time his way so that even as he grabs at you, and he's even able to pinch your skin, you've used this momentum to throw him right over your shoulder and out of the ground. You take two steps back, remembering that assault on other hunters is not allowed, and approach the Lodge.
As you do, you feel yourself becoming weak and your body begins to stumble. You don't understand, he barely landed any contact on you besides the strange pinch at your arm. As you wander your eyes to that position, you see a needle sticking out of your bicep.
You lose control of your body as you fall face first into the dirt. You can only Mumble as you feel drugged as you're suddenly weightless as you float into the staging area and towards the lodge. But then, suddenly whoever is carrying you turns left and you see you're headed right towards a fire pit.
" Fire up the coals. Bag this one at the last minute."
You try to explain that this man is cheated and that you would successfully survived or in a horn. But you can't get the words out and through blurry vision. You see the orange tags dropped across your ankle. You look around as no one protest or even tries to validate his story, and you feel yourself starting to black out entirely.
It can't end like this...
It turns out it does not end like this, with you blacking out into death in darkness, as you're suddenly shocked back in the light as you feel something sharp and metal entering your vagina. You feel your body being held down by multiple hands as the man Rams a spit through your body, taking no care as to whether he penetrates in Oregon or through your throat as he forces it all the way out of your mouth. You hang limp and twitching as him and another man. Hang you over the fire. Setting you to rotisserie and cook.
You're still alive as you feel the flames beginning to cook your flesh, and your eyes roll back in your head and defeat. As much as you'd like to try and fight, you've been spitting alive and will not rotisserie until you're good enough to eat.
Game over. You were eating.
Epilogue
You're now golden brown body continues to rotisser over the Open flame. Parts of you have already been cut off, and are being served at a picnic table. The man eagerly shares his spoils, give it lunch and a full belly before they go out to hunt the next wave of women.
Those women were just as desperate for any other life than you were hoping to provide for Zoe. But, just like they will soon enough, who are simply meat spinning on a stick, that once everyone is full, will be packed up and consumed over the next couple days, until the rest of you is unceremoniously thrown in the trash and forgotten forever.Earlier never use your real name, but don't count on your fake name lasting either. Want someone figures it out, anyone can figure it out
You hear the horn signaling. The hunt is over and you nearly collapse and exhaustion
Thank God you mutter to yourself
Even though it should be safe to simply walk back to the compound, you still tread softly and slip through the trees as the darkness begins to set. You don't want there to be any accidents or whatever else could take place. You're pleased that you don't run into any other hunters as you return to the lodge
The lodge is not a welcoming site for a woman in one piece. All of the hunters stare angrily at you, some of them with faces smeared in barbecue sauce as Rebecca turns over a spit, two other girls are hung on poles, and another is packaged in a cooler. It looks like you're the only survivor. Survivor. It looks like they resent you for even surviving. Story of your life
As you walk back on the lodge, only the hunt Master stands at the table. He flashes a smile with the same menacing, authoritarian sociopath. I stare at you. He takes a moment to put your paperwork on the desk and taps his fingers before pointing to the bottom
Just sign here Miss, and you can be on your way.
You nod and grab a pen and as you go to write your name, your eyes skim the contract just to make sure you're signing the right thing. Obviously, if 5 years ago taught you anything it's not to sign the wrong document-
Your eyes widened as you see that the name on the contract is Scarlet sky, not Claire so and so.
Before you can fully become cognizant of this, a nice slams into your right hand, pitting it to the desk. You squeal and try to pull your hand back but it firmly gripped to the wood as the huntsman puts his other hand on your wrist. You look up in a panic
Yeah, we got a call about you just a few minutes ago. Would have had us fooled if he had come in any later. But now, there's only one thing left to do. I want to make sure you watch this. He takes his other hand and grabs a stamper and softly presses down on your contract as you releases it in giant red letters, it reads deceased
Yeah, seems like 5 years ago you were subjugated and were supposed to be supper. I don't know how you did it. I don't know where you've been, but I can definitely tell you where you're going
He passed his stomach
Jurisdiction for girls like you false to me. Looks like I'm going to be eating good tonight after all.
He leans in
But not before I skin you alive. I've been needing some new upholstery and you have just the skin that I like
He raises arm back and you try to defend yourself but one slug to your jaw and you were out cold
Game over you were eaten
Epilogue
The huntmaster's home is darker. It decorated with various trophies of women all over, heads, etc etc
He takes a seat on a kitchen table and rubs his seat against your skin, now upholstered as a seat cushion. He grabs a rib and sucks the meat off the bone
*********************************
Alt:
Just as you realize, the name on the paperwork is Scarlett Sky. The huntmaster slams a knife into your hand, pinning it to the wooden table you watch as the blood pours and soaks into the ink
You try to pull your hand back but it is firmly stuck as he grabs your other wrist
I want you to watch this
He takes the rubber stamper and slowly presses it just outside the blood on your paperwork as he pulls it off in giant red letters it says deceased
Yeah, we got a call about you just a few minutes ago. Turns out the little alias of yours isn't going to fly and that you were subjugated 5 years ago. If anything you should be dead, but don't worry you're going to be very soon. He picks up his phone and makes a call
Hey Bob, how's the meat market going?
He takes a moment to stare in your eyes to examine your response. Your hand still pinned against the table
Yeah yeah, well I've got one to sell to you. A little lean, looking pretty used but you know if you grind it up I'm sure you can get some good. Some good meat out of it all right? I'm going to have one of the boys send it over thanks
Try to form words in your mouth just as he grabs you by the throat
Oh, don't worry. You won't be the one going to the market. At least, not yet .
You hear the rattling of chains next to you and you turn your head. No. He forces your head to turn as he still has you by the throat as you watch. The hunter relief girl is unchained from her harness and walked out of the building
No, we've got something a little more special in mind for you in the meantime
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Pump pump pump
You don't know how many days it's been that you've been hanging. Here. You've lost count. You just know that you've been humiliated as hundreds of men have taken terms stuffing money into a little box and then stuffing their dicks into your little holes. You've been bred, spanked, punched, and had semen splashed all over your body
Once a day, you're hosed off, and left to dry in the sun. They force some type of meal supplement down your throat, probably from ground up meat girl, a supplement that you'll soon be a part of, just enough to keep you alive and hydrated even though you're rapidly losing weight. And then, it's back on the chains, and back to being a f*** toy and relief instrument for anyone who comes in to haunt the next woman.
You've completely given up on being rescued or being anything else but this. And what feels like the third or fourth, or even fifth week of this, another girl breaks the rules. You watch and groan just as the other girl had done for you, not really saying a sound, but muttering a final sense of relief. As you're unchanged and brought to be sold to the market, where you'll be butchered, and laid out with tonight's cuts, you don't even protest. You just wanted to be over.
You don't fetch a very good price has. Your meat quality is degraded and when the butcher slips two fingers into your c***, he shakes his head and says that you're way too used to be of much value. They decide that your entire body would be better served as meat for stew and your Cube into bite size pieces and sold at the lowest cost, likely for a budget meal for a family. Just trying to get by
Really, you die the minute you started to be f***** by the men who laughed at you as they enjoyed you for their pleasure. This was just a formality.You close your eyes and try to scream at the top of your lungs through the apple. You rock the cart back and forth until you feel a wheel lift of the ground, crashing down with a loud crack. You take another breath and scream again, and then a third time.
You watch as she walks over, looking rather annoyed. It worked. You got her attention.
“Alright, ALRIGHT, I already have a headache,” she says.
You scream loudly and try to push the apple forward in hopes that she will pull it out.
“I knew I should’ve picked one of the quiet ones…” she says, looking at the counter and grabbing a wooden rolling pin. “…but my husband always says the lively ones taste better.”
She sighs as her eyes wander briefly to the den adjacent to the kitchen. You notice she’s staring at a woman’s head that has been mounted over the fireplace. By the time you look back, she’s staring right at you.
“…he probably won’t even notice the lumps, now will he?”
Your eyes widen as she raises the rolling pin, and before you can scream again, she swings it down with all her might and cracks it against the front of your skull. You feel everything go dizzy, and as you try to focus your vision through the pain to look at her again, a second crack puts you into darkness for good.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
You slowly awaken in a place where the room is bathed in a red-hot light. You close your eyes as you feel an intense stinging in them, a salty sweat that you can’t rub out of your vision because you can’t get your hands to move. You also feel an intense pain in your stomach, like you’re impossibly full, but there’s also an splitting ache at the center.
You shake your head back and forth and force your eyes open through the pain of the salt in your sweat, trying to make out that the red light is in a U shape. You realize—it’s the heating element inside the oven. You try to lift your head as it throbs, but you crash back down as you don’t have the muscle control. You try to scan your body and notice that your skin has already turned darker than it was after your longest day at the beach—a crisp, golden brown. If you don’t act fast, your goose is as good as cooked.
You can smell yourself cooking, too. A simple medley of fresh herbs and roasting vegetables, along with a pleasant glaze, fills your nostrils. But, it's all mixed together with YOUR scent, and you hate to admit you're smelling rather good.
You try and shimmy your pan closer to the oven door, hoping to be able to push it open. As you do, the intense pain in your stomach returns, and you nearly black out from the pain.
You struggle to lift your head to look, and your eyes bulge as you see it—the signature stitching across your belly, the bread that has burst through. You’ve already been gutted, cleaned out, and stuffed at some point while you were passed out, and you’re already dead.
You feel your mind fading away as your head slams back down into the roasting tray, setting in it's final position. You let out one final exhale and doze off to cook.
*********************
[[CHECKPOINT: Dee’s House ->Home Cooked 1]]You walk over to the average-looking woman staring out the window. You can tell from her body language that she hears you approaching, but she doesn't turn her head to acknowledge you.
"Hi, my name is Claire. And you are?"
"I'm Nobody. I don't have anything to say to you. You're here, I'm here, and both of us won't be here in a little while. It just is what it is."
"Oh, okay. Well, I wouldn't give up hope, or you're done for. I've been in a similar spot before—lots of them—and I've found that you just have to always believe."
You hear her choke back a laugh.
"Hope won't stop a bullet, Claire. You can believe all you want, but it won't stop you from hanging on THAT pole by the end of the day."
She points, and you peer out the window at the "Doe Pole", the ropes that will string up unlucky women waiving ominously with the breeze.
"That is where they are going to hang our carcasses for display after they are done ripping our organs out. That is, if they don't catch you alive. Just 'hope' they don't—or you'll be taken home to an even worse fate. I..."
Her head lowers, and for the first time, she looks at you.
"I REALLY don't want to end up on that pole."
"Then don't. It's as simple as that."
She looks back out the window again.
"Simple as that, huh? Alright, Claire, whatever you say. At least the advice YOU give here is sincere."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Let me just put it this way. I don't think anyone in this room is interested in helping anyone else. There's four of us, and four of them. For every one of us that gets picked off and dragged back here, there's one less hunter in play. So ask yourself: would it be in your best interest to help another woman stay alive if it meant one more hunter was still out there looking to harvest YOUR meat?"
"I guess you have a point."
"This isn't four versus four, Claire. It's each of us against everyone else. That's how this game is played. If you keep that in mind, you'll survive. And if you survive..."
She pauses.
"...it'll probably be because I'll be the one hanging by my ankles, with my hair being pulled back for a photo."
[[Find someone else to talk to. ->Staging Area]]
[[You're ready. Begin the hunt.->Begin Hunt]]You're unable to break through the spell of the Aura of Varde as it carries you over the simmering pot of soup. But, you also feel it doesn't make sense that the thick broth would be hot enough to cook you just yet, as she had just lit the flames. You conclude you should have a few minutes to simmer first - and that could be just enough time to escape.
Just as you reach that conclusion, you feel yourself lowered in – and you exhale in relief. It's very hot, but somewhat enjoyable – very much how you run your bath at home: hot enough for you to fantasize about being a lobster, but not enough to kill you.
"My, my... you're really stretching this out, aren't you?" Abutit says, clear strain in her voice. "Why can't you accept the inevitable?"
You don’t have a full grasp of what is going on here, but you know you’re on the right track. You close your eyes, and keep repeating in your mind:
*This won't cook me. It's not happening. It's not...*
She raises her hand, and you see the flames rise over the pot, engulfing the cauldron in fire. You feel the soup get hotter, and you nearly pass out, but you force your eyes open and try to visualize the broth calming down instead of roaring to a boil. As you do, the flames die down, and the heat again mimics one of your very hot baths.
Abutit stands with her arms crossed in front of you, a wrinkled finger tapping impatiently against her forearm.
"You're really insistent on making this difficult, aren't you?" She says through gritted teeth. "You know you want this; I can smell your desire to be boiled..."
She pauses, and as a grin slowly forms on her face, it stretches her skin so tight that a rip forms at her cheeks, with a dark, purplish blood oozing out.
"Oh, I see. I saw what you fantasize too. I understand what you need now, dearie..."
She raises a hand and the green light flashes over your eyes again, and you see the soupy broth drain out of the pot, disappearing down the bottom, even though there is no hole at the bottom. Another flash of light encircles your body, and you're lifted out of the pot, and hovered towards the cutting board on the kitchen table.
"Yes, it looks like I won't be having soup after all. It's a disappointment, as it REALLY is my favorite, but it has been far too long since I've had...seafood."
You feel yourself dropped out of the air and you crash down onto the white plastic cutting board. As you try and slide your arms underneath you to push yourself up, you don’t see a hand at the end your arm.
You see a claw.
"That's right. This is what you crave, isn't it? You like to turn your bathwater up REAL HOT and pretend you're a [[little lobster,->Pot Bad]] don’t you?"
Abutit snaps her fingers and a large stainless-steel pot appears on a red-hot burner next to you. She lifts the lid and you can see the water roaring as it leaks over the top.
You turn your head and see that you have not one, but two claws. You try and move your feet and feel a tail wriggling back and forth behind you. You don't know how she's done it - but she's absolutely turned you into a lobster, a very large lobster at that, and you have no idea what to do next.
She uses her magic to lift you up and you [[hover you over the pot,->Pot Bad]] turning you so your black eyes meet hers.
"Once a week, you turn the water [[scalding hot,->Pot Bad]] [[dip your head under,->Pot Bad]] and then [[scream out and pretend you're being boiled.->Pot Bad]] Isn't that right? Well, my little lobster, it's [[time for your bath."->Pot Bad]]
You quietly admit to yourself she's mostly right, although, there's just one part of the that has yet to be fulfilled. It doesn’t make sense, culinary wise, but it’s always how you imagine it would go.
Ever since your first week in Dolcett, you’ve struggled to have pleasure without mixing in the [[thought of a little pain. ->Lobster Break]]
She releases her hand and you feel yourself submerge into the boiling water. The pain and pressure on your now exoskeleton is intense, with you screeching out in agony as you writhe and boil alive. You hear Abutit's laughter through the roaring water, the sound only changing as the lid is placed over the pot, sealing you inside.
"I need butter..." You hear her say, as the intensity of the heat convinces you that you are absolutely boiling alive, your shell turning a red just as your tail starts to go still. You somehow know that your meat inside is still tender, and will be delicious when she cracks your shell and scoops your insides out. Your last moment is a slight shudder as you feel an orgasm go through your now bright red body, sealing your fate and fantasy as a lobster dinner come true.
In just a few moments, you will be served as Abutit's seafood supper.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Just as you feel your body succumb, you feel something else being pulled from inside of you as well. It's almost like your essence is being dragged out of your body.
In your final seconds, you feel your consciousness itself, instead of evaporating and drifting away, being pulled by some malevolent force toward the witch. You don't know how to process or understand what's happening, as it is unlike any other sensory experience you've ever had. You are still yourself, and yet, you are no longer a part of your body.
Your spirit settles into what feels like some type of container. Whatever has happened, you feel restrained in wherever you now dwell, and you know one thing with absolute certainty.
This feels very, verry unnatural. You don't know what you believe about the afterlife, but you know you've been prevented from accessing it. You are now a prisoner in a dark place, your soul also being feasted on, a feeeling you wish you had never, ever experienced.
*************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs AM, Mysterious Wood ->The Mysterious Wood]]**Strict-Smile2087 proudly presents:**
<span class="appear d2">**One**</span> <span class="appear d3">**(More)** </span> <span class="appear d2">**Week in Dolcett:**</span> <span class="appear d3">**Scarlett Sky**</span>
<span class="appear d1">
{embed image: 'https://preview.redd.it/gv2du6koirlh1.png?width=176&height=238&format=png&auto=webp&s=f892d930c20d9568ab22fc17c771d465712f159a'}
</span>
<span class="appear d4">
**IFCOMP 2026 EDITION**
[[Begin Adventure. ->Story begins]]
{load save: 'Load a Saved Game.'}
[[Read a Summary of the Previous Story: One Week in Dolcett ->One Week in Dolcett]]
Copyright 2026 Strict-Smile2087
Note: One (More) Week in Dolcett is a story about the human condition. As such, no generative AI was used in the outlining, planning, structuring, writing, or development of this game. It is a journey about people, written by a person, presented for those brave enough to challenge themselves on the perilous journey towards self-actualization.
</span>Items:
Map of Farmland
Married necklace (Dee?)
Perfect training bonus
Clue of 13 bracelet
Hair Scissors“Then, the word is given,” you say with a smile. “I’m just going to pack my carry-on.”
You turn your back to Jenna as you walk over to the closet to roll your suitcase out. As you grasp the handle, a knife pierces through your back and directly into your heart. You stand frozen in place as your body stiffens, self-preservation trying to prevent the blade from tearing into you any further. Your eyes widen as the shock sets in and a deep sense of betrayal rushes over you.
"Jenna... Why..."
"My Mistress is going to be very pleased with me. She's been looking forward to dining on you for a long time."
"Char...lene..."
"That's right, Scar. You're going in her oven, TONIGHT, and then, in her stomach. But don't worry - I'll be taking over SkyCorp and everything will be handled JUST like it was five years ago. Innocent women are BACK on the menu.”
You slump over in death and fall right into Jenna’s arms, eager to catch you and deliver you to Charlene as the oven roaster she’s always wanted.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
"I wanted her alive. We TALKED about this, darling. Alive."
Jenna kneels as Charlene walks around her, a riding crop in her hand.
"I understand Mistress. I'm sorry Mistress."
“And now, well, now…” Charlene says with a grin. “My little ham hock won’t get to experience the oven that I had made specifically for her. At least, she won’t experience it while she’s able to breathe in the lovely scent of her own glaze…”
Charlene smiles as she looks across the kitchen. There, a brand-new, commercial-grade oven glows orange. Your glazed, bound, stuffed torso rests in a pan, surrounded by fresh vegetables, with a special pan collecting your drippings underneath.
“She’s still dinner, Mistress. That’s all that matters.”
Charlene whips Jenna with the riding crop, with Jenna yelping out.
“Have you forgotten your manners, pet? Ask permission to speak. Unless..."
Charlene leans so close to Jenna's ear that her red lipstick wipes off on her face.
"...unless you're offering yourself as an appetizer for my lovely main course."
Jenna quivers as her eyes remain down at the floor.
"Mistress...may I please speak?"
Charlene sighs and whips Jenna again, her heels clicking on her immaculate tile flooring.
"Choose your words wisely, pet, as they may be your last. You have GRAVELY disappointed me, darling, if you catch my meaning."
"It's just..."
“Speak.”
“Scarlett was a very clever woman. She survived every challenge this country threw at her. She was able to fight off Leikr, toppled the government, and was even able to slay Puma Catori in her own forest."
“And, darling?" Charlene says, her voice impatient.
“She would have found a way to survive if we brought her here alive.”
“But I had planned for EVERYTHING—”
“No one can plan for Scarlett Sky, Mistress. No one EVER has. So, I saw an opportunity to get everything you've always wanted, and I took it.”
Charlene looks over at your roasting body in her oven.
"I did it all for you, Mistress. Please forgive me."
Charlene lets out a loud sigh, tapping her finger on the riding crop.
“...maybe you’re right. Scarlett was a cunning bird. Better to have her roasting in my oven, FINALLY, then not to have her at all." Charlene says, her race enraptured in pleasure at the mere mention of roasting you. "You’re a good pet after all, Jenna.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
"No orgasms for a month.” Charlene says sternly. “Understand?"
"Yes, Mistress."
“And you’re not to eat at the table. I’m having Scarlett all to myself,” she says, licking her lips.
"May I say one more thing?"
“Just one more. Then you are to clean up and get ready for our guest to arrive. We will still have everything I’ve planned by the time the day is over.”
"I want you to know, Mistress." Jenna says, a wicked smile flashing on her face. "I made sure that she knew. I made sure she understood before she died that YOU had won and would be the one eating her."
“Oh, really now?”
Charlene walks over and lifts your severed head by the hair off of the bloody butcher block where she severed it. She can barely contain her excitement, her breath rapid, intense, eager as she lines up your dead, vacant eyes with hers.
"Is that true, darling? Did your best friend tell you just as she pushed a knife in your back that I would be the one eating you? It is just DREADFUL that I wasn't able to break inside you myself...but..."
The kitchen timer BEEPS.
"...you're finally roasting in my ven, just like I've always said. Five long years, Scarlett. And now, I FINALLY get to baste you."
Charlene licks your dead face before setting your head back down on the cutting down. She then slides the oven open and ladles your drippings on your torso, the heat of the oven glowing back in her eyes.
Her teeth slowly appearing from behind her red lips, eager to finally sink into you.
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Saturday AM ->Jenna test]]*It turns out that the person I loved the most, trusted the most, and would give anything for had already decided—and probably decided long ago—that I was going to die. I wasn't consulted in the decision that my life was going to end, as I live in a society where it’s not even proper to involve the departed in that type of decision-making. That isn't what women are allowed to do here, despite everything I've talked about and everything I've tried to accomplish by writing this book.*
*As I stood with the box in my hands, I ached in two different places: somewhere deep in my chest, from the betrayal of the one I loved the most; and somewhere deep within my pussy, from the aching that has been instilled in me since the day I came of age.*
*Is it nature versus nurture?*
*Is it my fault that I agreed so eagerly every time it was brought up, that one day my time on a platter would come?*
*Is it frustration that I thought my love for him, and his love for me, would overcome all of this?*
*At the end of the day...*
*...there are two emotions that cause human beings to act so irrationally that they can cease to be themselves.*
*One is love.*
*The other is lust.*
**************************************************
You and Zoe pull back up to the hotel for the final time on the last day in Dolcett.
As you walk through the lobby, you let out a smile. You're going to make it, and so is she. The cost weighs on you, but the conclusion is in sight.
"Okay, Zoe, go up to your room, pack your stuff, and meet me in the lobby. We'll call a cab and go straight airport. I'll call Jenna from my room and she’ll have us on the first flight out of here."
"See ya in a bit. Don't leave without me, okay?" Zoe teases.
"Never."
As you step off the elevator and walk toward your room, you feel a shadow following behind you. You've been pursued so many times on this journey that you've honed an instinct for when a predator is near—and you commit to making the first move. Just as you pause at your door, you grip your room key, turn, and prepare to—
"Jenna?!"
Jenna stands behind you and walks in for a warm hug. You hold her in your arms, grateful to see your closest friend, before holding her at arm's length.
"But why are you here? I told you not to come. It's too—"
"Dangerous. For both of us, Scarlett. But you can't leave without this."
She flashes your passport—not the passport for Claire Wood, but for Scarlett Sky.
"Your fake name has been flagged. We needed a sure way to get you out in one piece – and quickly – your conversion visa expires at the end of the day."
"Thanks, Jenna. Thanks for always being there for me."
"Oh, just doing my job."
"You're more than that to me."
"Scarlett..." Jenna says as she shakes her head.
"Come on, let me get my things," you say, opening the door to your hotel room. "Zoe should be on her way down shortly. Can you get us a flight out of here?"
"We can get you on your way to your final destination as soon as you're ready."
You see a smirk flash on Jenna's face.
"Standby, of course. Just waiting for you to say the word."
[[Turn away from Jenna, get your carry-on, and head to the lobby to meet Zoe. Your visa is expiring and there isn’t a moment to waste. ->Jenna Betrayal]]
[[Turn to face Jenna and ask her to find you a flight now. It will delay your arrival, but you want everything handled before you take any further steps. ->Charlene Home A]]Leikr lunges forward just as you lunge at his neck, and you feel his blade enter right at your table and completely dig in your stomach, knocking the wind on it. You freeze in place just as you look as he grins viciously as the blade is firmly embedded in your stomach, and uses it places a hand. I don't need your crotch to literally pick you up in the sky and impale you on his knife.
A collective gasp goes through the assembled masses at the parade route. Phoenix's head sinks. Zoe cries. Blueberry runs away. Puma shakes her head.
Yes... I've got Scarlett on a f****** stick. Now, my skewer little pet, I'm going to make sure Bob out of your stupid ass. Just like I always should have. Just like menopause made women.
Everyone at the dinner party looks over at the woman who did not want to climb into the suit. She lowers her head, walks back over, and then dips a toe in, before gently easing her way into the hot liquid that will cook her to death.
Like here. Slams You down on the ground as you bleed out from the stomach the police. Begin to line up and arrest the lfd as well as capture the women who fled from you with the parade ground.
Business as usual returns to dulce. You quietly expire. That's the key setters your head and hangs it up in victory.
Game over you were eating
Epilogue.Puma's right leg slams into your rib cage, just under your armpit, and you feel a rib shift through your intercostal muscles from the brutality of the impact.
"You're not paying attention. Remember—there won't be second chances in Dolcett. You make a mistake like that, and those ribs will be soaked in barbecue sauce, smoked, and then picked clean."
You take a breath through the pain and steady yourself to continue.
"You have to read passages carefully. I'm going to repeat what I just said: The text itself has ALL of the right answers you'll need on your journey to ensure your survival. It's just a matter of careful reading and making the right decision. But, of course, Dolcett is a very dangerous place, and often the answer won't be right in front of you. Sometimes, you'll have to read the text carefully and look for clues or indications of the right answer. Sometimes, the correct answer will be hidden in the text, with a certain word or its synonyms repeated throughout the body that precedes the choice as a way of guiding you forward. You have to read carefully, and then perhaps again after you see the choices, to find the right answer.
"Let's see if you can figure this out. I'm going to throw a kick. Let's see if you can figure out which one is the right one to block."
[[Defend a kick from her right leg. ->Tutorial Recall]]
[[Defend a kick from her left leg. ->Kicked 2]]Puma's right leg slams into your rib cage, just under your armpit, and you feel a rib bend inside you as you fold over and take three steps backward, trying to catch your breath through the stabbing pain.
"Listen, I don't know what you're doing, but this is the easiest version of this type of challenge. If you can't figure out that I'm repeating the same word over and over as a hint to the safe route, you're going to run out of 50/50 guesses quickly on your trip, and then someone is going to kill and eat you. They might even cook you alive—in fact, I might just do that out of spite for you being so obtuse."
Jenna rushes up to you.
"She said the word 'right' six times. She's telling you to block her right leg. You're smarter than this. Come on!" Jenna says.
Puma pushes Jenna back and faces you.
"You have to read passages carefully. I'm going to repeat what I just said: The text itself has ALL of the right answers you'll need on your journey to ensure your survival. It's just a matter of careful reading and making the right decision. But, of course, Dolcett is a very dangerous place, and often the answer won't be right in front of you. Sometimes, you'll have to read the text carefully and look for clues or indications of the right answer. Sometimes, the correct answer will be hidden in the text, with a certain word or its synonyms repeated throughout the body that precedes the choice as a way of guiding you forward. You have to read carefully, and then perhaps again after you see the choices, to find the right answer.
"Let's see if you can figure this out. I'm going to throw a kick. Let's see if you can figure out which one is the right one to block."
[[Defend a kick from her right leg. ->Tutorial Recall]]
[[Defend a kick from her left leg. ->Kicked 3]]Puma's right leg slams into your rib cage so hard that you feel three of your ribs shatter inside your body and you fold over, blood leaking out between your lips. You try to take a breath, but you can't breathe deeply, and as you cough, blood continues to splatter on the floor as you become dizzy.
"Great, I punctured your lung. Which means, you can't even go to Dolcett now, as you'd die from the pressure changes in the cabin on the plane. You really couldn't tell I said "right" six times? I even said correct - which is a synonym for right."
You fall down on your knees as you gasp for air, looking up just as Puma places a hand on your head. You watch as her gaze narrows and you see her lick her lips.
"You know what? You ARE going to go back to Dolcett. Just not in the way you thought..."
She leans in to your ear.
"You're going back wrapped tightly in plastic and sealed away for my freezer. You're going to get through customs just fine as you'll just be packages of meat."
You feel her push her fist into your punctured lung, causing the rib to stab deeper into you and pressing all the oxygen out of your body as your lung is torn open from the inside. You gasp and asphyxiate, feeling yourself black out from the pain.
"That's it, let it go. You were always meant to be my dinner. The forest has spoken."
You shudder one final time before going completely still in Puma's arms.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
"I...can't believe she couldn't figure out such a simple repetition prompt." Jenna says, walking over to your body, a vacant stare in her eyes. "It really wasn't that difficult. I wonder if she wanted it to be over?"
Puma stands in the executive bathroom, which is complete with a shower, as she runs one of her blades across your neck, carefully draining the blood from your body.
"There's no need to make sense of it. I put as much work into her as anybody, but at the end of the day, she was NEVER a warrior. Some people never are."
Puma stands and stares at Jenna, letting the uncomfortable silence linger for a while.
"It's alright, though. The important thing is..." Puma pauses to turn your head to meet hers, a vacant stare in your eyes as you dangle by your ankles over the shower drain.
"...the important thing is I'm finally going to be eating Scarlett. That's all that has ever mattered.
****************************
[[Checkpoint: Restart Tutorial ->Tutorial Literal]]You've had enough of this—enough of him calling you a bitch and how he's going to turn you into a trophy. This is a man who has apparently spent his life advancing himself solely on the women he's murdered. You won't stand for it, and you certainly won't stand him.
You swoop around to his back, planning to grab his neck and snap it right off his shoulders. Your rage is causing you to rush, your heart pounding in your chest, and you're surprised by how little he defends himself, as if he is practically offering his neck as you move behind him. You feel a rush of excitement as you swoop in and reach your hands toward the underside of his chin and the top of his head to snap his neck. But just as your hand slips underneath his jaw, he bites your hand HARD. You scream out as you try to break free, and he uses the opportunity to headbutt you in the jaw as he tries to roll backward into you.
The impact is enough to knock you backward onto your back, and within a second, he's on top of you in a full mount, with both hands at your throat. His blood drips from his nose onto your face, and you can see him grin through the blood on his teeth.
"That's it. Now I've fucking got you, Scarlett Sky."
As you try to pull him off, he picks you up by the neck and slams your head onto the wood, then does it a second time, which knocks you a little silly. You feel yourself begin to black out as he chokes the life out of you.
You can't believe this. You became so enraged by his name being called that you let your guard down. And now...
"I've seen this look before. So many times," Leikr proclaims.
Your vision fades as life leaves your body. The last thing you hear is...
"Welcome to my collection. Bitch."
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
"It's just too much. It'll put us out of business."
In a boardroom, three women dressed in business suits sit at one end of the table, while three men sit opposite them. The men look bored, smug, and indifferent. The women are animated, emphatic, and insistent.
"What you're asking for isn't right. We've done everything the right way—as is required by law. Our business is backed by a majority stake from a male shareholder. He already takes 30% of our profits just for allowing us to have the business in his name.
"If we double our margin to you, we won't be profitable. I won't be able to pay my workers. I won't be able to pay myself. If we accept this newly negotiated rate that you're trying to force on us, we'll go out of business. I don't think that's good for either of us. We've worked together for years."
"You've worked for us for years," one of the men says.
"Then I'd guess we'd rather not be in business at all than be so poor that we're practically slaves," one of the women says.
The boardroom is quiet for a moment. No one speaks, and an impossible impasse hangs between them.
The door to the conference room opens. The women look, but the men do not. The sounds of feminine gasps and shrieks fill the room while one of the men laughs under his breath.
Leikr takes a seat at the middle of the table, holding something in his hand as he looks bored.
"You didn't tell me he was going to be here. What's he doing here?"
"Oh, Mister Leikr? He has no stake in our company or our contract. He simply asked if he could sit in on negotiations."
"Yes," he says with an exhausted sigh. "I was told there might be some interesting women here." He says this while picking at something stuck in his teeth, then rubbing a piece of flesh between his fingers before sucking it back into his mouth with his tongue.
He sounds like he's reading from a script.
"Now, as we were saying, we would like you to stay in business. In fact, you're right about what you said earlier. He isn't good for us if you go out of business. That's why you're going to accept our terms, and you're going to work."
"But, but—"
Two of the women are so startled and scared by Leikr that they don't even look in his direction. They simply look elsewhere, down in fear. One of them slides her finger across the paper and taps on the terms again.
"I'm telling you, if we take this deal—"
Leikr slams your kneecap onto the paperwork, so loudly that it startles every other person in the room except for him. Just how he likes it.
"You know, it's not every day that you hear a woman talking back to a man like this. You're starting to sound very... interesting... to me."
The last remaining speaking woman audibly gulps.
"Do you know what I did to the last businesswoman I thought was interesting?"
She looks down at your kneecap.
"Scarlett Sky."
"That's right. To tell you the truth, she actually used this very knee to break my nose. But then..."
He leans in and stares into the three women's eyes.
"I choked the life out of her and ate her. Now, I carry this around as a reminder that when women are left unchecked, they might start to think their value is just a little bit too high. I think you'd much rather take this very generous offer. Don't you think?"
Moments later, the contracts are signed. The business these women have spent over a decade building will only remain operational if they work and live in poverty. They realize that it's better to live than to be added to the collection.
As they leave, one of the men in the suits comes to shake Leikr's hand. He pretends like he doesn't notice, still examining the grooves on your patella.
"You know, no human bone is ever exactly the same. I feel like I've looked at this a dozen times, and every time I look, I notice something different. Something unique."
"...We were just coming to thank you."
"You can thank me by honoring our agreement. I get half of the profits that I negotiated today. That's all I'm interested in. I have appearances to keep up and a lifestyle to live."
"We negotiated a third."
"I am taking a half. Or, I hear your daughter hasn't taken a husband."
"Half it is, Mr. Leikr. Thank you so much."
Out the same door, the women flee, and now the men do as well. Leikr's kneecap hangs in the air, and he catches it, spinning it around and enjoying it. His control over this world and his legacy continues to grow, with you as the latest example of what happens to anyone who dares stand in his way.
******************
[[Checkpoint: Wednesday AM ->First Duel Clean]]You scan the room, trying to not to look too much like an outside or gawk as you see a clearly unwilling woman suspended by rope over an open flame, being cooked alive over a bbq grill. You see her "friends" laughingou wander over to the table of six. As you scan the faces, only one of them matches the description, she she's young, she's shy, and she seems nervous about something. You've got to get to Malone time with her, whatever the cost .
One of the men at the table eyes you and begins a conversation .
Can we help you little lady? Are you looking for someone?
oh my god guys come on he would totally never eat me college student scene
Yes, actually I'm trying to find a friend of mine
Okay, well wouldn't you know what your friend looks like?
That's a good point. We haven't seen each other in a long time. Maybe it's you. Maybe it's are you Zoe by chance Zoe by chance
I don't know anyone by that name. She says continuing to fidget in her seat. Almost like she's aware of something but can't really do anything about it.
You know your friend might be in the back. That's where a lot of the girls come when they first get here.
The waiter comes over to the table.
Are you ready to place your order?
Foreign here is looking for a friend. I think he would be the right thing to do if she could be our friend for the night. Wouldn't you agree everyone. The table claps and cheers and you not along.
I am looking for a friend. Did anyone else come in here tonight? Dark hair goes by the name of Zoe.
The.
The waiter's eyes narrow as he looks over at the table.
One of the girls not just him on the cheek and gesture towards her purse.
Big tip for this table. The waitress the waiter looks back at you
The waiter looks back at you.
Well it depends. Are you the friend that they brought here today? If you're a friend of this table, if you're the friend of this table, then we can out gladly take a look and see if we can find anyone else that you're looking for. Is that the case ?
You look over nervously at the table as they smile and nod along
Yes, I am definitely part of this group. I'm a friend. Why not? So can you tell me about mine ?
This should be a similar ending to random dragons carnal ending where your made fun of and then eaten by a table of people and it's super hot but not super long cuz the story has to go onThe man's eyes light up.
"Yes, I can hardly wait," he says. "I'd like the—"
"I'd like the bring-a-friend special!" you blurt out. "I'd like to be seated at a table, just the two of us."
The man looks over at you, his expression a mixture of surprise, frustration, and rage.
"What?! You can't do that? I was about to—"
"Ma'am?" the waiter says. "Is this what you'd like?"
The girl looks at the man, then at you, and giggles.
"Well, it WAS nice to get to know you, mister, but you're a little pushy. So sure, I'd like to be-a-friend with, um... your name was?"
"Claire. And yours?"
"Zoe. Zoe Sanders. Nice to meet you."
"Not as nice as it is for me," you say with relief.
"Yeah, just great," the man says, slamming his fist on the bartop before throwing some money on the table and storming off.
"Alright, well, right this way, Miss Claire, to your table. And Miss Zoe, we need to take you to the back now..."
"...The back?"
"Actually, bartender..." you say, clearing your throat. "I'd like to be seated with my guest of honor first. I'd like to have a drink with her. May I buy you a drink, Zoe?"
"Well, that sounds nice. I'm drinking a cosmo."
"Two, then."
The waiter takes you both to be seated at a barbeque table. You look over and watch as a couple who was recently seated is brought out a tray of raw, sliced flesh - girl meat, no doubt, and they place it on the grill to cook. As it sizzles, you realize that she was that close, heck, you were probably that close to being an entree.
"Gosh, this place is JUST how I thought it would be." Zoe says, scanning the room.
"Oh? How is that?" you say, a frustrated curiosity in your voice.
"I mean, I've always wanted to travel here. To swim in the ocean, walk the beach, you know, do as the locals do."
Your eyes narrow.
"Where EXACTLY do you think you are, Zoe?"
"Florida, of course. Where do you think you are?"
You sigh loudly. You feel a hand on your wrist, and your adrenaline spikes. You rip your arm back, but notice it's just Zoe trying to get your attention.
"Thanks by the way. I think that guy was planning on, um..."
"Eating you?"
"Well, fucking me for SURE, but now that you mention it, he probably would've gone down on me, too. I even told him I was engaged and it didn't slow him down."
"Zoe, I have something you need to know. This isn't Florida."
"It's not?!"
"Yeah, and speaking of, who did you talk to at SkyCorp who set this-"
Zoe shrieks so loud it pierces your eardrums, and after you collect yourself, you whip your head around to match her field of vision. The table of six begins to cheer as a naked woman, shaved from head to toe, is brought over in a flame retardant net, and placed over an open flame that roars at their table as she slowly cooks. The woman tries to scream through a gag, and as she is unable to speak, she communicates with her eyes - which are full of panic, fear, disbelief, and defeat.
A man at the table turns the burner up, the flames instantly kissing her skin, with her yelping and screaming through her gag. He ignores her pleas, and picks up a knife sharpener and begins to scrape the blade loudly in front of her.
"This has been a LONG time coming, Lindsay. Now, who wants breast?"
The table cheers as Zoe stands up.
"We have to... help her..." Zoe says, standing up and beginning to walk over to the table.
You stand up quickly, place your hands on Zoe's shoulders, and push her back into her seat.
"Listen to me very carefully. You need to do exactly as I say, or you're going to get us both killed. Got it?"
Zoe just looks over and quietly nods. The waiter comes over and places the drink order on the table.
"Alright, the drinks have arrived. Is it time we got your order started?"You don't want to take off in a sprint or bring too much attention to yourself, but you move briskly toward your hotel door. The siren wails again, the sound reverberating through your spine and body as you lightly pick up your pace to a jog. Kyle drops the half-finished cigarette from his hands, licking his lips subtly. He grins widely as he opens the door to the lobby and waves you inside.
You don't make eye contact with him to avoid inviting any unneeded conversation as you rush inside. Just as you're getting through the doorway, you feel the metal door smash into your head, knocking you right to the floor in a concussive heap. Your head pounds from the impact as you feel hands desperately pressing into your lower back to keep you on the ground, then trying to pull your wrists together. Just as you start to regain your senses, you feel a bind around your wrists and pull hard, hearing a snap as you see a broken baggage tag go flying. As you try to turn over, you feel another tag wrapped around your wrists, and then another, with enough of them to secure your arms behind your back.
You're able to finally look up and see that Kyle is frantically scanning the room.
“Somebody saw that, right? She was outside AFTER the siren rang, and I got her. I got her before she came inside!”
You see a casual shrug from a few bystanders seal your fate.
“Holy shit. I can’t believe it. I actually got one. Not only did I get one, but I got THIS one. An American. A real exotic fucking meal.”
You try to find your way to your feet, but with your hands tied behind your back, you mostly squirm in place on the floor, still dizzy from the impact of the door cracking your skull.
“Oh, don’t you worry, sweetheart. You’re not going anywhere—I caught you fair and square. You do know what tonight is, don’t you?”
There’s something about having a door slammed on your head that jars your memory loose. You remember.
“…It’s Subjugation Night…” you whisper.
“That’s right. And do you know what that makes you?”
“Property,” you admit.
"Right again. But don't worry, I'm not going to sell you to an auction. No no, as much as I would enjoy the bonus, I've been thinking about eating that ass of yours for DAYS and I am NOT giving you up."
Your desperate kicks leave scuff marks on the hotel floor as Kyle struggles to heft you over his shoulder and carry you to a butcher shop just across the street.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Kyle doesn't even tell anymore that he's calling off the rest of his shift as he carries your writhing body down the street to the local butcher shop. He doesn't have to.
He has the privilege of being a male in Dolcett.
As he presses the door open and the bell chimes over his head, there is a line eight women deep, married housewives waiting for their opportunity to make a purchase for their husband’s Wednesday dinner. He pushes them all aside and throws your wiggling body onto the counter. He smiles as he looks up to the butcher, and shows a signed piece of paper that three witnesses saw you subjugated this night.
That's good enough for the butcher. It's good enough for Kyle. It wouldn't be good enough for the women who now have to wait even longer- but they do not benefit from the privilege of being a man in Dolcett.
You listen to the basic meals Kyle is planning to make you into - he certainly is no culinary expert and has no woman of his own, proudly sharing his bachelor status. You don't know what's more disappointing - your forgetting that Wednesday is subjugation day, being captured by someone like Kyle, or hearing that you're going to end up as hamburger, a few steaks, and a pack of bacon as he casually donates the rest of you to the shop because for him, eating you isn't even a luxury.
He again enjoys the privilege of being a man in Dolcett.
He gives your glutes one last squeeze, remarking that he's been planning to have your ham for his dinner all week. Tonight, he will, with the rest of you going home in a cooler. Before you came here, you were much more important than Kyle or anyone else like Kyle.
But here, you do not enjoy any privilege at all. The only privilege left to you is being a weekday dinner…
…for a man in Dolcett.
*******************
[[Checkpoint: Wed, 4:59pm ->Subj 1]]You allow your feet to circle around as Leikr unleashes a series of punches that threaten to overwhelm you, but you continue to parry, dodge, and reposition, waiting for a chance to get inside his stance and attack. You feel yourself becoming slightly overwhelmed as it’s a lot to move around, evade his attacks, and then launch an offensive of your own. As he throws a thundering kick toward your right ribs, you are too late to catch it. You try to pull your hips in to absorb the impact, but you hear a snapping as he cracks two of your ribs.
You reflexively winch and hunch over, your body’s instinct to protect itself overriding your training. Leikr takes advantage again, driving his fist into your broken ribs, which puncture your lung, leading to you coughing out blood. A raising knee to your jaw lands like an uppercut, knocking you to the ground below.
You try and slide backwards as the assembled crowd gasps in response. You can hear some cheers for Leikr as this demonstration is having the opposite effect than you’d hoped. They are beginning to rally behind him.
You rush forward in a panicked final effort to win the battle, but he has already won the war. The last thing you see is the wide grin he flashes on his face before he meets your stumbling effort at a tackle by lowering his center of gravity, lifting you by the neck and pelvis over his arms, and driving your back over his knee, cracking your spine in half.
The crowd begins to chant Leikr’s name, but you are already dead. The Ladies for Dolcett will soon follow, as the bloodlust shown by their hero has inspired them that they deserve the same fate that has just befallen you.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
“And now, let me show off one of my favorite and most unique parts of my collection.”
Leikr walks over to a glass case displayed in the living room of his very large home. Inside, rotating on a swivel, is a single set of rib bones, a light illuminating them from underneath. There is a small plaque beneath it, with “Scarlett Sky” engraved on the gold plate.
“Now, if you look closely right here…” Leikr says as two wealthy couples lean in.
He points to the fourth and fifth rib bones.
“You can see the exact spot where I was able to break her ribs with my kick, enough to knock the wind out of her. This was the turning point in our little fight. I say ‘little’ because it was never really in doubt what would happen, if I’m truly being honest…”
Leikr forces a laugh.
“…I was just pretending to struggle against her in an effort to entertain the people. But, at the end of the day, my responsibility first and foremost is to set an example to any woman watching of what would happen to them if they EVER challenged a man.
“Yes, this is a rather exquisite piece,” a man says as he stares into the case. “But where is the other rack?”
Leikr’s hand traces over his belly, and he taps just above his belly button.
“Oh, you see, I had those baked in my oven for hours. I wanted to pick the meat off them first, and then, if you REALLY want to know what is truly exquisite…”
“Tell us!” an excited younger wife says, having not learned the etiquette of her new found position just yet.
Leikr pauses for effect before raising a finger and pressing his lips into a tight-lipped smile.
“…what was truly exquisite was cracking those ribs, one by one, and sucking her marrow out. It was like I was breaking and conquering her anew each time.”
********************************
[[Checkpoint: Friday AM, City Center ->Duel One]]"...I have a last request." you whisper out, as you feel you're erupt if you speak any louder.
"I'm listening, doe." Ella says, pulling your hair back to line your neck up with the floor below.
"Choke me, just a little bit. Just squeeze my....UKKK."
Ella's hand wraps around your throat and squeezes hard, the pressure around your neck immediate.
"Don't have to tell me twice. Now cum for me. Cum for me HARD, slut, and then I'm going to grind you the fuck up and bake you in my oven."
You don't know why you suggested asphyxiation, as it's always done it for you. Your fantasies have just gotten dark and darker since your first week in Dolcett. Speaking of, your vision starts to get darker and darker as she chokes you, and the pressure she has on your cunt is exactly how you like it.
"Oh fuck. Oh fuck. I'm. I'm going to..."
You hear something metal slide off the wall and you feel a sharp blade press into your neck.
"Go ahead. Say it."
"I'm..."
You groan out as you try as you try and fight off release, her blade pressing even deeper in your neck. A trickle of blood runs down your face as she squeezes her hand as hard as she can around your neck.
"SAY IT."
"OH GOD I'M COMING. I'M COMING. I'M-"
You feel the tip of the blade slowly press inside of you, pausing there as you experience steel in your windpipe as you shake violently as the orgasm rushes through your body. Ella takes her time to pull your head back and slowly drag the blade across your throat, aiming the blood over the drain. Once she's done cutting, she uses her free hand to turn the water on and begins to spray down the floor.
For you, the orgasm was incredible - life changing, if your life would've continued. For her, it's business as usual, keeping the culling room clean as she drains out the last seconds of your existence. Your last thought as your orgasm subsidzes is that your life has ended too, and you visualize yourself served to her husband as a pan of homemade lasagna.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Ella turns the handle and guides a skinned portion of your shoulder blade into a meat grinder. She watches as the ground up pink hamburger slowly slides out and falls in a bowl. She smiles the entire time, feeling just as much of a conqueror as her husband must have, as she grinds you into meat.
She then places a large portion of you in a pan, with onions and spices and stirs before pouring a vat of your own, now-simmered ragù over the top.
She then opens the lid to check the hand made, boiling lasagna noodles that will soon form the layers of your meal.
Meat, pasta, meat, cheese...and then into the oven.
An hour later, you're slid out of the oven and placed in the center of the table.
"Thank you for being such a good provider, husband, and such a strong hunter. This one came extra hard, and I have a feeling her ground-up me is going to make the perfect lasagna. Enjoy."
She cuts a corner piece and places it on his plate. They share a kiss as he scoops a forkful of your flesh into his mouth, chews, and sits back in delight.
"Go ahead. Thank me."
Ella nods as she falls to her knees, pulls out Theron's cock, and begins to suck his dick while he dines on your lasagna. You're not only conquered as meat, but you're an accessory to their power exchange dynamic,, as he dines upon your flesh while thrusting his cock in his wives throat.
Most of you has already been packed in the freezer. Some of you spend is left out as Ellla plans to spend the rest of the night finding ways to mix your with other dishes to meal prep for the rest of the week.
********
[[Checkpoint: Thurs 4 PM, Barndomium ->Ragu]]"Well..." you say to the rather lean, tall, fit woman stretching her legs in the center of the room. "You look rather in shape. Are you a runner?"
"Do you mean for pleasure or for this sport?"
"Neither, really. I just wanted to give you a compliment. I'm Claire."
"Alex," she says, not breaking from her routine. "Yeah, obviously it's preferred by men around here to keep a little more meat on your bones, but I've never subscribed to that. I've learned that the leaner I keep myself, the less eyes I have on me for dinner. To be honest, a lot of men don't look at me at all, but the ones that do, well, since lean women are rare, they try extra hard to bag me."
"Well, you look really well suited for this type of thing."
"It's my fourth," she shares with a sly smile. "And I'd be willing to bet it's your first. Care for some advice?"
"It couldn't hurt." you say matter of factly.
"Great..." Alex says, walking in close as she scans the room to see if anyone else is listening. "There'll come a time where there will be a large clearing. It may seem like a very vulnerable spot, as you could get picked off in any direction. But it's not the worst place to hide because nobody looks there—it's just too obvious. There's some tall grass in that clearing that should hide you pretty well. Most of the men try to rush to the back of the grounds and work their way back to the front, so they skip right over it. They will probably even bag someone else before they look there."
"Got it. I really appreciate that. Will you be hiding there too?"
"Oh, of course not. I have my own strategy that I have to keep to myself. You understand, of course?"
"Yes, I suppose it really is every woman for herself."
"Here's hoping both of us make it to the other side in one piece." She says with a grin, as she continues stretching.
[[Find someone else to talk to. ->Staging Area]]
[[You're ready. Begin the hunt.->Begin Hunt]]You watch her draw her blade back, but remember that she's been leading with strikes. You feign defense toward your stomach, and, as expected, she unwraps your arm and tries to elbow you in the jaw. You're able to dodge, leaning your head back, and just as you're about to thrust your blade forward, you hesitate.
"Puma, wait, we can still find a way out of-ukkkkkkkk"
You feel Puma's blade driven directly into your belly button, ripping you Chanir from your hand and cutting your throat with it, your blood splashing out as you fall limp to the forest floor.
"All those years of training, and you didn't land a single blow. Pity. I expected more of you.”
You quietly bleed out in the Sleeping Willow forest, your last seconds crawling in the dirt as you gasp for air. The last thing you feel is Puma placing a knee in your back as she rubs her hand down your thigh, likely planning out her first of many meals.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
“Why would you do this?” Zoe says, her voice cracking between the tears that stream down her forehead as she watches the world that has so quickly turned upside down.
Puma loads wood into a roaring portable fireplace, where she will cook her first meal of you. Smoke rises from a large stainless-steel chimney attached to the back, and as she closes the door, the heat continues to rise.
“It isn’t a matter of choice. This was the way it always was between us.”
Puma walks over to a tree stump and eagerly places a large cut of your leg; your thick thigh wrapped tightly in butcher twine. She leaves some of your exposed femur on top to use as a handle.
"You set this whole thing up, didn't you? Just to eat her..." Zoe says through sniffles.
Puma applies a glaze of maple syrup, brown sugar, and honey to your meat before she wraps it tightly in aluminum foil. She then brings it over to the roaring fireplace and shoves your shank into the fire, closing the door behind her to let it cook.
She then returns to the tree stump and begins chopping herbs, spices, and small amounts of sauces that she had brought just for this occasion.
"I was able to solve who set this up, where Scarlett had not. She may have, if she had survived, but that was never what was most important."
Puma wanders around the campground. She picks up some berries, wild mushrooms, and wild onions from the land and places them on a tray. She also slices a fresh tomato and two potatoes to complete the platter on which your flesh will rest.
“What could be more important than life?" Zoe whimpers.
Puma reaches over to the fireplace and pulls out the aluminum foil that has wrapped your meat and brings it over to the platter. She gently removes the aluminum foil and places your fully cooked thigh onto the plate. Your flesh has become so tender from cooking inside the fireplace that as she holds you by the femur, your meat simply slides off. She sets the bone on the tree stump next to her knife as she pours herself some tea and prepares to eat.
"I had mistakenly thought that the forest had chosen her five years ago. But I did not understand the message. And now, everything is as it should be."
Your flesh is arranged on a platter with fresh berries and potatoes, complete with a sauce she has crafted from the ingredients local to her homeland. Puma does not share any more conversation with Zoe as she takes her time, forking your flesh into her mouth. She groans loudly and smiles, enjoying the fruits of her kill.
You're right leg is now her leg shank dinner cooked literally in flame, and served with your bone on the table. Puma finishes her meal by sucking the marrow out of your bone and leaning back in relief for the first time in five years.
*********************
[[Checkpoint: Friday PM, Sleeping Willow Forest ->Puma Battle Intro]]You take your time approaching the table and are more concerned that he doesn't do anything threatening than you would be if he did. There's something about him that shines with confidence, a self-assurance in whatever it is he's playing at.
*But who is he? And how does he know my real name?*
As you approach the table, he begins to come into focus. A generation older than you, with a muscular, trim physique that he shows off through a tight, button-down, short-sleeve shirt. He wears a collection of bones around his neck that you don't want to guess at—what, or who, they came from—and his dark hair is precisely arranged on his head, complemented by a five-o'clock shadow.
A terrified waitress brings over two coffees. She struggles to set them down without spilling them, her hand trembling as if her life literally depends on the service. You sit cautiously and swap the drinks.
"Oh, don't think so low of me to think I'd resort to such a petty trick. I AM going to kill you, of course."
He picks up his coffee and sips it.
"But not yet. I just wanted you to know in advance. And I wanted you to know you can't stop me."
You take a moment to peer over your shoulder, but Zoe is out of sight now.
"I know you're after the girl. Be patient. She'll be there. Or, she won't."
He leans forward.
"If I were you, I'd be focused on ME."
"All right. You've got my full attention," you say, leaning back and taking a sip of your coffee. "How do you know who I am?"
"Because you're a TROPHY, Scarlett, and possesing women like you is what I DO. I am known as Leikr - I specialize in interesting women, and I'm happy to tell you on this fine evening that I've decided to add YOU to my collection."
He grins.
"You should be honored."
"I'm not. I prefer being honored on my own merits, and not for how you'd have me presented."
"That's a fair point. To be honest, I haven't decided how I'm going to display you yet - there's so many options, really. On a plater. In a case. Skinned, stuffed, or mounted. It really just depends on how our climax goes."
"We won't be having a climax, unless you're referring to the moment your life ends." You say assertively, but with a hint of softness in your voice.
A softness that betrays you.
"You're already thinking about fucking me, aren't you?" He retorts eagery. "We can, before the end..."
He reaches a hand out to carass your thigh, but you pull it back.
"...when we meet again, it will be at time I have chosen to take you. And that will be it. As you can see, there are no choices in my scene. That's because you will have none when the time comes. You will think you will, but I'll have planned for every contingency. It will all end the same."
"If that's the case, our business is concluded," you say, finishing your coffee in one gulp before standing up. "Since you enjoy hearing how things are so much, let me give you a piece of advice."
"I'm listening."
"You shouldn't get too far ahead of yourself either, Leikr. I've killed more dangerous men than you, and you're the one who has a choice here."
"Oh?"
"You can still choose to fuck back off to whatever hole you came from and forget you ever thought of having me."
You slam your coffee glass down and head back to your hotel.
“Don't go and get yourself killed, Scarlett Sky,” Leikr yells as you walk away. “I'm very much looking forward to eating you.”
You don't look back or over your shoulder, as you know deep down that wouldn't be his play. You simply understand that this conflict is not over and that it will be something you'll have to resolve before you leave this place.
And yet, there's a part of you that can't help but feel somewhat...aroused... by a man like that. There's something about him that's intoxicating, hypnotic, masculine. If he wasn't trying to, you know, end your life, you just might...
*Get it together Scarlett, he's planning on killing, eating, and taxiderming you.*
You feel yourself get wet and you roll your eyes HARD.
****************************
As you re-enter the hotel, you take the elevator to Zoe's room and knock on the door.
"Leave me alone, Claire. Despite you calling me a friend, you're anything but," Zoe says through the door.
"That's fine. Can you just promise me you won't leave your room tonight? It's not safe."
"...Fine."
"Okay, I'm going to come get you in the morning. Please wait for me."
She doesn't answer, and you decide to go back to your room.
You stare out at the same view, of the same city, from the same hotel as five years ago. Despite all the work you've put in to keep unwilling women safe from your side of the world, this place is very much the same. You had thought going into this that you'd changed, and yet, you still have the very same desires as the women that come to your door, aching to be eaten.
As much as you crave to finally sign your own name, you don't. Too much responsibility, too many people to protect. You're just too gosh darn important.
But...if that ever changed, you wonder...
...would you?
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to - Tuesday AM ->Tuesday AM]]Your arms are firmly bound in front of you, and your ankles are tied, as you're unloaded from the back seat of the supply truck and marched into the large red barn that serves as the headquarters and slaughterhouse for Bouvier Farms. You're brought over to an older woman who is flipping through a clipboard. She looks in your direction, but never at you, as she sift through the clipboard, giving various orders to a farmhand until he walks away. As you're marched right up to her, she looks around the facility and pretends you aren't even there.
You notice that, with her weight, the thickness of her neck, and her hairstyle, she somewhat resembles a pig, although she is very clearly a woman. You decide to keep this observation to yourselfThere's no reason to bring any further harm upon yourself in such a grim place.
After several minutes of standing next to her, with neither of you speaking, you see her open her mouth, still not looking at you.
"Do you understand what you are?" she says, looking your body over and making notations on her clipboard.
"I'm just passing through. I'm here one moment and gone the next. It would be best to just let me go now, to save yourself the trouble of having to explain how you lost me later," you say confidently.
You haven't come this far to end up as a farm animal.
"Oh, don't you worry. You WILL be lost in this place, and you'll find that it's going to be you who will be passing through, from one existence to another..."
She turns to face you, her eyes looking past you as she traces a finger down your throat.
"...what is going to be gone soon enough is your voice. A sow's purpose is not to speak. It's to linger and wait for the inevitable. I am Mistress Everett, and I am looking forward to finding out what you enjoy and what you'll taste best with."
You hear the barn door creak behind you, and you turn to see a very obese, very absent-minded-looking woman—a sow—being led into the barn on her hands and knees. She smiles greedily at Mistress Everett and shakes her behind in excitement.
"There's nothing you can say or do to me to make me want to be livestock. So, as I said, you'll have to excuse me, as I won't be sticking around."
Mistress Everett lets out one soft laugh as she's handed a freshly baked, steaming-hot pie. She sets it down in front of the sow, who salivates and looks up eagerly. The Mistress nods, and the sow shoves her face into the pie to scarf it down.
"Oh, you'll be sticking around for exactly as long as I decide. And then, when you're plump enough, given us enough calves, and produced enough milk, well, then..."
One of the guards that captured you presses the metal butt of the rifle into the back of the sow’s skull. She does not stop eating, the peach filling smearing over her face, as she eagerly gobbles up the remains of the crust.
"You're been a very good girl, Peaches..." Mistress Everett says, bending down to give the sow a scratch behind the ear, before standing up and giving the guard a signal.
"...but it's time for you to fulfill your purpose."
You watch as a bullet rips through her skull, her blood soaking in the empty pie tin. Her heavy body stays on all fours for a moment, before it tumbles to the side with a thud. Two farm hands, completely undisturbed by the scene in front of them, casually slide over a hanging set of chains and attach them to Peaches' ankles.
You watch in shock as her lifeless body is lifted by a conveyor system and carried down some sort of disassembly line. She vanishes deeper into the slaughterhouse. At the other end, a delivery truck waits to transport her packaged meat to whoever will purchase and consume her.
"You don't have to waste my time telling me who you are. I already know you're part of that 'LFD' group. What do you call yourselves? Late for Dinner? But luckily for you, you're right on time..."
She reaches down and picks up Peaches collar, that had fallen off in her culling, and straps the bloody leather to your neck.
"...a new spot on our farm just opened up. You're going to lead a very pleasant, relaxing, meaningless existence here. The sooner you accept it; the sooner you will know a life of endless pleasure, not a moment of stress."
"I won't let you convert me," you say boldly, trying to force each word to be as strong as possible—a vow you hope to hold true.
"You know, I've had just about enough of that voice of yours. I think it's time you learned how to properly communicate with your Mistress from this moment on."
You feel yourself pulled by the two farm hands and bent over a barrel of hay. Your clothing is ripped off of you, leaving you naked, as Mistress Everett walks in front of your face. You hear a banging of heavy metal and turn your head around.
A red-hot branding iron is being marched in your direction, with the logo of Bouvier Farms on the imprint.
"Now. Sows do not speak. They moo. You will only moo from now on, or I will have to..."
Mistress Everett pulls a scalpel out of her pocket.
"...remove your ability to speak. It's your choice. Are you going to be a good sow and choose to moo for me?"
You feel an intense heat getting closer and you don't even have time to turn your head before you feel the iron scalding into your flesh, branding you. You try to bite your lip but you HAVE to scream out, but WHAT you scream is a choice you have to make.
[[Scream like a woman. Don't give her the satisfaction of degrading you by making a sow's sound. ->Voice slit]]
[[Scream out with a moo. It's bad enough you're being branded, you don't need your vocal cords cut, too. ->Breeding]]You make one final flail as you try to wrap your legs around his head, but he grabs your ankles and pins them behind your head, rendering you spread and helpless. Your pussy glistens as he thrusts into your cunt, immediately fucking you rough, deep, and raw. You grunt like an animal as he leans his forehead against yours, the only thing you can now see is his primal look of conquest, melting any remaining resistance you have.
Any resistance you’ll ever have, ever again.
“You know this is what you fucking cum to.” Leikr growls. “Go on. Let everyone hear it.”
“I…I…”
“Scream it out, bitch.” He says as he slaps you in the mouth, before holding both hands at your throat, his thrusting somehow intensifying.
“I...WANT TO BE EATEN! I WANT TO BE FUCKING CONQUERED. JUST…LIKE…THIS…!”
Leikr slaps you on the ass and spits on your face as you can feel his cock throbbing inside you, stretching you even wider as he mercilessly pounds you against the cement.
“MAKE ME YOUR FUCKING TROPHY. I WANT TO BE ON DISPLAY FOR YOU FOR FUCKING EVER!”
You scream out in orgasm as your brain goes quiet. Finally quiet.
The women watching on TV change the channel. The wife who had walked away from the spit sighs and walks back into the backyard, laying herself back on the picnic table. The purchased woman shrugs and marches herself up two stairs and into the boiling pot.
Hope dwindles away.
You hear the police yelling, and they charge at the LFD women you had done so much to lead to this spot. You watch through fuzzy vision as they're overtaken, beaten to surrender, and dragged off.
You don’t care. You are already Leikr’s trophy in your mind. And trophies do not think – they are for the use and pleasure of their owner.
You’re just hoping you can have one more orgasm before he snuffs you. Or two. Or three.
All you care about is cumming now.
"You're different than the women from here…” he says. “You're even hornier than they are. It gives me an idea."
You feel him flood your womb with his semen and you ready yourself for the inevitable end of your existence. But, curiously, it does not come. Leikr ties your wrists and ankles together, and then picks you up by the roots of your hair to bring you to your feet, his hot DNA running down your leg.
“Yes, it’s going to be marvelous. I’m going to make you a very special type of trophy. You’re going to be the centerpiece of my collection.”
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Leikr presses through double doors into a large dining hall that he had built on his property one year after the failed LFD takeover on Dolcett Day. He did not have to pay a dime, as the wealthy lined up for the opportunity to list their names as generous donors to the man who had saved their country.
"I'd like to thank everyone for coming to celebrate this marvelous occasion. One year ago today, our values were challenged—not only by women from our own country, but also by challengers from faraway lands trying to force their way of life on us."
There is some hissing in the crowd as Leikr pauses for effect.
"Ever since that day, I have worked to find a way to force something back on the very woman who nearly brought our country to its knees. You've heard the rumors about a special unveiling tonight, and I can promise you that what you are about to see will surpass all of your expectations."
The crowd goes silent, with every person sitting on the edge of their seat.
"Without further ado, allow me to present my ultimate trophy—one that lives and breathes, but most importantly, one that ACHES to be on display: Scarlett Sky!"
The crowd cheers as the same double doors open again, and you are marched out naked. A collar is wrapped tightly at your neck, with an engraving that says "Property of Leikr." There is nothing binding you to this place, and you could escape at any time.
It would just be a matter of you wanting a fate other than this.
As you slowly walk forward, the crowd points and gasps as your own wetness leaks down your leg, your body in a constant state of arousal. You only get halfway to Leikr before you moan quietly, the vibrator attached to your clit bringing you to orgasm as your legs quake. You don’t even try to hold back as you scream out and squirt all over the floor.
“Isn't she pathetic, folks?" Leikr remarks.
Everyone laughs as you slowly walk over to your new owner, kneeling down at his feet. As you do, Leikr whispers something in your ear and you scream out as another orgasm rips through your body.
“If you’d like to take a look at tonight’s menu, each item is based off a trigger word for my prized possession. Feel free to whisper one in her ear – each one makes her climax just a bit different than the other.” Leikr says with a wink.
The assembled guests as you stand completely broken forced into orgasm into orgasm for an entire year until there is nothing left of you but a mindless cum slut.
Lekir parades you around to each table as the diners tease you by forcing you to orgasm repeatedly for their amusement, your body aching from the pain of constant tension and release.
As you're marched around the room, you look up at a wall and see a set of familiar faces. You can't remember the names, but they invoke a feeling. At one point, long before you were turned into a living trophy of Leikr’s masculinity, you used to call these people your friends.
You shake your head and continue your humiliation march, as you’re unable to resolve who these people once wore. Looking back, stuffed and mounted on plaques, are Phoenix's and Puma's heads. They too have been reduced to being conversation pieces in Leikr’s vast collection.
****************
[[Checkpoint: Friday, City Center ->Duel One]]"Once a week, you turn the water [[scalding hot, dip your head under, and then scream out and pretend you're being boiled. Isn't that right? Well, my little lobster, it's [[time for your bath.
You quietly admit to yourself she's mostly right, although, there's just one part of the that has yet to be fulfilled. It doesn’t make sense, culinary wise, but it’s always how you imagine it would go.
Ever since your first week in Dolcett, you’ve struggled to have pleasure without mixing in the thought of a little pain. ->Lobster Break
She releases her hand, and you feel yourself falling into the [[boiling water.->Lobster Dinner]] Just as you're about to splash into the pot, you stretch out from claw to tail and are able to hold yourself by the lip of the pot, inches from death. You can feel your [[belly beginning to cook->Lobster Dinner]] as you struggle to stay out of the water.
"You REALLY just can't accept reality, can you?" Abutit says as she pulls a wooden spoon out of a drawer and presses it against your back. "Go on. [[Get in the pot. ->Lobster Dinner]] Boil. I'm going to [[soak your insides in butter->Lobster Dinner]] and eat you all up."
You feel your shell cooking, and one claw loosens as you nearly tumble into the pot.
*I won't give up... I'm not a lobster...[[this isn't real..->Biggest Fantasy]].*
Abutit stops pressing the spoon against your back, slides it up, and taps at your claws. A thought rushes into your mind, the same thought as earlier, and you try to push it away, back into your subconscious. But, you have a feeling it's already too late.
"Oh, I should've known. You need a little pain to be a part of your fantasy, don't you?"
She raises a hand and floats you off the top of the pot and back onto the cutting board. You feel yourself instinctively relax a bit as the intensity of nearly being boiled alive nearly broke your will. As you look up, you realize that your fears about hiding your thoughts were indeed too late.
Abutit taps a wooden mallet against her palm, loud enough that you can hear it cracking against her hand.
"You need to know without question that it's over for you to [[cook quietly,->Lobster Dinner]] don't you? You've fought SO long to stay alive that you need to feel your body break? Does that rush of pain cement it for you, or does it just get you off?"
She grabs you by the torso to pin you to the board and raises the mallet over one of your claws.
"You know, you aren't supposed to do this until [[after you're boiled.->Lobster Dinner]] But I'm going to make an exception for you so you can accept exactly what you are."She presses into your back as you hang on with a sharp grip.
“Oh, I see this isn’t working either. Well played.”
She lifts you back off the pot, and you’re placed on a large wooden cutting board.
“I have just the thing, though.”
You see her pick up a large wooden mallet. You look over and see that your hand is still a claw.
And you’re still a lobster.
You aren’t able to react as she slams the hammer down on your right claw, shattering it. The pain barely registers as she quickly moves to destroy your left claw.
You try to moan out in pain, but don't make a sound.
"Now, that's better. I didn't realize at first that defeat is part of your fantasy too, isn't it?"
You feel a sense of despair as you're hovered over the pot, the steam rising and cooking you from underneath while your broken claws reach out in vain for one last grasp at the stainless steel. You allow your arms to go limp. As you realize you will not escape, you submit yourself to what you hope will be a quick death as you boil alive.
You shouldn't have allowed yourself to succumb to this, as it isn't your greatest fantasy, but here you are, about to be boiled alive.
The witch seems to laugh on cue at your acceptance of the situation, and you can feel her magical grip on your body loosen.
"Enjoy your bath. You're going to be delicious."
You feel yourself fall into the water, and the intensity and heat of it overtake you. You immediately start to boil and cook alive—you feel your body shake in the heat as the pot suddenly becomes dark when the lid is slid on top. Abutit leaves you to cook, nothing more than a lobster to be served on a plate.
You see your shell start to turn bright red as you allow yourself to doze off, just as you have done so many times in the bathtub. But this time, you will not wake up. You'll be cracked open, served with butter, and picked clean, with your exoskeleton being the only thing remaining before you're thrown in the trash.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Just then, you wake back up. Somehow. You're in a dark place, and you can't see. You're floating, almost as if you don't exist, except for your consciousness.
"Where am I?" you say out loud into the strange void.
You hear chattering in the distance—voices. Almost like they're talking quietly to themselves and not to you. You swear you hear one of them say to just tell you. You hear another say it can wait. Another suggests playing a joke. Whatever is happening, it makes you very uncomfortable.
Suddenly, a clear voice speaks to you, to whatever is left of you, in this endless, absent, void-like place.
"I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you, but you're trapped here."
"Trapped?"
"When the witch eats people like she does, she doesn't just consume their flesh; she consumes their souls. We're all trapped here. Everyone that she's ever eaten is trapped inside of her body, a prisoner for as long as she lives."
"How long have you been here? How do we get out?"
"Oh, there's no time in this place. It feels like an eternity, and there's no escape. We're now a part of her forever. All of us. You might as well just get used to it."
You start to feel the essence of the others who have been consumed, who surround you. You can feel their empathy. But the one emotion you don't feel is hope, as they have accepted that for decades, centuries, or possibly millennia, they'll be trapped in this place forever.
*************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs AM, Mysterious Wood ->The Mysterious Wood]]You sigh loudly as you hold true to your morals and the lessons you've tried to impart on Zoe throughout your near week together in Dolcett.
"Zoe has a right to choose her own fate. We should honor her choice, whatever it is."
"I LOVE this suggestion. It's so romantic..." Charlene says, picking up her knife and spinning it by the hilt in her hand. "Yes, let's let our little sweet potato decide. Go on. Tell Scarlett you're going to leave her all alone to roast for my dinner."
Zoe looks at Charlene and then at you, her head bouncing back and forth, overwhelmed. She raises her fists up to her chest and then straightens her arms, a pout forming on her face.
"I WON'T leave you here alone, Scarlett. I'm going to be brave. I'm staying. So THERE."
"You know what?” Charlene quips. “I have JUST the thing for such an occasion."
Charlene rushes behind her and begins to rummage through the various books she has on her kitchen countertop.
Zoe looks down.
"Scarlett... We really have to get out of here..."
"You have to go, Zoe. You have a life outside of this... Mine is here..."
“There's more to you than that. Don't you remember that?”
"Here it is!" Charlene proclaims excitedly as she blows the dust off an old cookbook.
Charlene walks over with a big smile, sets the book down next to your pan, and begins to turn the pages.
"I know it's in here somewhere. Gosh, it's such an exciting time. I haven't made this recipe in SO long, but you two are just two peas in a pod. You're thick as thieves. Actually, it's right here –e xactly what you're going to be.
"Twin. Cornish. Hens."
"I don't want to be a Cornish hen... honest," Zoe says softly.
Charlene walks over to Zoe, standing tall over her, and raises two fingers to her lips.
"Now now. Dishonesty is such an ugly color on you.” Charlene says, her hand wandering down Zoe’s side. “You’ve been in Dolcett for nearly a week. I’m sure you’ve felt it. The temptation. The urges. Look me in the eye and tell me that you haven't thought just a tiny bit about being eaten, my delectable little bird."
"I..."
"Zoe, don't answer her...!" you plead.
"Only a tiny bit... I've only really wondered what I would tas—"
Charlene's two fingers slip under Zoe’s dress and directly into Zoe's wet, innocent pussy. Zoe yelps out and immediately goes limp in Charlene’s arms.
"NO...!" you scream out.
"That's right. Go to sleep, and I'm going to let you roast next to your new friend. It's going to be quite the feast. I'm going to be so, so full in the next few months that I might practically burst with joy. And, of course, burst with your delicious flesh.”
Charlene looks eagerly at Jenna as you are bound and helpless, able only to watch.
"Jenna, fetch me another pan. We're roasting TWO tonight."
“Right away, Mistress.”
You shake in your pan as Zoe's dress is cut off and her body is lifted into a pan that is set right next to yours. You notice her entire body is limp, except for her left hand, just adjacent yours, which is balled like a fist.
Charlene's fingers continue their work, kneading inside Zoe, breaking through wall after wall of resistance. When Zoe finally orgasms, she sits straight up, and has to be led down by the neck back into her pan, the metal clasping over her throat just as she laid on her back.
"I've... never... done that... with a partner before." Zoe says through gasping breaths, her eyes soaked in pleasure.
"Oh, you poor thing. How absolutely tragic. And you were due to be married? It sounds like I have done you quite a favor.
"
Charlene sucks her fingers clean as Jenna works to marinate, garnish, and season Zoe. She lines up her fingers with your cunt and reaches for her knife, but hesitates.
"You know, I'm going to let you go in the oven with your friend alive. I'd like to watch your last moments together through the little window. It'll be QUITE the show.”
You look over at Zoe, her face enraptured, her soul lost in lust for the oven.
"Okay, the girl is ready, Mistress," Jenna says, slapping Zoe on the ass.
Jenna then scoops up your tray of potatoes and vegetables and again begins to spread them underneath you. One by one, you and Zoe are loaded onto rolling carts, and brought over to the waiting oven. When it open, the heat blasts out, calling for you to slide inside and finally be roasted alive.
"I'm afraid this is goodbye, Scarlett. The next time I see you, it'll be on a platter. Any last words?"
[[Tell Charlene you don't consent to being roasted, and she’s never broken you. ->Finally Fingered]]
[[Try and convince her that she’s broken you, so she lets her guard down. Then rock the pan over and break it open – and escape. ->Ending Grade E]]
[if hasChar]
[[Item Choice: Your last mindbreak gave you insight into Charlene's motivations, too. She NEEDS to hear your consent to have true power over you -tell her you don't.->Finally Fingered]]hasWoodItem: false
--
"I ignore it. I lock it all deep inside of me and I never, ever address it. And I absolutely never play with others, it's too dangerous."
"I don't entirely believe you, but..."
Phoenix steps back, disheartened.
"I respect your right to choose to not play with me. But, would you be willing to lay with me for a while? I just...need a break from my own thoughts."
"Alright."
***************************
Phoenix takes a drag of her vape and offers you a hit, but you pass. You stare up at the ceiling in and wonder.
"How did you come to be in the Subjegation Auction five years ago?" You ask. "You're so smart that I can't imagine you'd get caught up accidently breaking a rule in Dolcett."
"You're very kind, but I wasn't always this way." Phoenix says with a sigh. "Let's just say the rule I broke wasn't an accident."
"Say more."
"Does it matter?"
"Shouldn't it?"
Phoenix takes a long draw from her vape.
"I...well, I..."
"Go on."
"I've always been like, I guess you'd call a tomboy. I never liked dresses, I don't like girly things as a child. My parents tried to steer me towards being pleasing and obedient, and told me if I didn't find a nice man to claim me as his wife, I'd probably be snuffed and sold at a grocery store by the time I was 30." Phoenix says, a smile growing on her face. "I didn't care. I just wanted to do things my way, you know, be different...but then, I met him."
"Him?"
"My parents set it up. He was SO much older than me. A real traditionalist, a firm hand, he had wives before, which didn't seem to bother my parents."
Phoenix takes another long hit of her vape.
"He was so different than all the other men, I'd ever met. He really listened to me, he seemed to care about my dreams, the types of dreams women aren't allowed to have here.
Phoenix sighs.
"I even told him my dream was to run for political office, you know, be the first elected woman in Dolcett. He never laughed at me. He even told me he'd help me, that he had rich, powerful friends that could get me started. He really made me feel..."
"You fell in love with him."
"...I fell for it. alright." Phoenix says, her smile from earlier evaporated. "The minute I took his collar, he completely changed. On our wedding day, he told me my opinions were stupid and my place was on my knees waiting for him to come home. He told me...he took pleasure in breaking opinionated, independent women, and he had taken me on to be his next personal project."
"I can't imagine how that went, knowing how strong you are."
"It went as you'd expect. The same night he told me he swore his undying love for me in front of my family, he whipped me with his belt. He said he had to break me of the idea that I women were capable of anything beyond submission to a man."
"So. You ran away...and got yourself caught on purpose? To escape?"
Phoenix laughs.
"Caught on purpose, yes. Ran away...not exactly." Phoenix takes a drag of her vape, letting the vapor linger in her mouth before contuniing, her expression lifeless.
"I knew the minute he truly broke my will, and I accepted my cage, he'd get bored and kill me. So, I did what any proper Dolcett girl would do - I got dressed up in the clothes he picked out for me, strapped on six inch heels, and made him his favorite meal - top girl loin steak and smashed potatoes. You should've SEEN the look on his face as I served his plate, Scarlett, he was so smug. So confident. So convinced he'd broken me.
You don't respond, but quietly nod, for a moment.
"He was also SO wrong. I remember every little microexpression he made as he started to choke. I can hear the sound of him aspirating as the poison burned a whole in his esophagus. The way he tumbled backwards in his chair. And..."
Phoenix takes a deep breath, her eyes vacant as she twirls her vape between her fingers.
"...and when the shock set in, when I really knew he was going to die, I smiled. I smiled for the first time in months. I took my collar off and threw it on his heaving chest and I made sure the last thing he ever heard was - 'I guess women are capable of a lot more than you think.'"
Phoenix looks over at you.
"You sure you still want to be my friend after all that?"
You think a moment before answering.
"I think philosophers have debated the morality of your situation for millenia, so I won't be the one to pass judgment on you. What's the right answer in a world full of wrong ones?" You explore aloud. "But, wouldn't you have just been arrested and not Subugated?"
"Yes, that is how it should've went, but I had it all planned out - I killed him at dinner on Wednesday night, finished what I thought would be my last meal, hid his body in the closet, and headed into town."
"So, you thought that by the time they found out what happened, you'd be..."
"...dead. Eaten, really, especially being Subujgated on Dolcett Day weekend, I'd be long roasted by the time they'd found out why he'd stopped showing up to work. And to be honest, I was fine with that, I had accepted that my punishment should be an eye for an eye. But then, I met you, in that room that signified my life had ended, I met someone who inspired me that my life had only just begun."
Phoenix places a hand on your head, brushing your hair behind your ear.
"I had never met a woman who really believed that life for us could be better, and I was just inspired to live. I decided right then and there that if I could find a way to escape from whoever bought me, my penace would be to dedicate every moment of my life to making life better for women, whatever the cost."
"I'm not sure if I've made life better or not." you admit. "I thought I'd done so much before I came here - being the gatekeeper that prevented unwilling women from being sent to Dolcett. But, there's so many innocent women here, and all I've done is sent women who had the same urgings as I deny to their death."
"It would appear we have that in common, then." Phoenix comforts. "The urges, the authority role, and sending women to their death. It's a heavy burden."
"I still remember them." You continue. "I remember every single one of them that I approved -their lustful expression, how grateful they were to me, their excitement at being able to fulfill their greatest fantasy. You'd think this would be a proud moment for me, as it's what I'd dedicated my life to, and yet..."
"...you feel the guilt." Phoenix finishes.
"Yes. For their loss of life. For what I could've, should've done? But mostly, for my own hypocrisy. I sit in my fancy chair and stamp their paper like I'm some kind of wise overseer, someone qualified to make a determination on literal life and death. But all I think about, every time I approve a visa, is what my own name would look like on that paper.
"How close have you ever come? To submitting to your urges?"
"Well, the last time I was here, there was this woman..."
"I thought you said you didn't like women."
"There's something about her, Seductive, transfixing, intoxicating. It was less about who she was and how she looked but how she moved, how she was able with words and a touch to command people. I noticed that even as we were talking, her hands danced across my body, and that she was constantly trying to get inside of me."
"Hot." Phoenix whispers.
"I saw later that any woman she ever got her fingers inside, she was able to control them like a puppet. She was so skillfull in the art of lust that even one touch would break them entirely and make them obedient to her forever, a drone aching for it's next release."
"Hotter." Phoenix says as her hips grind against you.
"I realized that if she ever got her fingers inside of me, I would have the greatest orgasm of my life, and then, there would be no going back - I'd be dinner. She was intent on roasting me in an oven, alive, and I've just...even though she never was able to touch me there, I..."
"Can't get the image out of your head?"
"Never. I fantasize about it all the time, just giving in to her. There's something simple about it - I'd be giving in just enough to let her rip the control I've struggled with away from me. There's a part of me that just wants to show up at her doorstep with an apple in my mouth and lay down on her platter."
"Who is she? Your famous bodyguard?"
There's some noise in the foyer.
"Oh. The women are waking." Phoenix says. I can't let them see us like this. It's best you leave now, out the back. You'll have to tell me the rest another time."
"Thanks Phoenix. For everything."
"No, Scarlett, thank you. You made ALL of this possible. Without you, there would be no Ladies for Dolcett. And, there won't be a LFD past Friday if you don't come back. So, please, do what you do best, defy the odds, save your friend, and let's save this world together. For all of the innocent women in Dolcett."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Thurs AM, Mysterious Wood ->The Mysterious Wood]]hasWoodItem: false
--
"I fantasize about...about..."
Phoenix begins to kiss your neck, softly, her lips lingering as if she's tasting your flesh anew each time.
"...being...spitted alive..."
"Oh, a bit of a pain slut, are we? That's very kinky."
"Yes...I want the flames to...dance...over my..."
As Phoenix's kisses go down your neck, you grab her by the roots of her hair and hold it into your chest.
"I'm sorry...I really can't do this..."
Phoenix slumps over on the bed next to you, disheartened.
"Alright, Scarlett. I respect your right to choose to end our gamee. But, would you be willing to lay with me for a while? I just...need a break from my own thoughts."
***************************
Phoenix takes a drag of her vape and offers you a hit, but you pass. You stare up at the ceiling in and wonder.
"How did you come to be in the Subjegation Auction five years ago?" You ask. "You're so smart that I can't imagine you'd get caught up accidently breaking a rule in Dolcett."
"You're very kind, but I wasn't always this way." Phoenix says with a sigh. "Let's just say the rule I broke wasn't an accident."
"Say more."
"Does it matter?"
"Shouldn't it?"
Phoenix takes a long draw from her vape.
"I...well, I..."
"Go on."
"I've always been like, I guess you'd call a tomboy. I never liked dresses, I don't like girly things as a child. My parents tried to steer me towards being pleasing and obedient, and told me if I didn't find a nice man to claim me as his wife, I'd probably be snuffed and sold at a grocery store by the time I was 30." Phoenix says, a smile growing on her face. "I didn't care. I just wanted to do things my way, you know, be different...but then, I met him."
"Him?"
"My parents set it up. He was SO much older than me. A real traditionalist, a firm hand, he had wives before, which didn't seem to bother my parents."
Phoenix takes another long hit of her vape.
"He was so different than all the other men, I'd ever met. He really listened to me, he seemed to care about my dreams, the types of dreams women aren't allowed to have here.
Phoenix sighs.
"I even told him my dream was to run for political office, you know, be the first elected woman in Dolcett. He never laughed at me. He even told me he'd help me, that he had rich, powerful friends that could get me started. He really made me feel..."
"You fell in love with him."
"...I fell for it. alright." Phoenix says, her smile from earlier evaporated. "The minute I took his collar, he completely changed. On our wedding day, he told me my opinions were stupid and my place was on my knees waiting for him to come home. He told me...he took pleasure in breaking opinionated, independent women, and he had taken me on to be his next personal project."
"I can't imagine how that went, knowing how strong you are."
"It went as you'd expect. The same night he told me he swore his undying love for me in front of my family, he whipped me with his belt. He said he had to break me of the idea that I women were capable of anything beyond submission to a man."
"So. You ran away...and got yourself caught on purpose? To escape?"
Phoenix laughs.
"Caught on purpose, yes. Ran away...not exactly." Phoenix takes a drag of her vape, letting the vapor linger in her mouth before contuniing, her expression lifeless.
"I knew the minute he truly broke my will, and I accepted my cage, he'd get bored and kill me. So, I did what any proper Dolcett girl would do - I got dressed up in the clothes he picked out for me, strapped on six inch heels, and made him his favorite meal - top girl loin steak and smashed potatoes. You should've SEEN the look on his face as I served his plate, Scarlett, he was so smug. So confident. So convinced he'd broken me.
You don't respond, but quietly nod, for a moment.
"He was also SO wrong. I remember every little microexpression he made as he started to choke. I can hear the sound of him aspirating as the poison burned a whole in his esophagus. The way he tumbled backwards in his chair. And..."
Phoenix takes a deep breath, her eyes vacant as she twirls her vape between her fingers.
"...and when the shock set in, when I really knew he was going to die, I smiled. I smiled for the first time in months. I took my collar off and threw it on his heaving chest and I made sure the last thing he ever heard was - 'I guess women are capable of a lot more than you think.'"
Phoenix looks over at you.
"You sure you still want to be my friend after all that?"
You think a moment before answering.
"I think philosophers have debated the morality of your situation for millenia, so I won't be the one to pass judgment on you. What's the right answer in a world full of wrong ones?" You explore aloud. "But, wouldn't you have just been arrested and not Subugated?"
"Yes, that is how it should've went, but I had it all planned out - I killed him at dinner on Wednesday night, finished what I thought would be my last meal, hid his body in the closet, and headed into town."
"So, you thought that by the time they found out what happened, you'd be..."
"...dead. Eaten, really, especially being Subujgated on Dolcett Day weekend, I'd be long roasted by the time they'd found out why he'd stopped showing up to work. And to be honest, I was fine with that, I had accepted that my punishment should be an eye for an eye. But then, I met you, in that room that signified my life had ended, I met someone who inspired me that my life had only just begun."
Phoenix places a hand on your head, brushing your hair behind your ear.
"I had never met a woman who really believed that life for us could be better, and I was just inspired to live. I decided right then and there that if I could find a way to escape from whoever bought me, my penace would be to dedicate every moment of my life to making life better for women, whatever the cost."
"I'm not sure if I've made life better or not." you admit. "I thought I'd done so much before I came here - being the gatekeeper that prevented unwilling women from being sent to Dolcett. But, there's so many innocent women here, and all I've done is sent women who had the same urgings as I deny to their death."
"It would appear we have that in common, then." Phoenix comforts. "The urges, the authority role, and sending women to their death. It's a heavy burden."
"I still remember them." You continue. "I remember every single one of them that I approved -their lustful expression, how grateful they were to me, their excitement at being able to fulfill their greatest fantasy. You'd think this would be a proud moment for me, as it's what I'd dedicated my life to, and yet..."
"...you feel the guilt." Phoenix finishes.
"Yes. For their loss of life. For what I could've, should've done? But mostly, for my own hypocrisy. I sit in my fancy chair and stamp their paper like I'm some kind of wise overseer, someone qualified to make a determination on literal life and death. But all I think about, every time I approve a visa, is what my own name would look like on that paper.
"How close have you ever come? To submitting to your urges?"
"Well, the last time I was here, there was this woman..."
"I thought you said you didn't like women."
"There's something about her, Seductive, transfixing, intoxicating. It was less about who she was and how she looked but how she moved, how she was able with words and a touch to command people. I noticed that even as we were talking, her hands danced across my body, and that she was constantly trying to get inside of me."
"Hot." Phoenix whispers.
"I saw later that any woman she ever got her fingers inside, she was able to control them like a puppet. She was so skillfull in the art of lust that even one touch would break them entirely and make them obedient to her forever, a drone aching for it's next release."
"Hotter." Phoenix says as her hips grind against you.
"I realized that if she ever got her fingers inside of me, I would have the greatest orgasm of my life, and then, there would be no going back - I'd be dinner. She was intent on roasting me in an oven, alive, and I've just...even though she never was able to touch me there, I..."
"Can't get the image out of your head?"
"Never. I fantasize about it all the time, just giving in to her. There's something simple about it - I'd be giving in just enough to let her rip the control I've struggled with away from me. There's a part of me that just wants to show up at her doorstep with an apple in my mouth and lay down on her platter."
"Who is she? Your famous bodyguard?"
There's some noise in the foyer.
"Oh. The women are waking." Phoenix says. I can't let them see us like this. It's best you leave now, out the back. You'll have to tell me the rest another time."
"Thanks Phoenix. For everything."
"No, Scarlett, thank you. You made ALL of this possible. Without you, there would be no Ladies for Dolcett. And, there won't be a LFD past Friday if you don't come back. So, please, do what you do best, defy the odds, save your friend, and let's save this world together. For all of the innocent women in Dolcett."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Thurs AM, Mysterious Wood ->The Mysterious Wood]]hasWoodItem: false
--
"There was a young receptionist at my hotel...barely twenty..."
"Oh, Cougar Sky, you bad girl. You want him to eat you?" Phoenix says as she presses her lips firmly against your mound, her focusing her tongue on your clit, providing pressured, slow strokes.
"He...was fascinated with my ass. I think he wanted to roast it full, stick a pineapple in it, turn me into a traditional ham dinner..."
"That's hot-"
You rest your hand on the back of Phoenix's head, eager to press to indicate you want a little more firmness.
"No...I don't even like...ham..."
You feel the orgasm slipping away from you, slowly, as you come back to reality. Phoenix continues to work with her rthyhm, but she too can feel that the music has been lost.
She crawls up and lays besides you.
"That was really good, thank you." you whisper.
"Couldn't get you there, but I did get a taste. And you sure all delicious, Scarlett."
***************************
Phoenix takes a drag of her vape and offers you a hit, but you pass. You stare up at the ceiling in and wonder.
"How did you come to be in the Subjegation Auction five years ago?" You ask. "You're so smart that I can't imagine you'd get caught up accidently breaking a rule in Dolcett."
"You're very kind, but I wasn't always this way." Phoenix says with a sigh. "Let's just say the rule I broke wasn't an accident."
"Say more."
"Does it matter?"
"Shouldn't it?"
Phoenix takes a long draw from her vape.
"I...well, I..."
"Go on."
"I've always been like, I guess you'd call a tomboy. I never liked dresses, I don't like girly things as a child. My parents tried to steer me towards being pleasing and obedient, and told me if I didn't find a nice man to claim me as his wife, I'd probably be snuffed and sold at a grocery store by the time I was 30." Phoenix says, a smile growing on her face. "I didn't care. I just wanted to do things my way, you know, be different...but then, I met him."
"Him?"
"My parents set it up. He was SO much older than me. A real traditionalist, a firm hand, he had wives before, which didn't seem to bother my parents."
Phoenix takes another long hit of her vape.
"He was so different than all the other men, I'd ever met. He really listened to me, he seemed to care about my dreams, the types of dreams women aren't allowed to have here.
Phoenix sighs.
"I even told him my dream was to run for political office, you know, be the first elected woman in Dolcett. He never laughed at me. He even told me he'd help me, that he had rich, powerful friends that could get me started. He really made me feel..."
"You fell in love with him."
"...I fell for it. alright." Phoenix says, her smile from earlier evaporated. "The minute I took his collar, he completely changed. On our wedding day, he told me my opinions were stupid and my place was on my knees waiting for him to come home. He told me...he took pleasure in breaking opinionated, independent women, and he had taken me on to be his next personal project."
"I can't imagine how that went, knowing how strong you are."
"It went as you'd expect. The same night he told me he swore his undying love for me in front of my family, he whipped me with his belt. He said he had to break me of the idea that I women were capable of anything beyond submission to a man."
"So. You ran away...and got yourself caught on purpose? To escape?"
Phoenix laughs.
"Caught on purpose, yes. Ran away...not exactly." Phoenix takes a drag of her vape, letting the vapor linger in her mouth before contuniing, her expression lifeless.
"I knew the minute he truly broke my will, and I accepted my cage, he'd get bored and kill me. So, I did what any proper Dolcett girl would do - I got dressed up in the clothes he picked out for me, strapped on six inch heels, and made him his favorite meal - top girl loin steak and smashed potatoes. You should've SEEN the look on his face as I served his plate, Scarlett, he was so smug. So confident. So convinced he'd broken me.
You don't respond, but quietly nod, for a moment.
"He was also SO wrong. I remember every little microexpression he made as he started to choke. I can hear the sound of him aspirating as the poison burned a whole in his esophagus. The way he tumbled backwards in his chair. And..."
Phoenix takes a deep breath, her eyes vacant as she twirls her vape between her fingers.
"...and when the shock set in, when I really knew he was going to die, I smiled. I smiled for the first time in months. I took my collar off and threw it on his heaving chest and I made sure the last thing he ever heard was - 'I guess women are capable of a lot more than you think.'"
Phoenix looks over at you.
"You sure you still want to be my friend after all that?"
You think a moment before answering.
"I think philosophers have debated the morality of your situation for millenia, so I won't be the one to pass judgment on you. What's the right answer in a world full of wrong ones?" You explore aloud. "But, wouldn't you have just been arrested and not Subugated?"
"Yes, that is how it should've went, but I had it all planned out - I killed him at dinner on Wednesday night, finished what I thought would be my last meal, hid his body in the closet, and headed into town."
"So, you thought that by the time they found out what happened, you'd be..."
"...dead. Eaten, really, especially being Subujgated on Dolcett Day weekend, I'd be long roasted by the time they'd found out why he'd stopped showing up to work. And to be honest, I was fine with that, I had accepted that my punishment should be an eye for an eye. But then, I met you, in that room that signified my life had ended, I met someone who inspired me that my life had only just begun."
Phoenix places a hand on your head, brushing your hair behind your ear.
"I had never met a woman who really believed that life for us could be better, and I was just inspired to live. I decided right then and there that if I could find a way to escape from whoever bought me, my penace would be to dedicate every moment of my life to making life better for women, whatever the cost."
"I'm not sure if I've made life better or not." you admit. "I thought I'd done so much before I came here - being the gatekeeper that prevented unwilling women from being sent to Dolcett. But, there's so many innocent women here, and all I've done is sent women who had the same urgings as I deny to their death."
"It would appear we have that in common, then." Phoenix comforts. "The urges, the authority role, and sending women to their death. It's a heavy burden."
"I still remember them." You continue. "I remember every single one of them that I approved -their lustful expression, how grateful they were to me, their excitement at being able to fulfill their greatest fantasy. You'd think this would be a proud moment for me, as it's what I'd dedicated my life to, and yet..."
"...you feel the guilt." Phoenix finishes.
"Yes. For their loss of life. For what I could've, should've done? But mostly, for my own hypocrisy. I sit in my fancy chair and stamp their paper like I'm some kind of wise overseer, someone qualified to make a determination on literal life and death. But all I think about, every time I approve a visa, is what my own name would look like on that paper.
"How close have you ever come? To submitting to your urges?"
"Well, the last time I was here, there was this woman..."
"I thought you said you didn't like women."
"There's something about her, Seductive, transfixing, intoxicating. It was less about who she was and how she looked but how she moved, how she was able with words and a touch to command people. I noticed that even as we were talking, her hands danced across my body, and that she was constantly trying to get inside of me."
"Hot." Phoenix whispers.
"I saw later that any woman she ever got her fingers inside, she was able to control them like a puppet. She was so skillfull in the art of lust that even one touch would break them entirely and make them obedient to her forever, a drone aching for it's next release."
"Hotter." Phoenix says as her hips grind against you.
"I realized that if she ever got her fingers inside of me, I would have the greatest orgasm of my life, and then, there would be no going back - I'd be dinner. She was intent on roasting me in an oven, alive, and I've just...even though she never was able to touch me there, I..."
"Can't get the image out of your head?"
"Never. I fantasize about it all the time, just giving in to her. There's something simple about it - I'd be giving in just enough to let her rip the control I've struggled with away from me. There's a part of me that just wants to show up at her doorstep with an apple in my mouth and lay down on her platter."
"Who is she? Your famous bodyguard?"
There's some noise in the foyer.
"Oh. The women are waking." Phoenix says. I can't let them see us like this. It's best you leave now, out the back. You'll have to tell me the rest another time."
"Thanks Phoenix. For everything."
"No, Scarlett, thank you. You made ALL of this possible. Without you, there would be no Ladies for Dolcett. And, there won't be a LFD past Friday if you don't come back. So, please, do what you do best, defy the odds, save your friend, and let's save this world together. For all of the innocent women in Dolcett."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Thurs AM, Mysterious Wood ->The Mysterious Wood]]hasWoodItem: false
--
"Yes, I just want to be a meal on a plate. Free of stress...and pain...and responsibility.."
Phoenix goes to speak but you shove her head in place, your legs beginning to quake as you can feel the orgasm coming.
“I got really wet when I watched the Baron eat that sow's cunted. I wanted it to be...”
Phoenix pulls your hand away from her head for a moment to speak.
“You bad girl. You wanted to be the Baron's cuntsteak dinner, didn't you?”
“Yes...I...wanted...I really wanted..."
Phoenix continues the steady rhythm of her thrusting hand, the curl in her fingertips, and the intense pressure on your mound, her tongue licking from underneath.
Just as you're about to orgasm, you feel an uneasiness in your stomach. The Baron did not turn you on, he turned you very off. He was the antithesis of sexuality - trying to reduce a woman's life to nothingness besides her value on a plate.
You feel the quaking orgasm flutter away, just before it erupts, and you lay in frustration on the bed.
Phoenix crawls up and lays besides you, gasping for air in between licking her fingers.
"That was REALLY good, thank you." you whisper.
"You were really close, Scarlett. But, it's okay. I can tell you enjoyed yourself almost as much as I did. You okay?"
"Yeah, I just...I always have some type of hangover after I masturbate to this fetish."
"Same." Phoenix says as she takes a drag of her vape and offers you a hit, but you pass. You stare up at the ceiling in and wonder.
"How did you come to be in the Subjegation Auction five years ago?" You ask. "You're so smart that I can't imagine you'd get caught up accidently breaking a rule in Dolcett."
"You're very kind, but I wasn't always this way." Phoenix says with a sigh. "Let's just say the rule I broke wasn't an accident."
"Say more."
"Does it matter?"
"Shouldn't it?"
Phoenix takes a long draw from her vape.
"I...well, I..."
"Go on."
"I've always been like, I guess you'd call a tomboy. I never liked dresses, I don't like girly things as a child. My parents tried to steer me towards being pleasing and obedient, and told me if I didn't find a nice man to claim me as his wife, I'd probably be snuffed and sold at a grocery store by the time I was 30." Phoenix says, a smile growing on her face. "I didn't care. I just wanted to do things my way, you know, be different...but then, I met him."
"Him?"
"My parents set it up. He was SO much older than me. A real traditionalist, a firm hand, he had wives before, which didn't seem to bother my parents."
Phoenix takes another long hit of her vape.
"He was so different than all the other men, I'd ever met. He really listened to me, he seemed to care about my dreams, the types of dreams women aren't allowed to have here.
Phoenix sighs.
"I even told him my dream was to run for political office, you know, be the first elected woman in Dolcett. He never laughed at me. He even told me he'd help me, that he had rich, powerful friends that could get me started. He really made me feel..."
"You fell in love with him."
"...I fell for it. alright." Phoenix says, her smile from earlier evaporated. "The minute I took his collar, he completely changed. On our wedding day, he told me my opinions were stupid and my place was on my knees waiting for him to come home. He told me...he took pleasure in breaking opinionated, independent women, and he had taken me on to be his next personal project."
"I can't imagine how that went, knowing how strong you are."
"It went as you'd expect. The same night he told me he swore his undying love for me in front of my family, he whipped me with his belt. He said he had to break me of the idea that I women were capable of anything beyond submission to a man."
"So. You ran away...and got yourself caught on purpose? To escape?"
Phoenix laughs.
"Caught on purpose, yes. Ran away...not exactly." Phoenix takes a drag of her vape, letting the vapor linger in her mouth before contuniing, her expression lifeless.
"I knew the minute he truly broke my will, and I accepted my cage, he'd get bored and kill me. So, I did what any proper Dolcett girl would do - I got dressed up in the clothes he picked out for me, strapped on six inch heels, and made him his favorite meal - top girl loin steak and smashed potatoes. You should've SEEN the look on his face as I served his plate, Scarlett, he was so smug. So confident. So convinced he'd broken me.
You don't respond, but quietly nod, for a moment.
"He was also SO wrong. I remember every little microexpression he made as he started to choke. I can hear the sound of him aspirating as the poison burned a whole in his esophagus. The way he tumbled backwards in his chair. And..."
Phoenix takes a deep breath, her eyes vacant as she twirls her vape between her fingers.
"...and when the shock set in, when I really knew he was going to die, I smiled. I smiled for the first time in months. I took my collar off and threw it on his heaving chest and I made sure the last thing he ever heard was - 'I guess women are capable of a lot more than you think.'"
Phoenix looks over at you.
"You sure you still want to be my friend after all that?"
You think a moment before answering.
"I think philosophers have debated the morality of your situation for millenia, so I won't be the one to pass judgment on you. What's the right answer in a world full of wrong ones?" You explore aloud. "But, wouldn't you have just been arrested and not Subugated?"
"Yes, that is how it should've went, but I had it all planned out - I killed him at dinner on Wednesday night, finished what I thought would be my last meal, hid his body in the closet, and headed into town."
"So, you thought that by the time they found out what happened, you'd be..."
"...dead. Eaten, really, especially being Subujgated on Dolcett Day weekend, I'd be long roasted by the time they'd found out why he'd stopped showing up to work. And to be honest, I was fine with that, I had accepted that my punishment should be an eye for an eye. But then, I met you, in that room that signified my life had ended, I met someone who inspired me that my life had only just begun."
Phoenix places a hand on your head, brushing your hair behind your ear.
"I had never met a woman who really believed that life for us could be better, and I was just inspired to live. I decided right then and there that if I could find a way to escape from whoever bought me, my penace would be to dedicate every moment of my life to making life better for women, whatever the cost."
"I'm not sure if I've made life better or not." you admit. "I thought I'd done so much before I came here - being the gatekeeper that prevented unwilling women from being sent to Dolcett. But, there's so many innocent women here, and all I've done is sent women who had the same urgings as I deny to their death."
"It would appear we have that in common, then." Phoenix comforts. "The urges, the authority role, and sending women to their death. It's a heavy burden."
"I still remember them." You continue. "I remember every single one of them that I approved -their lustful expression, how grateful they were to me, their excitement at being able to fulfill their greatest fantasy. You'd think this would be a proud moment for me, as it's what I'd dedicated my life to, and yet..."
"...you feel the guilt." Phoenix finishes.
"Yes. For their loss of life. For what I could've, should've done? But mostly, for my own hypocrisy. I sit in my fancy chair and stamp their paper like I'm some kind of wise overseer, someone qualified to make a determination on literal life and death. But all I think about, every time I approve a visa, is what my own name would look like on that paper.
"How close have you ever come? To submitting to your urges?"
"Well, the last time I was here, there was this woman..."
"I thought you said you didn't like women."
"There's something about her, Seductive, transfixing, intoxicating. It was less about who she was and how she looked but how she moved, how she was able with words and a touch to command people. I noticed that even as we were talking, her hands danced across my body, and that she was constantly trying to get inside of me."
"Hot." Phoenix whispers.
"I saw later that any woman she ever got her fingers inside, she was able to control them like a puppet. She was so skillfull in the art of lust that even one touch would break them entirely and make them obedient to her forever, a drone aching for it's next release."
"Hotter." Phoenix says as her hips grind against you.
"I realized that if she ever got her fingers inside of me, I would have the greatest orgasm of my life, and then, there would be no going back - I'd be dinner. She was intent on roasting me in an oven, alive, and I've just...even though she never was able to touch me there, I..."
"Can't get the image out of your head?"
"Never. I fantasize about it all the time, just giving in to her. There's something simple about it - I'd be giving in just enough to let her rip the control I've struggled with away from me. There's a part of me that just wants to show up at her doorstep with an apple in my mouth and lay down on her platter."
"Who is she? Your famous bodyguard?"
There's some noise in the foyer.
"Oh. The women are waking." Phoenix says. I can't let them see us like this. It's best you leave now, out the back. You'll have to tell me the rest another time."
"Thanks Phoenix. For everything."
"No, Scarlett, thank you. You made ALL of this possible. Without you, there would be no Ladies for Dolcett. And, there won't be a LFD past Friday if you don't come back. So, please, do what you do best, defy the odds, save your friend, and let's save this world together. For all of the innocent women in Dolcett."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Thurs AM, Mysterious Wood ->The Mysterious Wood]]MINDBREAK
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--
As Phoenix lies next to you, stroking your hair, you feel a guilt setting in.
"You okay?" Phoenix asks, her body cuddling up next to yours. "Don't get me wrong, I really enjoyed myself. I always just feel a little...wrong...after."
"Same." you admit. I've never cum to this fantasy and didn't have some type of hangover."
Phoenix takes a drag of her vape and offers you a hit, but you pass.
“Still, that was REALLY good. I almost came myself…” she says, suddenly sitting up. “Which reminds me…”
Phoenix walks across her tent and rummages through a drawer, pulling out a bracelet.
“I don’t know how to explain it, but the only woman who ever came back from the Mysterious Wood, said she found this there. I don’t know what it does, but having it couldn’t hurt.”
“Alright. Thanks.” You say, putting the bracelet on your wrist.
As Phoenix lays back on the bed next to you, you stare up at the ceiling, wondering.
"How did you come to be in the Subjugation Auction five years ago?" You ask. "You're so smart that I can't imagine you'd get caught up accidently breaking a rule in Dolcett."
"You're very kind, but I wasn't always this way." Phoenix says with a sigh. "Let's just say the rule I broke wasn't an accident."
"Say more."
"Does it matter?"
"Shouldn't it?"
Phoenix takes a long draw from her vape.
"I...well, I..."
"Go on."
"I've always been like; I guess you'd call a tomboy. I never liked dresses; I don't like girly things as a child. My parents tried to steer me towards being pleasing and obedient, and told me if I didn't find a nice man to claim me as his wife, I'd probably be snuffed and sold at a grocery store by the time I was 30." Phoenix says, a smile growing on her face. "I didn't care. I just wanted to do things my way, you know, be different...but then, I met him."
"Him?"
"My parents set it up. He was SO much older than me. A real traditionalist, a firm hand, he had wives before, which didn't seem to bother my parents."
Phoenix takes another long hit of her vape.
"He was so different than all the other men, I'd ever met. He really listened to me, he seemed to care about my dreams, the types of dreams women aren't allowed to have here.
Phoenix sighs.
"I even told him my dream was to run for political office, you know, be the first elected woman in Dolcett. He never laughed at me. He even told me he'd help me, that he had rich, powerful friends that could get me started. He really made me feel..."
"You fell in love with him."
"...I fell for it. alright." Phoenix says, her smile from earlier evaporated. "The minute I took his collar, he completely changed. On our wedding day, he told me my opinions were stupid and my place was on my knees waiting for him to come home. He told me...he took pleasure in breaking opinionated, independent women, and he had taken me on to be his next personal project."
"I can't imagine how that went, knowing how strong you are."
"It went as you'd expect. The same night he told me he swore his undying love for me in front of my family, he whipped me with his belt. He said he had to break me of the idea that I women were capable of anything beyond submission to a man."
"So. You ran away...and got yourself caught on purpose? To escape?"
Phoenix laughs.
"Caught on purpose, yes. Ran away...not exactly." Phoenix takes a drag of her vape, letting the vapor linger in her mouth before continuing, her expression lifeless.
"I knew the minute he truly broke my will, and I accepted my cage, he'd get bored and kill me. So, I did what any proper Dolcett girl would do - I got dressed up in the clothes he picked out for me, strapped on six inch heels, and made him his favorite meal - top girl loin steak and smashed potatoes. You should've SEEN the look on his face as I served his plate, Scarlett, he was so smug. So confident. So convinced he'd broken me.
You don't respond, but quietly nod, for a moment.
"He was also SO wrong. I remember every little micro expression he made as he started to choke. I can hear the sound of him aspirating as the poison burned a whole in his esophagus. The way he tumbled backwards in his chair. And..."
Phoenix takes a deep breath, her eyes vacant as she twirls her vape between her fingers.
"...and when the shock set in, when I really knew he was going to die, I smiled. I smiled for the first time in months. I took my collar off and threw it on his heaving chest and I made sure the last thing he ever heard was - 'I guess women are capable of a lot more than you think.'"
Phoenix looks over at you.
"You sure you still want to be my friend after all that?"
You think a moment before answering.
"I don't know if I'm qualified to pass judgement on you, Phoenix. What's the right answer in a world full of wrong ones?" You explore aloud. "Also...wouldn't you have just been arrested, and not Subjugated?"
"Yes, that is how it should've went, but I had it all planned out - I killed him at dinner on Wednesday night, finished what I thought would be my last meal, hid his body in the closet, and headed into town."
"So, you thought that by the time they found out what happened, you'd be..."
"...dead. Eaten, really, especially being Subjugated on Dolcett Day weekend, I'd be long roasted by the time they'd found out why he'd stopped showing up to work. And to be honest, I was fine with that, I had accepted that my punishment should be an eye for an eye. But then, I met you, in that room that signified my life had ended, I met someone who inspired me that my life had only just begun."
Phoenix places a hand on your head, brushing your hair behind your ear.
"I had never met a woman who really believed that life for us could be better, and I was just inspired to live. I decided right then and there that if I could find a way to escape from whoever bought me, my penance would be to dedicate every moment of my life to making life better for women, whatever the cost."
"I'm not sure if I've made life better or not." you admit. "I thought I'd done so much before I came here - being the gatekeeper that prevented unwilling women from being sent to Dolcett. But, there's so many innocent women here, and all I've done is sent women who had the same urgings as I deny to their death."
"It would appear we have that in common, then." Phoenix comforts. "The urges, the authority role, and sending women to their death. It's a heavy burden."
"I still remember them." You continue. "I remember every single one of them that I approved -their lustful expression, how grateful they were to me, their excitement at being able to fulfill their greatest fantasy. You'd think this would be a proud moment for me, as it's what I'd dedicated my life to, and yet..."
"...you feel the guilt." Phoenix finishes.
"Yes. For their loss of life. For what I could've, should've done? But mostly, for my own hypocrisy. I sit in my fancy chair and stamp their paper like I'm some kind of wise overseer, someone qualified to make a determination on literal life and death. But all I think about, every time I approve a VISA, is what my own name would look like on that paper.
"How close have you ever come? To submitting to your urges?"
"Well, the last time I was here, there was this woman..."
"I thought you said you didn't like women."
"There's something about her, Seductive, transfixing, intoxicating. It was less about who she was and how she looked but how she moved, how she was able with words and a touch to command people. I noticed that even as we were talking, her hands danced across my body, and that she was constantly trying to get inside of me."
"Hot." Phoenix whispers.
"I saw later that any woman she ever got her fingers inside; she was able to control them like a puppet. She was so skillful in the art of lust that even one touch would break them entirely and make them obedient to her forever, a drone aching for its next release."
"Hotter." Phoenix says as her hips grind against you.
"I realized that if she ever got her fingers inside of me, I would have the greatest orgasm of my life, and then, there would be no going back - I'd be dinner. She was intent on roasting me in an oven, alive, and I've just...even though she never was able to touch me there, I..."
"Can't get the image out of your head?"
"Never. I fantasize about it all the time, just giving in to her. There's something simple about it - I'd be giving in just enough to let her rip the control I've struggled with away from me. There's a part of me that just wants to show up at her doorstep with an apple in my mouth and lay down on her platter."
"Who is she? Your famous bodyguard?"
There's some noise in the foyer.
"Oh. The women are waking." Phoenix says. I can't let them see us like this. It's best you leave now, out the back. You'll have to tell me the rest another time."
"Thanks Phoenix. For everything."
"No, Scarlett, thank you. You made ALL of this possible. Without you, there would be no Ladies for Dolcett. And, there won't be a LFD past Friday if you don't come back. So, please, do what you do best, defy the odds, save your friend, and let's save this world together. For all of the innocent women in Dolcett."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Mysterious Wood, Thurs AM ->The Mysterious Wood]]You try to hold your breath even as you decide to begin eating, shoving your face into the meat slop and forcing your jaw to chew through it. You're instantly surprised when, instead of vomiting immediately as you expected, you find that the flavor is rather good. It's actually quite delicious. The ground-up parts of former sows, even their scraps, have cooked up deliciously in this high-calorie, dense meal.
As you raise your head and feel yourself burp, you'll find yourself looking back down, seeking to eat more. You go down for a second helping, and then a third. You eat eagerly, feverishly, and realize that even after your brain sends the signal that you are full, you just continue to eat mindlessly.
As you raise your head, eyes glazed over and chunks of meat dripping down your chin, you realize you're not having much of a rational thought at all. You don't care about anything else except having more slop. There's something about this delicious mixture of meat pie that just drives you wild.
You feel a tug at your neck collar as someone tries to lead you to the grazing area, but you tug back. The shadow of the sun moves as the nightstick rises to clock you on the head. As you look up and see it swinging down, your eyes close. A hand catches the nightstick, stopping it before it can make contact.
“Now, now,” a feminine voice says. “Why would we punish a good sow for eating her fill?”
Mistress kneels down in front of you and licks her lips. You hypnotically lick yours in return, eagerly lapping off the loose chunks of meat that still hang on your chin.
“I say if the sow would like a second helping, we should let her eat. What do you say sow? Would you like to have more??”
You nod eagerly, the stare in your eyes vacant.
You see your eyes wander back over to the trough and notice that, as the other girls eat, it is running low. One of them raises her head and lets out a moo of pleasure.
You look back to your Mistress.
“Go on. Say it.”
“MOOOOOO!”
“Good sow. Eat until you get your fill.”
You turn and dunk your head back into the slop. The Mistress picks up the clipboard and looks it over, nodding in approval.
“This is the leftovers from our pot pie recipe. That's going to be your name from now on. Pot pie. Because that's EXACTLY what you're going to be very soon.”
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Mistress Everett has '90s country music is blaring in her kitchen as she practically dances on her old feet over to the oven. She slips on two oven mitts and then opens the oven door, gently pulling out a large tin and carrying it across to the dining room. She passes the kitchen table and sets it on the waiting windowsill, steam just rising from the homemade crust of a perfect Scarlett Pot Pie.
She lets it cool as she invites some of the farmhands to join her to savor this hearty meal. You've been reduced to the same type of slop, the same mixture of chunks that you enjoyed on the same day that broke you. She even included some of the vegetables that you chose to pass on, balancing you out into the perfect meal.
You're cut into slices and served on plates. As a perfect one-dish meal, there are no sides necessary as everyone digs in, enjoying the fruits of a long day's work.
There is very little left of you as the empty pie tin is thrown into the dishwasher. A farmhand walks a pail of your scraps over to the waiting swine and dumps it into the trough. The sows eagerly devour your slop, fattening themselves up for the next pot pie dinner.
*******************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs Afternoon, Feeding Troughs ->Fattening]]You scream out so loud from your edged orgasm that you're not even sure what sound you make. You lose yourself, entirely, your head vibrating with the intensity of release, and you're not sure what you even fucking look like when you start coming down. As you try and catch yourself, you try and remember what you're doing here.
You can't remember, and you're not sure you care.
You try and remember at least, who you are.
...........
...
.....
"Do you accept what you are now, sow?"
"...moo. Moo? MOO!!!" You say, thrusting yourself back and forth on the fucking machine, eager for another go, your utters lactating a stream of milk.
"That's what I thought, a perfectly broken, docile, bred, milked, and soon to be delicious sow."
Mistress Everett pulls out her scalpel and cuts your vocal cords. She raises a hand and you're brought to orgasm a fourth, fifth, and sixth time.
By the time you're ready for the next station, you don't know any other existence than your own pleasure.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
As you graze mindlessly in the field, every day is a blur. But, the entire idea of a calendar is based around those needing to maintain a schedule, where everything for you is simply decided. You know only by the location of the sun what to look forward to - whether it's orgasms, feeding, milking, or the occasional time that a farm hand comes to use you for relief during his break.
You find a comforting consistency when one farm hand begins to take time with you on a regular basis. You feel yourself become wetter during his visits than any other man, eagerly accepting him between your legs anytime he approaches. You feel fond of him, as he seems to enjoy pumping inside of you and even allows you to have release first, before he cums deeply inside you.
One day, he walks over and ties a leash around your neck. You smile eagerly and walk beside him, led towards a truck that does not appear to be part of the farm. You wonder deep down if this is the day you'll be converted into meat, and you quietly hope that he will be the one dining on you.
As he loads you in his truck, you don't attempt to communicate, but you feel yourself panting, your tongue sticking out, a pleasant look of excitement on your face. You're just happy to be with him. He's always been so sweet to you.
"I'm sure you're wondering where you're going. Well, I've decided to buy you from the farm. There's just something special about you."
You remember enough about language to blush. You feel the affection in his words and you rub your forehead against his shoulder. You're eager for some return to the identity you once took for granted.
"Yeah, so, you're going to live with me for a while. You're not going to be my wife or anything, you're just going to be for my pleasure. You're going to have the same diet and I'm going to keep fatting you up, and when the big day comes, I'm going to roast you for my whole family."
The part of you that thought your reality was about to change goes quiet, but a new part of you glows inside. You feel excited. You were always going to be slaughtered, but to be part of a family tradition sounds awful special. You nod eagerly.
"Yeah, you're going to make a heck of a holiday centerpiece. But, in the mean time..."
He starts his truck and begins to drive down the road. He then unzips his pants, and grips the back of your head.
"...in the mean time, you're going to be my free use pet. You're going to make me cum multiple times a day and do whatever else I need until the big day comes. So..."
He pushes your head down and you eagerly take his cock into your mouth, bobbing up and down greedily.
"That's right. Until your big day comes, it's going to be me cuming big fucking loads down your throat."
************
Months later, you're proudly wheeled out on a cart. You had pointed repeatedly to the oven every time your owner mentioned cooking you over the last several months, and he honored your request by roasting you whole and alive. The table cheers as you're presented and placed in the center, and he eagerly grabs his knife to begin carving you and serving you to his extended family - a dinner party of 27.
The odd number is due to the young woman that was brought by a family friend. Your former owner has heard she's single and eager for the protections in finding a husband. He finds himself lost in her beauty for a moment, and as they share a glance, he decides to serve her plate first.
Soon after, they are wed. When they share wedding vows, they both mention the delicious first meal they shared together - your lasting legacy being the true love you helped inspired through the serving of your flesh.
The circle of life at work.
**************
[[CHECKPOINT: Thurs AM, Livestock ->Livestock]]You scream out so loud in your second orgasm that you're not even sure what sound you make. You lose yourself, entirely, your head vibrating with the intensity of release, and you're not sure what you even fucking look like when you start coming down. As you try and catch yourself, you try and remember what you're doing here.
You can't remember, and you're not sure you care.
You try, at least, to remember who you are.
...........
...
.....
"Do you accept what you are now, sow?"
"...moo." You say, shaking your head softly back and forth in the negative, as your body hangs limp.
"Hmph. You're very stubborn. But, your conversion isn't finished yet." Mistress Everett says, as she turns to a doctor. "Is she ready to produce?"
The doctor turns and looks at a second screen.
"Yes, that second orgasm has her body already filling up. We can begin."
You don't even try to figure out what they are going to do to you next. You just hang limp, completely worn the fuck out from your orgasms. You feel the base pad underneath you slid out, and a new glass pieceslid in it's place. You notice that in this arranagement, your breasts hang out in two glass holes, so they are freely accessible.
Your eyes close, and you groan as you realize what they mean by if you’re ready to produce.
You feel pressure on your breasts, which feelsheavier than they did a few minutes ago, as suction cups are placed upon each of your tits. There is a suction sound as the air clasps around them so tightly that you squeal for a moment, the pressure so intense that it feels like they're going to be ripped entirely off your body.
As you open your eyes, you see that a glass vial has been rolled out in front of you. You notice that a hose runs from it, and you trace the hose back to your suction cups. You moan quietly at the humiliation as you see condensation forming at your breast, and a droplet of white liquid falls from your nipple and is eagerly sucked down the tube and stored in the vial.
"What I'd like to do now is edge her." You hear Mistress Everett say, not directly to you, as she looks over to the doctor. "Have the machine pump her slowly, but not bring her to orgasm. Keep her at the brink of climax, and when she CHOOSES to submit herself to us..."
Mistress Everett turns and leans down to look down at your breasts.
"...then we will release one final mind breaking orgasm on to this sow and destroy any desires she has other than this."
You feel the machine retract, the penis that had been lodged to the hilt inside of you now slowly pulling back out, as it restarts it's pump. It finds a good, steady rhythm that you roll your eyes and bite your lip too, and you feel a wetness at your nipples. You look down and see you're practically leaking milk now, and your eyes follow the hose to see you've already produced several ounces in the vial.
Mistress Everett pets you on the head as your arousal rises. You feel a desire to orgasm, a craving for release, but you just can't get there. It's infuritatin as the the machine adjusting itself to keep you from climaxing time and again, holding you on the edge of screaming out in release.
As you do, Mistress Everett walks over to the milking vial, removing the container, and takes a large sip of your milk, gulping it down her throat loudly.
"Delicious. Now, your milk is ours too." she says to no one in particular, as you are no one to her.
"There's no point in resisting a second further. Moo for me and you'll orgasm as who you are, and the climax that follows will end with you as you are meant to be."
[[Oh god, now you're got to resist screaming for an orgasm. But you're so horny. Maybe just moo and get it over with?->Milking Mindbreak 5]]
[[This is overwhelming. Branded, collared, bred, and now milked. She's already got you in her stomach. It can't be over, can it? ->Milking Mindbreak]]MINDBREAK
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}, 23_000);You start to scream out even before Char's fingers slide inside you. You can't resist anymore, edge anymore, exist anymore as ANYTHING ELSE other than Char's dinner.
"Please eat me. Please fucking eat me." You beg.
Your eyes frantically dance between the waiting oven and the pan, your senses overwhelmed and your brain completely switched OFF.
“Gosh, you poor, poor thing. I haven’t eaten you yet, and you’re already begging? These last few years must have been horrible, darling…”
“Please… roast my fucking ass alive… I want to smell myself cook…”
“And you will. Who am I to deny such a sublime request?”
Charlene slips two fingers inside of you as a guttural moan erupts from your body. She smiles as she tugs you by your quivering, releasing cunt to the island to lie in YOUR pan.
“Don’t worry about a thing, darling. I promise to eat every last bit of you ALL up.”
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Charlene picks up her fork and knife as stares at your perfectly arranged plate. Your cunt has expertly cut off as a steak, your left breast is soaking in your gravy, and a slice of your shoulder is resting just on top of the mashed potatoes. Even a part of your thigh, your strongest muscle, that worked so hard to keep you from the inevitability of this exact moment, is now providing its juices in the vegetable medley that completes Charlene's first meal of you.
She decides to start with your clit. She slowly carves through the top of your vagina, making sure she gets a full bite, but not so much that it dampens the flavor, and eyes your pleasure center before slipping it into her mouth. She moans out so loud that all of the other diners at the table freeze in place. The moment itself causes her body to tremble, and she groans loudly as she orgasms sitting at the table, her clit responding with release as her teeth chew through yours.
She pounds her fist on the table as her legs quiver and pleasure floods through her body. She has to take a break and rest her head on her palm so she can steady herself for her next bite—the culinary experience of finally eating YOU unlike anything else she has ever had.
Charlene had worked so hard for so many years to finally conquer you. And now, having had her first bite, she knows that you were absolutely worth every second of it.
She also decides that not a single part of you will ever go to waste. She is going to consume every bite of you that isn't shared among the dinner party assembled this evening, and even when you are long gone, she will still remember Scarlett Sky.
As she takes her next bite, and then another, she begins to reframe who you were in her mind. She no longer sees you as her rival. No longer sees you as someone to plot and plan against. But, as prey - as just another adversary who got in her way, and ended up in her stomach.
She swallows her next bite loudly as you're sent down her esophagus and slowly digested. Even your flesh is eager to break down and provide its nutrients to Charlene's body. Deep down, your body knew and craved the same thing as your mind - total and complete absorption by the he woman you always wanted to be consumed by.
****************
[[Checkpoint: Saturday AM ->Jenna test]]hasDee:true
--
There are two emotions that cause human beings to act so irrationally that they can cease to be themselves.
One is love.
The other is lust.
It may seem that other emotions, like anger or fear, can also drive someone to act out of character, against their own well-being, or outside their right mind, but those are just responses - manifested through love and lust.
The two emotions that can drive us for minutes, hours, weeks, or years before we can finally see beyond them and look back at what we've become.
That is, if it's not too late.
And if we can look back at it all.
Which of these two emotions will consume you?
*********************************
You haven't been able to sleep in the dark in a long time. For several years, in fact, you've only been able to sleep in the light. There's something soothing about a warm glow surrounding you that allows your mind and body to come to rest.
The downside is that when you sleep in the afternoon, you lose awareness of what time of day it is when you awaken.
*Is it morning? Is it night? Did I oversleep for work? Where am I?*
As you begin to shift yourself awake, you feel that your body is stiffer than usual. You're having trouble getting your arms and legs to move. It's almost as though they're secured in place, and as you continue to press through, your muscles strain as you push your weighted blanket off of you.
The weighted blanket that keeps the nightmares away.
But there's something else that's on you, holding you in place. As you try to open your eyes, you notice it's brighter in the place where you're lying than it should be. You don't keep an overhead light above your bed, insisting on just one small lamp, as it mirrors more of a candle, a flame...
...an oven.
As you force your eyes open and see the fluorescent light above you, you suddenly realize that you are not in your bed, as you expected. And if you're not in your bed, hen you realize that you aren't being held down by a blanket.
As you look at your arms and legs, you realize you're being held down by...
...twine. Roasting twine.
Your body begins to shift in a panic as you realize you're in a roasting pan—perfectly fitted to your size, your body trussed and ready to be slid into an oven. You've got to do something before whoever has placed you in this position comes back.
[[Press against your binds, trying to quietly tear yourself free and sneak away. -> Dream 2]]
[[Yell as loud as you can. It’ll bring attention to you, but you can’t stand this a moment longer. ->Dream Ends A]]https://www.facebook.com/reel/1505296371395470You wake up groggy shaking your head, an intense pain in your jaw. As you start to come too. And you realize you're staring at the ceiling. You try to quickly get up but realize that your hands and your arms are not in your control. You look to your left and right and realize that your wrists are bound by rope to bedposts, and as you look down, it's your feet, they are also tied to bedposts. Your spread eagle, naked, and worst of all, you realize as you go to say something to yourself or move your jaw around, that. You've been gagged with some type of o-ring that is keeping your mouth forced open.
You don't have to spend a a while contemplating your predicament. You hear us some talking in the in the distance and you turn your head and see the old man entering the room, nodding to an assistant, and taking a cocktail. The only glances at you for a moment before he Downs the drink in one goal and places it back on the tray. The assistant leaves with a shoe, and he starts to saunter over
You know, I don't usually Dairy my hands with this type of work. But you particularly have been a rather difficult Thorn in my side. I have to admit, for a woman, for a piece of meat, you've really given me a run for my Lonnie. I'd have to say I'm impressed, and there's a part of me that wants to see if I could bring on your skills to my team. See if we can work together
He sits on the edge of the bed and looks you over, but I think we both know that you'll never go for that. No, you're the type who always thinks that things are going to go her way. You work so hard and you were just so close to overthrowing the government and changing everything. But,
He takes a moment to linger on the word butt letting it sink in what he's going to say next
But, you lost. You and your little try both both weekend Heroes were defeated and now it is time for your little story to come to an end.
He begins to unbuckle his belt and slides it out of his pants. One belt loop at a time.
You see, I would eat you, but as I said before I just can't bring myself to dine on such foul cuisine. But, I'm still a man at the end of the day. And even a man like me can appreciate conquering a woman like you.
He begins to slide down his pants and puts them on the floor. He casually takes off his shirt leaving only on his underwear as he begins to crawl on the bed.
When I was younger, I used to enjoy snuffing women in all of these really creative and sometimes brutal ways. I kind of got bored after a while. It kind of fell out of favor. Sure I enjoy the after meal b****** and having one of my servants put in a stock and then take my way with her. But for you, I'm going to go back to a classic.
As he crawls off you can see his hard and rather large cock erect through his boxers. He stops crawling just as is. Reach your chin.
Yeah, when I was younger, this was my favorite way to snuff a b****. And I've got a feeling, this is going to be one to remember. He slides off his shorts and throws them to the side. He then takes one leg in mounts over your shoulder, his erect cock slapping you in the face.
He leans in as your eyes meet, you suddenly realize how open your mouth is, how impossible it is to stop him, and I'll help us. You'll be to breathe once he starts
When this cock goes in, you'll be alive and breathing. But when it comes out, it'll be limp. My balls will be drained and you'll be dead. I can't f****** wait.
Takes a moment for you to just stare into his eyes and then stare as his cock inches closer and closer to your mouth. Just as he pulls back, like a scorpion ready to strike, you try to take one last inhale breath before he plunges his cock balls deep into your throat.
You try to shake your head to get some air and get him loose, with your arms pulling as hard as they can against the bedpose. It's all for naught. You You're terrified on how defenseless your throat is as he breaks through your barrier and begins to use it as a coxley, your efforts to gasp for air helpless as he thrusts and grips the top of your head by the roots of your hair and begins to use you as a f*** toy. Your panic begins to accelerate as you start to black out, and you realize that it won't be long before you're dead.
Suddenly he pulls his cock back out and you gasp for breath, spit and file and other phlegm come off as you gas for air.
Don't worry, I'm not going to rush myself. I'm going to enjoy this
He plunges his cock back in and he's slowly f**** your mouth, going from All The falls deep to nearly all the way to your lips. Before thrusting again, he groans loudly and you become disgusted with how much pleasure he's clearly taking and killing you. You also get the scent of his musk on your tongue and your nose, and unwashed, masculine, old smell as he clearly did not shower before he decided to use you, it almost makes you throw up, but you couldn't bother to do that as you're too busy being gagged with repeated thrust.
The lack of oxygen to your brain you feel is starting to do some damage. You're having trouble thinking, having trouble fighting back, and as much as you want to try to do something, anything to bite down or fight back or stop this, you feel your body start to go limper and limper, like an animal conquered by another that eventually gives up, surrenders, and is eaten alive. Except, this man has no interest in me eating you, the only one in this entire place who isn't, he's only interested in taking your life as a conquest and a memory
He starts to f*** the deep bowels of your throat with a sudden intensity, only pulling his cock out halfway before thrust, limiting any available oxygen and bringing you close to death. You start to hear the of your own throat as he uses it and the intensity of the grip of his hand. As he nears orgasm, you start to think that you can get him to come just before you die, he might limp in enough for you to get some air, but then, he starts to f*** you so deep that oxygen is impossible and everything starts to go black. You feel the blood vessels break in your eyes as he pushes his weight in his belly and his gut into your nose as he push all of his force and his body weight into your face as he f**** it so hard that makes him audible, slap of the face on your skin and the face of his belly. You feel yourself dying, and then just as you feel him contract, you feel your body take one last gas for air, his seed going directly into your lungs and drowning you a little bit as you suffocate, aspirate, and dye all at the same time, a brutal and painful death just as he moans with release
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
The old man slowly slides his cock out of your dead mouth as he looks at your vacant eyes. A mix of drool and semen running down your lips for a quick second. He's curious of CPR could bring you back to life just so we could f*** your mouth again but then he laughs and just walks away. As he existed his room, he picks up his desk phone and says that he's done now and room service can come change the room
A few moments later, two maids walk in for the laundry basket, untie your body and casually dump it inside. One rolls you out of the room while the other one casually changes the sheets. The one that rolls you out of the room takes you directly down to the kitchen, where the chef gives you a click glance over before writing a menu board. While the man will not eat you, you'll be served the employee employee mess hall restaurant along with other low-class women and throwaways. You'll be eaten, thrown away, as unmemorable as any other cafeteria meal, and no one will even know that you were the woman who almost changed the entire country
The thing is, in dual set, almost is even worse than it is in horseshoes. It's not close, it's not anything, and it only ends with you on a plateYou struggle to fall asleep in the dark. When you finally do, it is because there is light outside you, around you, a comforting, warm, orange light.
You feel your skin get very hot as you open your eyes, the stinging of salt in your eyes slamming your eyes back closed. You inhale in a thick herbal scent, a scent mixed with cooking flesh, and you realize that...
...you're in an oven, somehow. Your body is tied tight, and you're unable to break free. You go to scream, but an apple is pressed firmly in your jaw.
A sound beckons you to bring all your senses to it's calling.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
You turn your head, and through the oven window, you see her, smiling, waiting, licking her lips.
Charlene.
*****
You suddenly wake up, struggling to catch your breath. You don't have to remove your sheet to know what you'll see, but you decide to go ahead and look anyway.
As you pull the sheet back, you've soaked through your panties with a nocturnal orgasm.
"...Is this all I am?" you say to yourself.
You decide that if your brain won't give you rest from your fantasies, that you body doesn't need any more rest, either. You search your tent and put on the fresh clothes left for you, a raggety t-shirt, trousers, and luckily, fresh underwear. You finish off with socks and some athletic shoes - at least you're fully dressed again - for how long, who knows.
As you step out of the tent, you pause to speak an affirmation of what it will take to get through what comes next.
"Today is going to be the longest day of my life. But, I will make it through. I will save Zoe. I..."
You pause as you hold a hand to your heart.
"...I won't lose myself."
You quietly work your way through this makeshift "town" of runaways, criminals, and freedom fighters, just ordinary women trying to do what is considered extraordinary in this world - to have a life of their own. To have any identity other than meat, they have to live here, in the dark. But, perhaps, soon, there will be a way into the light, a way to being something more.
You set Dee's novel down on the splintered picnic table that is used as a common gathering area in this space.
"I still remember promise to you, and I'm not giving it up. I just can't risk you being lost and forgotten." You say to the book. "Besides, who knows? Maybe you'll find your first reader here."
You start to walk towards the exit, but you feel something inside you hesitate. You want to say goodbye to Phoenix - it only seems right, as she's done so much to help you on your quest. You'd hate to wake her, but something tells you she's having as much trouble sleeping as you are on the eve of her big plan.
As you approach her tent, you can hear something - muffled breathing, a wet sound, a weak gasping for air. Phoenix may be in trouble - and may only have seconds to live before whoever is throttling her finishes her off. You steady yourself at the edge of her tent, ready to rush in and do whatever must be done to save her.
As you rip her tent open, you catch Phoenix literally mid breath, her back arched, head back, mouth open with an inhale of ecstasy flowing in her lungs as she vigorously rubs her cunt. She attempts to rip her hand away from her soaking crotch and sit up on instinct, like there was any possibility you didn't see what she was just doing. A feminine scent fills your nostrils to confirm what is at this point obvious.
"I thought you said your people were celibate." You say with a smug, but knowing smile.
"Well... we are. We're supposed to be, at least. But..." she says with a sly smirk forming on her face and a playful shrug. "...hey, nobody's perfect."
You nod, as you'd just came yourself.
"I came to tell you that I'll be going now."
I appreciate that. Best of luck, Scarlett."
You turn to leave, but as you go to slip out the tent, you feel a soft hand on your shoulder. The scent that filled your nose as you entered the tent thickens as her hand rests so closely to your nose.
"How do YOU deal with it, Scarlett? I've been where you've been and I have experienced moreover what you have. Any woman who's been in Dolcett at one point or another experiences the urges."
[[Tell her you're just like her - you masturbate to your fantasies regularly to try and keep yourself from going over the edge.->B2]]
[[Tell her that you try to repress your fantasies by never orgasming to them, to maintain a sense of control in your life. ->F1]]You struggle to fall asleep in the dark. When you finally do, it is because there is light outside you, around you, a comforting, warm, orange light.
You feel your skin get very hot as you open your eyes, the stinging of salt in your eyes slamming your eyes back closed. You inhale in a thick herbal scent, a scent mixed with cooking flesh, and you realize that...
...you're in an oven, somehow. Your body is tied tight, and you're unable to break free. You go to scream, but an apple is pressed firmly in your jaw.
A sound beckons you to bring all your senses to it's calling.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
You turn your head, and through the oven window, you see her, smiling, waiting, licking her lips.
Charlene.
*****
You suddenly wake up, struggling to catch your breath. You don't have to remove your sheet to know what you'll see, but you decide to go ahead and look anyway.
As you pull the sheet back, you've soaked through your panties with a nocturnal orgasm.
"...Is this all I am?" you say to yourself.
You decide that if your brain won't give you rest from your fantasies, that you body doesn't need any more rest, either. You search your tent and put on the fresh clothes left for you, a raggety t-shirt, trousers, and luckily, fresh underwear. You finish off with socks and some athletic shoes - at least you're fully dressed again - for how long, who knows.
As you step out of the tent, you pause to speak an affirmation of what it will take to get through what comes next.
"Today is going to be the longest day of my life. But, I will make it through. I will save Zoe. I..."
You pause as you hold a hand to your heart.
"...I won't lose myself."
You quietly work your way through this makeshift "town" of runaways, criminals, and freedom fighters, just ordinary women trying to do what is considered extraordinary in this world - to have a life of their own. To have any identity other than meat, they have to live here, in the dark. But, perhaps, soon, there will be a way into the light, a way to being something more.
You set Dee's novel down on the splintered picnic table that is used as a common gathering area in this space.
"I still remember promise to you, and I'm not giving it up. I just can't risk you being lost and forgotten." You say to the book. "Besides, who knows? Maybe you'll find your first reader here."
You start to walk towards the exit, but you feel something inside you hesitate. You want to say goodbye to Phoenix - it only seems right, as she's done so much to help you on your quest. You'd hate to wake her, but something tells you she's having as much trouble sleeping as you are on the eve of her big plan.
As you approach her tent, you can hear something - muffled breathing, a wet sound, a weak gasping for air. Phoenix may be in trouble - and may only have seconds to live before whoever is throttling her finishes her off. You steady yourself at the edge of her tent, ready to rush in and do whatever must be done to save her.
As you rip her tent open, you catch Phoenix literally mid breath, her back arched, head back, mouth open with an inhale of ecstasy flowing in her lungs as she vigorously rubs her cunt. She attempts to rip her hand away from her soaking crotch and sit up on instinct, like there was any possibility you didn't see what she was just doing. A feminine scent fills your nostrils to confirm what is at this point obvious.
"I thought you said your people were celibate." You say with a smug, but knowing smile.
"Well... we are. We're supposed to be, at least. But..." she says with a sly smirk forming on her face and a playful shrug. "...hey, nobody's perfect."
You nod, as you'd just came yourself.
"I came to tell you that I'll be going now."
I appreciate that. Best of luck, Scarlett."
You turn to leave, but as you go to slip out the tent, you feel a soft hand on your shoulder. The scent that filled your nose as you entered the tent thickens as her hand rests so closely to your nose.
"How do YOU deal with it, Scarlett? I've been where you've been and I have experienced moreover what you have. Any woman who's been in Dolcett at one point or another experiences the urges."
[[Tell her you're just like her - you masturbate to your fantasies regularly to try and keep yourself from going over the edge.->W2]]
[[Tell her that you try to repress your fantasies by never orgasming to them, to maintain a sense of control in your life. ->M1]]"Yes, I'd like to add on to our Bring-A-Friend order. It turns out we brought TWO friends with us tonight, didn't we Zoe?"
You exhale in relief. You've found her. Now all you have to do is-
"Yes, I'd do anything for my friends. Count me in!" Zoe cheerfully consents.
Your jaw goes slack as you skim the terms of the Bring-A-Friend special.
ANY WOMAN WHO VOCALIZES HER AGREEMENT TO THE BRING-A-FRIEND SPECIAL TO A COCHINILLO ASSADO EMPLOYEE IS SUBJECT TO IMMEDATE PROCESSING. RIGHTS AS A LIVING BEING ARE LEGALLY TERMINATED. ALL SALES ARE FINAL.
"Great, I'd like to order her torso, cooked medium, extra barbecue sauce on her cook, and then another round of drinks I believe are now on the house?" Brittany concludes, setting the menu down.
"I LOVE prime rib!" Zoe cheers. "But I prefer it medium rare. Can we do half and half?" Zoe asks.
"Oh, I don't care what the restaurant does with the other half of you." Brittany teases.
"Great! I think?" Zoe says, a finger going to her chin.
You sit and watch as Zoe is carried off. She's too confused to even protest as she disappears through the kitchen doors.
A part of you still wants to try, but you'd be surrendering your life, just like she had surrendered hers. She was legally dead the minute she gave her consent, and you'd never get her out of customs alive at this point.
"Stupid..." you mutter at yourself, and your failed decision making.
"Don't be so hard on yourself." Brittany teases, eyeing you up and down. "Why don't you stick around for a while? We've got FAR too much food coming. I can tell you've been hungry for something since you got here."
You sigh to yourself. You had silently committed to not indulging on a woman's flesh on this trip, but you've already lost.
You might as well.
GAME OVER. ZOE WAS EATEN.
Epilogue:
You talk loudly with your new friends, and you lose yourself entirely as you make small talk, brag loudly about your successes as a CEO, and wait as your fingers tap on the table for your Zoe torso roast to be served. You’re three cocktails deep by the time the plates are rolled out, and you salivate, a bit of saliva coming right off your tongue onto the plate as the Zoe prime rib with mashed potatoes is served right in front of you. You pick up your fork and knife, cut off a slice, and dig in.
Her flavor is immaculate. She’s perfectly aged, tender, and cooked to perfection. Best of all, you won’t even have to pay, as your donations of the rest of the body will cover the entire bill.
As you go to have a second bite, you hear the tapping of a glass and look up to see that your table has proposed a toast to you for convincing Zoe to serve as tonight's dinner.. You pick up your cocktail from the fresh round that was just delivered, raise it, and swallow it in one gulp.
You set the glass back down and eagerly pick your fork and knife back up. As you cut your second bite, the knife falls out of your hand, and you struggle to grasp it as you’re suddenly seeing double. You look up at the blonde leading this group, who’s giggling as a couple of her friends point at you, and the waiter comes over as she whispers an instruction to him.
As he stares at you, you know that your fate is sealed. They had purchased the latest round, and you had forgotten to swap it out in all of your boasting. You try to stand up to escape, but you practically fall into the waitstaff’s arms as they carry you off to the kitchen to be slaughtered for the same meal you dragged Zoe off to become.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE (ALSO) EATEN.
A black chalkboard is placed outside the restaurant, with specials written on it.
Every dish listed has North Carolina placed upon it. It turns out that you and Zoe will make up the remainder of the menu for the next two to three days, with the restaurant making a tidy profit from the increased pricing on foreign meat. A king-cut, two-girl prime rib sells especially well.
Your "friends" carry you off in doggy bags, their favorite cuts being stored for breakfast or lunch the next day. The high fives, laughter, and boasts, are now all over social media about how dumb North Carolina women are, couldn’t be more true.
You’re the one, after all, who was consumed first by your ego, and then, by your new so-called friends.
********
[[Checkpoint: Monday PM, Cochinillo Assado ->Enter Restaurant New]]You press down on the red button, and watch the spit.
Nothing happens.
You press it again, and then a third time, jamming your finger repeatedly like your brain can't understand why red doesn't mean stop.
Zoe closes her eyes and bites her teeth together, her entire body shaking as you hear her insides tear like paper as the spit presses through, tearing into her abdominal cavity and breaking through the point of no return.
"NOOO!" Zoe yelps out, a wailing sound of pain and fear echoing out of her body, that suddenly goes hollow as the saw underneath her activates and slices her open from neck to naval, her organs falling out on the tray with a plop.
"I'm dead..." Zoe says quietly, in defeat.
"I'm so sorry, Zoe, I wish I could've, I tried-"
You feel a hand on your shoulder, and then another. You turn and lower your center of gravity to deliver a blow to whoever the person's stomach is, but the butt of a meat cleaver handle bashes you between the eyes, knocking you off your feet. You feel yourself carried, and just as you get your senses back, you're slammed down on a metal prep table and held down by 3-4 people.
"Now who in the HELL are you?" Zoe's assistant chef says.
"It doesn't matter." The head chef says, walking in front of you, the meat cleaver still in his hand. "She doesn't matter, just like none of the women here matter."
He grabs you by the hair and faces your vision towards Zoe.
"Watch."
You watch helplessly as the spit passes through her mouth, and see that Zoe is still alive as she's carried off to be cooked over open flame.
You feel a sharp metal prick at the back of your spinal column, the pressure feeling like it's going to break through your veterbrate, just as it suddenly is released with a loud inhale.
A WHACK leaves your vision tumbling as you fall and spin across the floor. You feel yourself weightless as you're picked up by the hair, and see a headless body strung up over a sink to bleed out.
No, it's not some body, it's YOUR body, you realized as your head is flung into a nearby trash can, filled with other lifeless heads and discarded souls.
GAME OVER. YOU (AND ZOE) WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Zoe is served with mashed potatoes
Just when the pressure feels like it is too much, she feels a stinging at her stomach and suddenly feels very light. The sensation is pleasant, relaxing, freeing, until she hears a wet splashing sound and looks underneath her. She watches as her organs fall out of her now open abdominal cavity, and slide down a chute that feeds right into the trash.You gasp loudly as a flood of oxygen brings you back to your senses, just as your eyes were about to cross. You pant loudly and grunt to get some attention.
The head butcher walks over.
“I SAID, FULL ROAST. DON’T MAKE ME FUCKING REPEAT MYSELF AGAIN.”
You feel the pressure lift from your belly, and you exhale and sob quietly, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you.
“Yeah, yeah, OK, got it.”
You’re lowered down and thrown over a shoulder, then laid on a foam tray. You don’t protest as you’re tied down to the tray with twine, absolutely fucking spent from the intensity of the previous moment. Before you can speak again, an apple is shoved deep into your mouth, and you’re wrapped tightly in plastic—so tight that it creates a blanket of pressure against your body.
The pressure feels especially intense between your legs, and you notice a visible moisture forming there. As if on cue, a thick carrot is wedged into your cunt, and the assistant gives it a few taps on the end to secure it in place. You try and hide a soft moan through your apple.
You’re rolled out on the meat cart and hoisted into the counter. Zoe stares at you as she lies adjacent, and you try to flash her a confident look, but your expression conveys more lust than anything else.
You’re just hoping your plan will work. Nothing else matters at this moment.
You watch as the assistant rolls the cart back behind the counter, and you roll your eyes. Zoe is still on display next to you, and once she’s sold, it’ll be over. You don’t even take a moment to ponder your own fate; you’re just dejected that she’s been lost.
Suddenly, you hear yelling behind you.
The butcher shop door bursts open.
“DO I HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING MY GODDAMN SELF?!” the head butcher shouts, storming out and hoisting Zoe out of the case. She gasps as he pulls a knife out of his pocket, points it right at her, and expertly cuts her loose in a matter of seconds.
“A deal’s a deal. Just don’t be a stranger, little one. Come see me again.”
Zoe stands quivering and naked in front of you, shaking her head before looking down at you.
“What was THAT all about?” Zoe says.
You try to mumble, “I’m saving you,” through your apple, but you don’t know if the words made any sense.
“That didn’t sound like ‘I’m sorry,’” Zoe says. “Try again.”
“Mmmph?” is all you can say in response.
“Like, where do you go off calling me stupid? I thought we were friends?”
You just roll your eyes as obviously as you can and shake your head as much as the twine holding your neck to the foam tray will allow.
“Anyway... what are we going to do about YOU, Claire?” Zoe says, as she suddenly looks down at herself. “Oh, shit, I just realized I’m naked. “Do you think they’ll give my clothes back, you know, because I’m not dinner anymore?”
Your eyes narrow in annoyance.
“Right. Okay. Listen. I’m going to go back to the hotel and get dressed. Then I’ll come back and, um, buy you? How much do you cost?”
She pulls your tag in close.
“$300? Gosh, that's steep, but I have that in my safe at the hotel. I just gotta ask my fiancé’s permission first. You know, he doesn't like me making the big decisions... well, any decisions by myself, really. I just have to explain that I gotta... buy a whole woman?"
She giggles and scampers off.
You look over at your tag and squint at the price. You see that you cost $3,000, not $300. This is the price of human life in this place. Or, rather, human death.
“She doesn't even have enough money to rescue me. Am I already gone?” you wonder to yourself. “Am I no longer a person? Am I already just meat?”
The reality of your situation begins to set in as you look at the plastic-coated women that are displayed beside you. Most of them have a look of inevitably in their eyes as they await being purchased. You notice another is practically frotting against the pressure of the plastic, grinding her cunt against it so much that it's fogged over, her eyes rolling back in her head. You watch as she’s hoisted by two clerks and put into a basket. She moans through her apple as the young man purchasing her shares to no one in particular “I’m going to stuff her myself before I roast her” as he wheels her down the aisle.
*I'm going to be someone's dinner tonight if I don't think of a way out of this. *
You decide to let your mind wander for the next hour or two. Occasionally, a woman walks by wearing one of those heart-shaped necklaces that signify she is a married woman, safe from slaughter in Dolcett, and you watch helplessly as she peers at you. You notice that they aren't actually looking at you, but rather reading your label and examining parts of your body more than anything else. You are meat, after all. One after another, you feel your heart race as you wonder if this will be the person who purchases you.
But they walk away. You feel a strange sense of sadness, almost as though you're hurt by the rejection of not being eaten. You roll your eyes and feel a headache beginning to form as you remember how difficult this place is and how dangerous it was to return. But, if you were able to save Zoe's life, and she's on her way home, you've succeeded in your mission. As for yourself, well, it might just be time to relax and enjoy living out what has secretly been your greatest fantasy.
You're going to be a full oven-roasted Scarlett, served with all the trimmings and probably saved for leftovers. It's not so bad. You've wondered what the inside of an oven feels like ever since Charlene whispered about it in your ear over and over again five years ago.
For a moment, you allow yourself to squeeze your pelvic floor against the carrot wedged inside you, mixing a bit of your juices with it’s own. You feel your eyes shoot at the rush of pleasure, and begin to press your cunt against the plastic, the pressure it creates causing your eyes to roll back in your head.
[[You feel your mind slipping. The women who share this case are lost, don't end up like them. ->Grocery Mindbreak]]
[[You know what, push into that carrot. Draw out an orgasm, enjoy the ride. ->Grocery Mindbreak 4]]**PREVIOUS OPERATIONS — ONE WEEK IN DOLCETT**
Five years ago, Scarlett Sky, a middling employee in a forgettable position at Bates Accounting, was offered a life-changing opportunity from her boss Morgan: a chance to earn one million dollars for just one week of work.
In exchange, she had to travel to an exotic country, work her usual 40 hours remotely from their partner office, and importantly - take time to get to know the locals.
The trade-off was that the exotic country chosen was Dolcett, the only country in the world where cannibalism—specifically, eating women—was not only legal but a routine, everyday part of the culture. Scarlett accepted the offer, thinking that the money would be an opportunity to change her life forever, but it was the journey itself that taught Scarlett more about herself than she ever thought possible.
The customs of Dolcett quickly challenged Scarlett, finding herself faced with choices poised to place her on the menu at every turn. But she quickly adapted. She learned to refuse drinks from strangers, not to wander foolishly into places with large appliances, and to be very careful about whom she decided to trust.
Scarlett believed that her greatest challenge would be from a predator external to herself, but she found herself challenged internally as well. The longer Scarlett remained in Dolcett, the more she found herself strangely tempted by the submission she saw all around her. A fateful encounter on Tuesday afternoon shook Scarlett, as she witnessed a woman willingly give herself to be slaughtered in a grocery store. Scarlett's eyes were stained forever by the vision of that volunteer climaxing at the very moment of her evisceration.
There was something about that moment of final surrender, of an exchange of power from one person to another, forever, that was undeniable. Scarlett closed her eyes that night and imagined herself on the meat hook next to her, as Scarlett had her first of many orgasms to come from this strange new kink. Regardless, she pressed on, intent on redefining herself through completing her quest, collecting the money, and finding a true purpose—one where she could make a difference in the world.
And yet, it appeared the inhabitants of Dolcett had it out for her, specifically. One, Charlene, the manager of DolcettCo, had spent every engagement enticing every one of Scarlett's senses. Scarlett had never considered sleeping with a woman, but she felt a fatal attraction to Charlene's touch—realizing that one slip of Charlene’s fingers inside of her would result in a total surrender of control. Charlene made her objective clear from their first encounter - to draw Scarlett into an oven to roast alive, with the promise of a higher level of ecstasy than she ever thought possible as she transitioned from main character to main course.
But Scarlett persevered. After narrowly escaping an assassin on Wednesday night and nearly being boiled alive in a pot of soup, she raced onto the streets, naked, only to be captured and sold at an auction after failing to understand the rules of Subjugation Day—that on Wednesday nights in Dolcett, any unmarried woman on the street is free to be grabbed by any man and used for any purpose.
Scarlett was fortunate, in one regard, to be sold to the Subjugation Auction, where she would then be retailed to the highest bidder for whatever devilish purpose they had in mind. Scarlett nearly broke in this moment, the helplessness of having her rights stripped away overwhelming her, as the lights turned from red to yellow to green. But a chance encounter with another captive inspired Scarlett to rise to her feet and take the challenge head-on.
Scarlett was purchased and driven to a sacred place, the Sleeping Willow Forest, where she first encountered Puma Catori. Puma had purchased Scarlett for the sport of hunting her through her land, in the traditions of her people that began long before the written word. Scarlett was offered a challenging bargain: if she could outlast Puma past the setting of the sun, she would be granted her freedom, and her identity, once more.
And thus began a battle of wit and will through the depths of the Sleeping Willow, with Scarlett's cunning making the right choice at every turn to stay alive. Just as the sun began to set and Scarlett could finally take a breath, she felt two arms wrap around her waist, and she was thrown headfirst to the ground - concussed, captured, and soon to be cooked.
Scarlett was offered one last reprieve: Puma would allow the battle to continue in a new format – her tongue against Scarlett’s cunt. If Scarlett could resist orgasm long enough for the sun to dance over the horizon, Scarlett would be declared the winner. So, Scarlett edged, ached, and denied herself as best she could - but just before the climax of daylight, Scarlett became enraptured in her own soul-shattering release, with only acceptance of her fate as dinner remaining within her.
What happened next has hung over Puma and Scarlett ever since. As Scarlett dangled by an ankle from Kal’Kanok, a sacred tree in the Sleeping Willow, seconds away from being harvested and eaten by Puma - the sun suddenly crept beyond the horizon. The forest had made its declaration: the hunt was concluded, and Scarlett would continue on in her quest.
Scarlett returned to work on Friday to experience Dolcett Day—a national holiday to celebrate a woman's right to choose. Scarlett at first felt the day would be easy, as the only way she could be consumed on this day would be at her own request. And yet, it proved to be as challenging as any other, as Scarlett became intensely aroused at every potential demise in front of her. Just as she could feel Charlene overwhelming her desire to fall to her knees in surrender, Scarlett rose to her feet.
"I am Scarlett Sky, of NORTH Carolina. That is where I am from, and where I will return, in ONE piece. If it is your intent to make me into a meal, to take me against my will, to rob me of my consent, know that you do not honor the day you claim to celebrate. I will not kneel on a day that is about the right for women to stand together."
Scarlett entered this journey questioning her purpose in life. But by traveling to Dolcett, she learned what she was capable of, discovered an innate ability to lead, and found out what she was willing to fight and die for.
And die, Scarlett nearly did. Upon her return to collect her one million dollars, she learned that the entire operation to send her to Dolcett had been a setup. Scarlett’s boss Morgan had actually been Charlene's Mistress all along, and they had developed a simple business relationship: Morgan would send unknowing American women to Dolcett, and the locals would eagerly consume them at the highest price. The trade was very lucrative and had gone on for years - the only catch was that for a woman to have business dealings in Dolcett, she was required by law to have a fallback person to take over her company in the event that she herself was ever eaten.
Morgan had quietly listed Scarlett as her backup person, and just as Scarlett was to be legally notified, she was sent to Dolcett to be consumed. This same scheme had allowed half a dozen women to serve as the backup owner of Bates Accounting, but no one had ever returned.
No one before Scarlett Sky, that is, when she walked back in the door after her week in Dolcett.
Morgan was not unprepared. The documentation Scarlett signed for the one million had a clause stating that Scarlett legally volunteered to be slaughtered if she did not complete all 40 hours at her desk job at DolcettCo. And since Scarlett had been subjugated and hunted on Thursday, she was, by law, now Morgan’s property. But Scarlett had a contingency plan: a fake set of documents declaring that Morgan had signed the contract, and not Scarlett.
Scarlett received those documents from Morgan’s secretary Jenna, who had found out that she had already been scheduled for her own one-way ticket to Dolcett. Scarlett intended to only negotiate for what she was owed and walk away - but when Charlene realized Morgan’s misfortune, she struck. She quickly rendered her now former mistress unconscious, faxed over the paperwork sealing her legal death, and eagerly carried her off to roast alive in her oven.
Scarlett then faced a final choice—a choice that has weighed heavily on her soul over the last five years. She could have just walked away from all of it—no money, but also no obligation—but she was now the legal owner of Bates Accounting, and could shape the business in any way she saw fit.
Charlene shared an eagerness to continue importing unwilling women, but Scarlett had a different mission in mind. Scarlett would rebrand the organization as SkyCorp - an exotic travel agency that provided visas to Dolcett, but ONLY for women that Scarlett herself vetted and approved. Scarlett had come to understand, through the warmth between her own legs, that some women genuinely desired the complete and total submission of being turned into a culinary delight for another. She would stand as gatekeeper to ensure that the imports of the unwilling, unknowing, and innocent would never go through her doors.
Scarlett assembled a team that has stood by her for the last five years: herself at the helm, Jenna as her top executive, and Puma Catori—the woman who had hunted her down with the goal of consuming her flesh—as her bodyguard, keeping the advances and persuasions of Charlene at bay.
Five years ago, Scarlett vowed to do whatever was necessary to make the world a better place—to keep women in North Carolina and across the United States safe from the fate of being consumed against their will.
Now, five years later, Scarlett faces a new challenge: a strange set of circumstances that compel her to return to the very place that threatens to consume her very existence - Dolcett.
[[Return to Title Screen ->Intro]]You feel your brain go completely asleep as you feel yourself become overwhelmed with lust - there's just no denying that your greatest fantasy is literally being served right in front of you. It's not enough to see it. It's not enough to smell it. It's certainly not enough to have a taste of it.
You have to absolutely and unequivocally experience it.
"Will there be anything else?" the waiter says as he begins to depart.
"Oven roasted Scarlett..." you mumble.
All of the eyes at your table drift to you as your hand wanders down to your crotch.
"What was that, madam?" the waiter say.
"I want to be... Oven roasted Scarlett..."
"I thought you said your name was Claire?" the girl next to you says.
Brittany's head slowly tilts as her wheels turn, and then a devilish smile flashes across her face.
"Go ahead. Say it one more time. Say it loud enough that everyone can hear."
Your hand rubs vigorously between your legs as your head shoots back, your words erupting from your lungs just as an orgasm floods your body.
"I WANT TO BE OVEN ROASTED SCARLETT!!!!!!!"
The entire restaurant falls silent, diners frozen in place with forks held at their mouths as they watch on.
Brittany looks over at the waiter and points at you.
"I'd like to order THAT, please and thank you."
You feel yourself being picked up and carried off as you struggle to get control of your hand. But it's not for the purpose of breaking you free; it's for the purpose of rubbing yourself to get one more orgasm as you're carried off to make your greatest fantasy come true.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
"I'd like to order THAT."
The blonde girls’ words linger on your brain, repeating over and over in what's left in the mush of your mind.
You're so delirious with lust that you feel like you're hovering in midair - because you are. Shortly after you were ordered, two waiters come to carry you off to the kitchen. You don't resist, eager to feel the heat of your greatest fantasy finally flamed.
As you're laid down on a stainless-steel prep table, you feel pepper cracked on your back and hands rubbing a glaze all over you.
It's finally happening. You're going to be roasted alive in an oven like you've always-
You feel the sharp edge of a meat cleaver press against the back of your neck. The cold steel snaps you back into reality.
"No..." you mutter.
You realize that they're not going to cook you alive. They're going to-
A metal ringing in your ears overwhelms all of your senses as your vision spins. As you're able to get your faculties, you see a quivering, beheaded body hanging over a sink, blood rushing out from the stump at the neck. You admire the toned muscle and hard work that this very similar aged woman must have done to maintain such an athletic, but feminine physique. If anything, she looks exactly like...
You gasp as you realize that you are staring at yourself. You realize they've ordered your torso to be roasted, just like whomever was sitting in your seat just before you arrived. You feel yourself being carried, and then feel a sense of falling as you land in a plastic bag.
Your final thought is the realization that your head has been thrown in the trash, as the parts of you this society values will soon be on to cook.
********
[[Checkpoint: Monday PM, Cochinillo Assado ->Enter Restaurant New]]On cue, as Ella begins to rub your clit harder than you like, you let a shiver go through your body as you quietly gasp. You nearly cum just from feigning your pleasure, as you're so fucking close, and you can see through blurry vision as she grins and maintains her effort. The blade continues to press into your neck, and the shaking in your body becomes real.
You hold off for one minute, two, five, but you're building. This isn't how you prefer, but it's too much, too hot, too intense. She edges you over and over and over, and you just NEED to cum, consequences be damned, and you feel your body tighten up as it prepares to release, soften, and then...
BEEP.
The sound of the kitchen timer breaks both the movement in her hand, and your lust, in this moment.
"Damn it! You've got to be kidding me?! It's been thirty minutes already?"
She grabs you by the hair and turns your head.
"I have to start my ragu RIGHT NOW or Theron's dinner will be late. Do you know how rude you are by delaying my grandmother's family recipe?"
You just moan out in response.
"No matter, I'm going to get the sauce going and then I'm going to return, make you orgasm, slaughter you, and you're just going to end up in the next batch. You've stopped nothing."
Ella slams her sickle back on the shelf and leaves the room.
You hang unattended for a second, trying to gather yourself as you limply dangle. You realize that THIS is the opportunity you've been waiting for, and pull yourself up by your core, just like you did in the forest trap, and see that you just have to hold your weight at the top of the chain, lift your wrists over the hook, and you'll be free.
As you drop down to the floor, you try to land softly, nearly toppling over as you're still bound by your hands and feet. You hop over to the knives on the wall, and cut your wrists free with the sickle. You then use it to cut your ankles free, a rush of hope going through as you finally feel like you have a chance.
You hear footsteps overhead as Theron must be out of the shower. You don't have time to waste, and just as you go to open the culling room door, you see the doorknob twist. You hide around the side, and as Ella walks in, confused, you grab her from behind, pull her down, and hold her in a rear naked choke.
"Ssssh. I'm not going to hurt you. I just need you to go to sleep." you whisper softly in her ear as she loses consciousness.
She'll wake from this blood choke in seconds, so you strip off her apron, grab a knife and cut it up, making a gag for her mouth. As she begins to come to, you finish tieing her ankles with more apron and you grab the control lever.
"Mmmmmmph! MMMPPH! MMMRRKK!" she grunts loudly.
You hear Theron stomp his foot from upstairs.
"That's right baby. Make that doe scream. I'm getting hungry."
You press the control and Ella's body lifts, her head dangling over the sink underneath.
"Looks like I won't be on the menu after all." You quip as you crack the culling room door, dance through the living room, and slip out the front door. You immediately break into a full sprint, naked, directly towards the banquet hall. Judging by how far away it is, and the position of the sun, you can STILL make it in time to save Zoe.
You check back a few times, expecting to see Theron in pursuit, but are relieved that he's not following. Back at the barndomium, a half hour after you are gone, he enters the culling room, to find his wife hanging, screaming, desperate.
"Hmmmmmm. Really? This is a heck of a Dolcett Day present, sweetheart."
Ella's eyes bulge as she shakes her head no as she picks up the sickle and cuts through the crotch of her jeans, allowing his fingers to slip inside her.
"Now, let's make sure you go out screaming. You're going to make delicious Ragu."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Thurs PM - Banquet Hall, Outside->Banquet Outside]]You examine the path, then look back at Abutit and cautiously sidestep until you're at the brink of the doorway.
As you turn to rush out the door, you hesitate.
*Anytime I agree with her on what she decides reality is, she has the advantage... *
You quickly turn around and raise the knife back up, only to see Agatha standing behind a large, earthy brick oven that has appeared behind her. You gasp at how... cozy... the oven looks as she stokes the flames. Suddenly, the blade is ripped from your fingers, floating through the air back to Abutit.
"You are partially right, dearie..." she says as she raises a hand to encircle you with her magic once more. "This is all about [[YOU deciding what is reality...->Abutit Oven]] but don't forget, I have the advantage of knowing what you think."
As she floats you toward the oven door, your body is laid face down and folded up in a classic roasting position—knees tucked into your belly, arms alongside your body, and head sticking out. You see a roasting pan floating underneath you as you're lowered in, with the [[oven door opening->Abutit Oven]] and [[flames dancing inside,->Abutit Oven]] aching to kiss your flesh.
"THIS is that biggest fantasy you talked about, isn't it? It has been centuries since I've had a good roast."
You feel yourself floating toward the oven door. You tell yourself it isn't real, but it doesn't disappear—it gets bigger, the [[flames roaring louder->Abutit Oven]] as you inch closer. You see vegetables fly in from her garden, nestling themselves underneath you to catch your drippings. A lone turnip hovers at the edge of your cunt, pressing inside to stuff.
“Mmmmph…” you groan out.
"You’re not getting out of this one, dearie. That [[oven is VERY real->Witch Defeat]], as it's always been so real to you, hasn't it?"
Abutit snaps her fingers and an apple appears, and you [[moan out as you feel your pussy soak->Abutit Oven]] as your [[greatest fantasy->Abutit Oven]] is about to finally come true.
"Oh, I've definitely got you now. In just a few hours, the only thing left of you is going to be [[bones picked clean on a platter."->Abutit Oven]]
You feel your eyes roll back into your head and your body near orgasm as she slides you into her giant brick oven. The flames immediately kiss and cook your skin as you quiver in the heat as you roast alive.
"Mmm. I was looking forward to soup, but you're going to make a GREAT roast. Bye-bye."You struggle to fall asleep in the dark. When you finally do, it is because there is light outside you, around you, a comforting, warm, orange light.
You feel your skin get very hot as you open your eyes, the stinging of salt in your eyes slamming your eyes back closed. You inhale in a thick herbal scent, a scent mixed with cooking flesh, and you realize that...
...you're in an oven, somehow. Your body is tied tight, and you're unable to break free. You go to scream, but an apple is pressed firmly in your jaw.
A sound beckons you to bring all your senses to it's calling.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
You turn your head, and through the oven window, you see her, smiling, waiting, licking her lips.
Charlene.
*****
You suddenly wake up, struggling to catch your breath. You don't have to remove your sheet to know what you'll see, but you decide to go ahead and look anyway.
As you pull the sheet back, you've soaked through your panties with a nocturnal orgasm.
"...Is this all I am?" you say to yourself.
You decide that if your brain won't give you rest from your fantasies, that you body doesn't need any more rest, either. You search your tent and put on the fresh clothes left for you, a raggety t-shirt, trousers, and luckily, fresh underwear. You finish off with socks and some athletic shoes - at least you're fully dressed again - for how long, who knows.
As you step out of the tent, you pause to speak an affirmation of what it will take to get through what comes next.
"Today is going to be the longest day of my life. But, I will make it through. I will save Zoe. I..."
You pause as you hold a hand to your heart.
"...I won't lose myself."
You quietly work your way through this makeshift "town" of runaways, criminals, and freedom fighters, just ordinary women trying to do what is considered extraordinary in this world - to have a life of their own. To have any identity other than meat, they have to live here, in the dark. But, perhaps, soon, there will be a way into the light, a way to being something more.
You set Dee's novel down on the splintered picnic table that is used as a common gathering area in this space.
"I still remember promise to you, and I'm not giving it up. I just can't risk you being lost and forgotten." You say to the book. "Besides, who knows? Maybe you'll find your first reader here."
You start to walk towards the exit, but you feel something inside you hesitate. You want to say goodbye to Phoenix - it only seems right, as she's done so much to help you on your quest. You'd hate to wake her, but something tells you she's having as much trouble sleeping as you are on the eve of her big plan.
As you approach her tent, you can hear something - muffled breathing, a wet sound, a weak gasping for air. Phoenix may be in trouble - and may only have seconds to live before whoever is throttling her finishes her off. You steady yourself at the edge of her tent, ready to rush in and do whatever must be done to save her.
As you rip her tent open, you catch Phoenix literally mid breath, her back arched, head back, mouth open with an inhale of ecstasy flowing in her lungs as she vigorously rubs her cunt. She attempts to rip her hand away from her soaking crotch and sit up on instinct, like there was any possibility you didn't see what she was just doing. A feminine scent fills your nostrils to confirm what is at this point obvious.
"I thought you said your people were celibate." You say with a smug, but knowing smile.
"Well... we are. We're supposed to be, at least. But..." she says with a sly smirk forming on her face and a playful shrug. "...hey, nobody's perfect."
You nod, as you'd just came yourself.
"I came to tell you that I'll be going now."
I appreciate that. Best of luck, Scarlett."
You turn to leave, but as you go to slip out the tent, you feel a soft hand on your shoulder. The scent that filled your nose as you entered the tent thickens as her hand rests so closely to your nose.
"How do YOU deal with it, Scarlett? I've been where you've been and I have experienced moreover what you have. Any woman who's been in Dolcett at one point or another experiences the urges."
[[Tell her you're just like her - you masturbate to your fantasies regularly to try and keep yourself from going over the edge.->Pussy Eating 2]]
[[Tell her that you try to repress your fantasies by never orgasming to them, to maintain a sense of control in your life. ->Pussy End 1]]https://www.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=1543211990798431&id=100053289343680&rdid=ETSMyoPoTSnmm653#
Normal text goes here, but <span style="color: darkorange;">this specific phrase is orange</span> within the sentence“Please…” you say, trying to sound as softly as possible. “I don’t think your wife would enjoy all these men’s sweat and stink on her dinner. Besides, she plans to harvest me fresh, doesn’t she?” You say, trying to say whatever the fuck this is as sweetly as possible.
Theron takes a moment to look at the line of dirty, sweaty, entitled hunters waiting in line to fuck your cunt.
“You know what boys..."
The man in the front of the line unbuckles his pants.
"...she IS right.”
A collective groan fills the room. You quickly choke back a smile as you take pleasure in the sound of their disappointment.
“My wife is going to be grinding her meat fresh, and that’s final.”
Theron pulls you by the neck, and you eagerly walk alongside him outside as he leads you to a black pickup truck.
“Groceries ride in the back…” Theron mutters before pausing for a second. “Although, I have something different planned for you.”
You watch as he begins to gather ratchet straps from his truck bed and starts to tie them…to the roof.
“This will help you learn your place, in case you have any remaining doubt.”
Once he’s ready, he walks over, scoops you up over his shoulders, and lays you on your back on the roof of his truck. He then straps you down so tightly that you can barely breathe, not to mention have any chance of escape.
“It’s only a short ride back to the compound. I’d suggest you rest; it would be better for your meat, anyhow.”
[[Advance to: Thursday, Early Afternoon ->Ragu]]As Puma races forward, your hips raise. You don't prepare a kick, a trap, or any kind of defense, you just direct your glistening cunt towards her as the future entree you've always wanted to be.
You feel her blade enter just above your mound, and you moan out in shock as she wastes little time carving your pelvis out of your body. Your eyes roll back in your head, and you quake - from the pain, the finality, and the realization of your lust becoming reality. An orgasm rushes through you just as your pussy is severed from your body.
The tenseness of your eruption shows off every muscle you've trained, every minute you've spent preparing yourself to avoid a fate like this. Then, all at once, every single part of you goes completely soft. You’re fork tender as you expire in complete surrender.
Your most tenderized cut of flesh is lifted proudly overhead by Puma, and then carried off to become Puma's campfire roasted dinner.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
"I can't believe I just watched Scarlett die like that. She was so strong, so driven, and so skilled, and yet..."
"And yet, she was a slave to her own desires. I told her for years that her craving to be eaten would be her undoing. And now, even after half a decade of preparation, I was able to use her weakness against her and turn her into this."
Puma places down your severed hips on a makeshift table she has laid out for the occasion. Your cunt, rump, and pelvis are still together, a part of one large roast. She takes her knife and begins to cut slices through your flesh, first horizontally, then vertically, creating little gaps. She then begins to make a seasoning out of natural herbs, berries, salt, pepper, and oil - completing it with hot water to make it soft to mash together.
"But...Scarlett was more than this. She changed the world. She didn't deserve to be eaten just because she had a desire. It's okay to lust. It's okay to want."
"It's okay in moderation. Scarlett was never someone who lived in moderation, and that is why she was defeated in such a way by me."
Puma begins to pack fingerling potatoes into the gaps she slivered in your flesh. She then pours her sauce over your soon-to-be roast, packing it into gaps with her fingers to seal everything in place. She then uses twine to wrap your pelvis tight before sealing it in foil.
"Scarlett spent her entire life hiding from who she really was, dug deep in her own secrets. That's why my training wasn't enough. If she had been able to fully realize who she was burrowed deep, she would have survived, and it would be ME who would be being eaten right now."
Puma begins digging a shallow hole in the ground. She then packs your roast into the dugout before covering it with dirt. She then moistens the dirt, covers it with ash, and throws some kindling on top. She then starts a roaring campfire and watches as the hours pass, the flame dies down, and the heat fades.
Long after the Sun has set, and the campfire has completely burned down to ash, the heat burrowing down into the Earth creates a hearth where your flesh is cooked to perfection from within the ground. As she unburies you and brings you back to the table, she sets you down and peels the foil back - the smoke rising as your perfectly cooked flesh is eager to escape and be consumed. Puma is able to pick at you with her hands, first tearing off some of your labia and sliding it in her mouth. She moans loudly as she takes a piece of your rump next, before eyeing something she’s thought about for five years.
"She spent her entire life exercising these muscles. It makes sense they’d be so tender. So juicy. But, even my training wasn’t able tighten her most special little bit.”
Puma tears off your entire clit with her fingers and slides it into her mouth, savoring every last taste of your tender pleasure center. She then licks her fingers clean just as she did five years ago – but this time, there will be no reprieve.
There will only be her next bite.
*********************
[[Checkpoint: Friday PM, Sleeping Willow Forest ->Puma Battle Intro]]You try to stammer a lie out of your lips, but just a jumble of half-finished sentences exits your lips as you feel yourself slipping away with each attempt at dishonesty.
If anything, lying repeatedly draws you closer and closer to the truth. To the inevitability and undeniability of your true purpose.
Finally, flustered, your admission pours out.
“You’re right about everything, Char. I can’t fight it anymore…”
Char holds her two fingers out in front of you and you bite your lip as you walk over and impale yourself on your hand, any remaining resistance washing out of your mind.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Charlene pulls up a chair and watches eagerly as you roast in the oven. You stopped squirming a couple of minutes ago, and your body lies motionless as you doze while cooking. She taps on her wine glass and takes a sip, counting down the minutes until she can dig into your flesh.
DING DONG
Charlene looks up at the sound of her doorbell and, without turning her head, gestures to Jenna to answer it.
"We have a guest, Mistress," Jenna says.
"Oh? She must be here early, then. We weren't expecting her until—"
"Oh my GOODNESS... Scarlett?"
Charlene turns her head in surprise and sees Zoe standing in her atrium.
"Well, what a delicious little surprise. Look what just wandered into my lair."
Charlene begins to saunter toward Zoe. Zoe remains mesmerized, her eyes locked on the red oven where you roast silently and motionlessly.
"I'm going to be brave... I'm going to save you, Scarlett. I just need to be willing to—"
Zoe suddenly gasps and makes a gurgling sound as her head go stiff, her gasping for air like a fish on a hook. Charlene grins as she slides her so fingers so deep inside of Zoe that she nearly lifts off the ground.
“Holy moly... that feels... so... so...”
“It feels better than being touched by any man, doesn't it, darling?” Charlene teases.
“Yes... it's so... so...”
Charlene continues to knead inside Zoe until she literally quivers and quietly cums on her hand. Zoe’s eyes glaze over and she looks eagerly at Charlene, her only remaining need being her next release.
“It's been FAR too long since I've had a new pet…” Charlene says as bops Zoe on the nose. I think I'm going to keep you and play with you for a while and then...”
Jenna walks over, her legs shaking and head bowed.
“But Mistress, please, I'm still useful...”
“Don't you worry your pretty little head, darling. WE are business partners now, remember? I need you to get business back to the way it used to be in North Carolina.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
“But, this one…”
Zoe's eyes roll back in her head as a second orgasm nears.
“This one…I'm going to keep for my play thing. And then when the time comes, I'm going to roast her for my dinner.” Charlene says with a grin. “What a wonderful day this has turned out to be...”
Charlene sneaks a glance at you roasting in the oven, and then a devilish grin flashes on her face.
“…speaking of.” Charlene says, a sinister look on her face as she turns to her new pet. “Zoe, darling, please join us for dinner this evening. “We're having Roast Scarlett. I’m sure she would be delighted for you to be served a plate.”
Zoe’s eyes wander to your cooking flesh and she licks her lips, the taste of Puma fresh on her tongue.
“Yes, Mistress, I’d love to dine on Scarlett this night.”
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Saturday AM, Charlene's Kitchen ->HomeC Clean]]"Uh, did you hear that boss? They said their march is legal." the deputy says.
"Yeah, but you're not listening to the important part of what she said." The captain says as he switches on his walkie talkie. "She said we are welcome to use force. Sounds like CONSENT to me, doesn't it to you, son?"
"Sure does, boss.” The deputy responds with a raspy laugh. “SURE does."
"Wait, no, that's not what I meant –“ Phoenix stammers out.
The captain yells an order into his walkie talkie and police from all areas of the street converge on the LFD. One by one, Phoenix watches her followers clubbed by night sticks, dragged off, or wrestled to the ground. She feels herself lifted off the ground and is carried away by three officers - the last thing she sees before she's shoved into a police wagon is Blueberry being led off by a leash.
*I can't believe this, I've failed. I've failed everyone...*
GAME OVER. PHOENIX WAS EATEN.
Epilogue:
Phoenix's face flashes with the same resolve and determination that have become her signature, even as she's led by a collar and leash into the Baron's residence. As she's brought into his study, he stares out through his floor-to-ceiling window at the various properties that extend just beyond his estate.
"I have nothing to say to you. And there's nothing that you can do to me. We both know that you're not into inflicting pain. It's not good for the meat, right?" Phoenix teases.
"You are right about one thing..."
The Baron slowly turns his chair around to face Phoenix.
"I am not about inflicting pain..."
He stands and slowly walks over as Phoenix shuffles her feet to step back, but she's held in place by the officer who brought her in.
"...And it is true that suffering of any type lessens the quality of the meat..."
He continues his slow approach, confident, methodical, intense.
"...And I would never dirty myself by dining on such a hateful, wretched body as yours."
Phoenix smiles.
"Maybe you should just let me go free, then."
The Baron rubs a finger across Phoenix's face and raises her chin with a finger.
"You know, free range is not such a bad idea."
He looks over at the officer.
"I will take this one into my possession and declare her my property."
"That is your right," the officer responds.
"Take her to Bouvier Farms. Please let the Mistress know that she is to never know pain, never know suffering, and never experience a moment of stress."
Phoenix looks on curiously, trying to understand when the other shoe will drop. The Baron begins to smile as he looks her body up and down.
"It really is too bad that you've ruined yourself with your little escapades. You could have been a fine meal if you had just been born into a different life. But luckily for both of us, I am a patient man."
Phoenix's face becomes overwhelmed with fear, and she tries to pull away as she realizes the implication.
"Yes, twenty or so years is a small time to wait. By then, I will have my first taste of your flesh. But it will not come from your body, but from one of many that you will produce for my farm."
Phoenix screams as she's dragged away, the shriek echoing through the manor.
For the first time in five years, Phoenix experiences regret over her decision to ever start the Ladies for Dolcett.
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Friday AM: Inside the Parade ->Assault]]You pull the chain through the broken link in time. You time your jump just right. You land on a stretched-out piece of plastic wrap, practically bouncing off it like a trampoline before landing a second time and catching yourself with your hands to regain your balance.
Just as you go to stand back up, the machine begins wrapping you in plastic, suffocating you as you press out with your hands to fight for space. A Styrofoam tray is placed underneath you, and the plastic continues to wrap around and around and around until you're tightly pressed in and unable to move. A sticker is placed over you to complete the wrapping, and you are placed in a crate.
You can't breathe through the plastic and you can't break it, and you slowly suffocate as the blood vessels break in your eyes. As the truck takes off to head to the Baron's banquet, you are en route - as a fully packaged, but quite dead, full roaster.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
"Please...can you wait a minute?" You hear the doomed woman say, just in front of you.
"Wait a minute?! What for?" The male assistant chef says.
"Um...I think someone might be coming...to rescue me..."
"Whatever you say." He says, slapping the girl on the ass. "I won't be around to see your rescue. I WILL be around to carry you over the flame - of which, YOU will still be around for. The Baron has it on your instructions that you're to feel what it's like to cook alive - lucky you."
"...I just need a few more minutes...please..."
A large styrofoam tray is placed on a prep table next to Zoe. She looks over and recognizes your familar face as the plastic is clipped free.
"Scarlett! I knew you'd come! I'd-"
Zoe screams as she realizes, as your head slumps over, that you are very, very dead. She watches as you're dismembered into a torso only roast - quickly gutted and stuffed as the kitchen staff race to get you into an oven.
Zoe looks back forward at the roaring flames over the spit station, knowing with certainity that she will soon cook over them.
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Conveyor Belt ->Convey 1]]The gatekeeper takes your permits and scans them, typing something on his computer. He nods and hands them back to you.
“You girls can go on ahead. I will escort the gentleman to our VIP area.”
You nod to Asher and enter the parade grounds. Phoenix begins to go over the plan one more time - but out of the corner of your eye, you notice that police are marching in formation in your direction.
“Phoenix, what is that?!” you yell out.
Phoenix looks up and sees the lines of officers eagerly slapping their nightsticks against their hands.
“Shit, we’ve been discovered. We’ve got to rush to the city center. The more of us that can make it, the more of a demonstration we can make. We can still make a difference!”
You nod as Phoenix leads the charge. You stand by and wave, encouraging all of the LFD to run past you. You commit yourself to bringing up the rear, helping any woman who falls behind, whether by force or encouragement, to continue on.
As the last of the LFD women run past you, you step forward to run behind them. Just as you do, a rope circles around your body and is then pulled taut. Your body is flown into the air and dragged to the ground. As you look up, you see the parade gatekeeper has lassoed you and is dragging you across the hot asphalt back toward him.
You try to squirm, but he is able to wrangle you just like a steer. You suffer road burn as he slowly drags you right underneath his feet.
He holds his boot on your head as you watch helplessly as the LFD are subdued one after another. None of them ever make it to the town square, and the entire demonstration is for naught.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
You're still coiled in rope as you sit on the couch of the officer who captured you. He quickly made a handshake deal that he would bring you home as a reward for his patriotism, having recognized your out-of-date parade permits and cued the rest of the force to move in.
It's a very strange feeling, sitting like a guest on someone's couch while they make preparations to eat you. As you sit there, the news you had hoped would be about the LFD changing the world is instead about the thwarted terrorist plot to ruin the nation's biggest holiday.
You watch as the surviving members of the LFD are marched off to the town square, just as they had hoped to reach, but in this instance, to be slaughtered. Phoenix, Blueberry, Zoe, and Puma are all there, being led in chains to be executed, and then, eaten.
Your fate will not be very different as you're marched over to a hand-dug fire pit with two spit posts just at the sides. Two men eagerly wave you over, and as you climb up, you’re laid on your stomach, covered in cooking oil, and your spit is lined up with the entrance to your vagina.
Just as you’re about to be skewered alive, one of the wives leans down to whisper in your ear.
“I just wanted to say thank you.”
You look up and realize that, even in your failure, the LFD’s effort to try and do something on this day may have inspired at least one person.
“You don't have to thank—”
“No, I really do. You see, my husband was planning on splitting me today. I had agreed to it, of course, but I REALLY didn't want to. And thanks to you, well I get to live another year.”
You smile. At the very least, you’ve saved one life. And that could lead to-
“It was nice of you to go and do something so stupid. You really saved my bacon,” she says with a laugh as begins mixing a potato salad you’ll be served with.
As you look away from her in disgust, you feel the spit begin to enter your body. You close your eyes and try to bite down as the sharp tip of the metallic rod stretches your vagina, threatening to break through your inner wall. Your body does its best to fend it off, but hot human flesh is no match for cold steel.
You scream out in pain as you feel the spit break through your feminine wall and press just past your organs. Every inch is an agonizing reminder of your defeat. The pain becomes overwhelming as every part of your body tenses up, your pores screaming out with a need to get away.
But, the spit continues to press through you, carving away any identity you had as Scarlett Sky and leaving you a conquered Scarlett Spit Roast.
You feel the onset of death just as the spit begins to pass into your throat, and the same woman who’s live you saved pulls your head back by your hair to line your head into position.
"Don't worry,” she whispers. “I'll make sure you taste delicious. It’s the least I can do."
As you see the tip of your spit press through your lips, your eyes cross at the nose just as you drift away. As you’re carried over the coals, the Dolcett Day guests mock you for the stupefying expression of defeat locked forever on your face.
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Friday AM: Parade Entrance ->D Day Parade]]Leikr races in, eager to slam his fist directly into your jaw. You note that you have time for one taunt, which should throw him off and give you an opportunity to land the first blow.
"The only legend that ends here is yours," you begin. "Your legacy is a house of cards that will tumble down the minute you crash down onto the cement at my hands. You're pathe-"
You realize your verbal jab did not slow him down, and your hands are too slow to react as he breaks your jaw with a brutal left hook, your body crashing down in a heap. You try and use your hand to press your jaw back into place, but the light over your head is obscured by Leikr's boot hovering just over head.
"This is where your story ends." Leikr grows as his drives his foot down, snapping your spine at the neck.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
"I sure don't feel like I fit in here, boss."
"Yeah, well, just keep your head down, son. This is an honor."
"Yeah, but you know there are a lot of these uh aristocrats around us, and I'm just a boy from the country."
"Well, if you EVER want to be somebody from the city, you've got to blend in here. So, like I said, keep your head down, and for the love of God-."
"THERE THEY ARE!"
Leikr points at the two officers with a large bone, YOUR bone, as he uses your femur as a baton. The officers feel every eye on them from the richest people in Dolcett, those who pine for Leikr's approval and pay him handsomely for his appearances. They stare curiously at the local law enforcement officers who were brought to this otherwise exclusive event.
The officers stand with their mouths open as they try to process what to say or do.
"Your gaping expressions are exactly, I think, how we all felt on Dolcett Day.” Leikr begins, tapping your femur against his shoulder. “We were all in shock when a woman—multiple women—tried to take over our fine country and disrupt our peace and harmony."
Boos and snickers are heard from the crowd.
"But, thanks to myself, we were all saved from such a vile terrorist act. But there are other people here who deserve credit, and it is indeed our boys in blue. Let's give them a hand, shall we?"
A smattering of applause is given, and drinks are raised as the two police officers nod cautiously and smile while photos are taken.
"This is going pretty good, boss. I'd say they like us."
"Let's keep it that way. Just smile for the photos."
"Yes, I think we can all agree that as long as the police are always acting in MY best interest—excuse me, our best interests, which are one and the same—the world is a better place, is it not?"
Despite Leikr's question being rhetorical, he looks to the officers for a response.
"Um... Yes, sir. I can say the police here stand for anything that you choose to do, Mister Leikr, Sir.”
"You said it right, boss. He sure represents me."
Leikr smiles as his control over the law in Dolcett is solidified with your defeat. A plate is brought over to him with cuts of sliced meat, cooked rare. He holds the plate up high to gather the attention of his assembled guests and smiles as he taps his cheek.
"This is from the very mouth, jaw, and neck of the woman who boasted so loudly about what she thought was the true purpose of life. She's not talking so big now, is she?"
Everyone laughs as he picks up a portion of your cheek and slides it into his mouth.
He chews loudly and waves your femur around to invoke cheers. Your cheeks, the part of your mouth that expressed yourself, potentially the core of who you were as a crusader, a leader, and a woman, are now being slowly chewed up and digested by a man who has worked tirelessly to cut down any woman who ever tries to break through HIS glass ceiling.
Shortly after, plates are passed around with various cuts of your body, with each officer receiving a ribeye steak dinner.
"That's the damn finest-looking steak I ever seen."
"I'm digging in, boss."
Leikr ends his night by noting to himself that he'll hang your femur over his bed as a constant reminder to never stop scratching his itch for conquest.
"...or to just scratch my back. As that is ALL you are after tonight, Scarlett Sky. My personal back scratcher."
****************
[[Checkpoint: Friday, City Center ->Duel One]]She releases her hand and you feel yourself submerge into the boiling water. The pain and pressure on your now exoskeleton is intense, with you screeching out in agony as you writhe and boil alive. You hear Abutit's laughter through the roaring water, the sound only changing as the lid is placed over the pot, sealing you inside.
"I need butter..." You hear her say, as the intensity of the heat convinces you that you are absolutely boiling alive, your shell turning a red just as your tail starts to go still. You somehow know that your meat inside is still tender, and will be delicious when she cracks your shell and scoops your insides out. Your last moment is a slight shudder as you feel an orgasm go through your now bright red body, sealing your fate and fantasy as a lobster dinner come true.
In just a few moments, you will be served as Abutit's seafood supper.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Just as you feel your body succumb, you feel something else being pulled from inside of you as well. It's almost like your essence is being dragged out of your body.
In your final seconds, you feel your consciousness itself, instead of evaporating and drifting away, being pulled by some malevolent force toward the witch. You don't know how to process or understand what's happening, as it is unlike any other sensory experience you've ever had. You are still yourself, and yet, you are no longer a part of your body.
Your spirit settles into what feels like some type of container. Whatever has happened, you feel restrained in wherever you now dwell, and you know one thing with absolute certainty.
This feels very, verry unnatural. You don't know what you believe about the afterlife, but you know you've been prevented from accessing it. You are now a prisoner in a dark place, your soul also being feasted on, a feeeling you wish you had never, ever experienced.
*************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs AM, Mysterious Wood ->The Mysterious Wood]]Your eyes widen as her body races down, all of her force in her blade as you quickly roll to one side.
You only make it to your stomach before you feel her blade pierce you through the heart, pinning you to the forest floor.
“Ugkkkk!” you utter, the sound of the wind being knocked out of your chest as you lie pinned in defeat.
“No...” Zoe laments. “Scarlett...”
“YES. I HAVE WON. I HAD ALWAYS WON - BUT NOW THERE CAN BE NO DOUBT. EVERYTHING IS AS IT SHOULD BE!”
Puma’s words echo through the Sleeping Willow Forest, which offers no response. You only have seconds to live, and you feel your joints getting stiffer with every passing second. Soon, your tendons go as stiff as the bones they connect to, and you are as silent as the wood around you.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
"What happens to me now?"
Zoe feels selfish even asking as she watches Puma unscrew the top of an antique, cast-iron pressure cooker. Puma is careful as she loads portions of your neck, wrists, ankles, knees, and tailbone into the pot. She then adds just enough water to keep your portions moist and places the lid back on top, the antique locking mechanism attaching at adjacent sides and secured by twisting a valve at the top.
Puma licks her lips as she strains her muscles to tighten the seal, ensuring a proper and even cook.
"I offer you the same deal that I offered her. We will have a hunt at sunrise. If you are able to survive until sundown, you’ll be free to go."
She places the cast iron pot over a campfire, hanging it by a chain that she has suspended from a tree. Your meat cooks for hours, until the pot literally begins to squeal into the forest, smoke billowing out. As she unscrews the lid, your pressured cooked flesh is piping hot as she serves you on a large plate.
You are cooked so tender that she's able to grab your joints from the center of your flesh and pull them from your flesh, sucking your juices off the bone before setting them aside.
"I was supposed to get married..."
"And you will, Zoe. That's the beauty of it. Either you will go home and be wed, or we will all be married together in my stomach. The forest will decide whether our destiny is to lie apart…or together.”
*********************
[[Checkpoint: Friday PM, Sleeping Willow Forest ->Puma Battle Intro]]Step by step, second by second, Puma gets closer. You wait until she's one step away from meeting you, and then take the initiative and lead with a lunging stab forward.
As soon as you step forward, your wounded leg nearly buckles, and the pain is so overwhelming you feel your hand get weak. Puma slashes your Chanir out of your hand, the blade flying off in the direction of the sun, disappearing into the sunset.
You turn to see her place a hand your shoulder and line up her blade with your throat. You grab her wrist with both hands, but do not have any strength left to stop her as she is able to press her blade into your neck, through your spine, and out the other side.
"...the forest has spoken..." Puma says, relief in her voice, the trial over.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
"There's one last thing I don't understand."
Puma hangs a cast-iron bowl-like pan that will catch your drippings as she cooks your ribs, cut from your body as a full prime rib roast, over the fire.
"And what is that, little Zoe?"
Puma begins to knead a thick paste of seasonings she’s blended from the natural plants from her homeland, along with some of her favorite sauces and seasonings from North Carolina, to create a marinade that is a combination of your and her tastes. She's careful and precise as she packs the sludgy, oily, thick sauce all over your flesh, taking her time to rub her fingers between the bones of your ribs. She also crusts the outside, ensuring that you’re practically dripping with flavor before she looks over to the fire, the flames dancing in invitation to sear your flesh.
"Scarlett was your friend. I saw the way you two acted together. She was someone you respected, maybe even admired, and yet you killed her."
"I did."
Puma says this as she walks your rib roast over to the fire and presses a metal hook through your flesh, between two ribs, leaving your roast to hang over the bowl-like pan. The flames rise around it, cooking your flesh both from both the heat rising up and the flames that harden the crust around your roast.
"What kind of friend eats their friend?"
Puma smiles as your drippings collect in the pan underneath, the liquid from your fat, flesh, and tendons slowly rising to a boil in the cast-iron dripping pan.
"Scarlett is still my friend. Scarlett will always be my friend. But friendship is not as deep as the story of the forest. Our fates were intertwined here. I made a commitment to her, as someone I loved, that one day we would settle our fates here in this place, as they always should have been."
Puma takes a ladle and scoops up some of the boiling liquid that has dripped from your body, then begins to ladle it over the top, providing an extra layer of moisture to your prime rib as it cooks.
"But the forest had already decided. Can't you understand that? The forest chose Scarlett to live, and yet you forced her to come back here to die."
Puma sits for a minute and contemplates what Zoe says.
"It's possible that you're right. It's possible that I misunderstood the forest. That the story was that we were supposed to grow together, not as part of one another."
Silence overtakes the woods as the fire crackles beneath your roast, the drippings still boiling underneath. Minutes pass without a word, and not even a gust of wind stirs through the forest, nor does a sound come from any nearby animal or bird.
"But that doesn't matter now. I will go forward the way my people always have. For hundreds of years, my kind would fight in this tradition, for one to be strengthened by the other."
Puma ladles up more of your boiling drippings and pours them over your flesh, watching as your rib roast turns golden brown, soon ready to eat.
"I will eat Scarlett, and she will become part of me. And then I will go on hunting women as I always have to continue to build myself. This is the only way forward for me."
Puma grabs a chef’s knife and begins to sharpen it, eager to begin cracking off your ribs and chewing the meat from the bone. Zoe hangs quietly for hours as you’re cooked over open flame. When you’re a perfect rare cook, Puma brings your rib roast over to a carving table and begins to slice the ribs off one by one, her mouth literally salivating at the texture of your flesh. As she picks up her first rib, she takes a moment to savor the moment before ripping her first bite from the bone.
She moans so loudly that it echoes through the woods, with the forest offering no response. Some of your juices drip down her chin, and she uses a finger to lap them back into her mouth, nodding her head.
"Five years of waiting. Five years of training. You almost even won again this time. But finally, finally...
...I'm eating you in the forest. Just like I always should have."
*********************
[[Checkpoint: Friday PM, Sleeping Willow Forest ->Puma Battle Intro]]hasDee:false
--
There are two emotions that cause human beings to act so irrationally that they can cease to be themselves.
One is love.
The other is lust.
It may seem that other emotions, like anger or fear, can also drive someone to act out of character, against their own well-being, or outside their right mind, but those are just responses - manifested through love and lust.
The two emotions that can drive us for minutes, hours, weeks, or years before we can finally see beyond them and look back at what we've become.
That is, if it's not too late.
And if we can look back at it all.
Which of these two emotions will consume you?
*********************************
You haven't been able to sleep in the dark in a long time. For several years, in fact, you've only been able to sleep in the light. There's something soothing about a warm glow surrounding you that allows your mind and body to come to rest.
The downside is that when you sleep in the afternoon, you lose awareness of what time of day it is when you awaken.
*Is it morning? Is it night? Did I oversleep for work? Where am I?*
As you begin to shift yourself awake, you feel that your body is stiffer than usual. You're having trouble getting your arms and legs to move. It's almost as though they're secured in place, and as you continue to press through, your muscles strain as you push your weighted blanket off of you.
The weighted blanket that keeps the nightmares away.
But there's something else that's on you, holding you in place. As you try to open your eyes, you notice it's brighter in the place where you're lying than it should be. You don't keep an overhead light above your bed, insisting on just one small lamp, as it mirrors more of a candle, a flame...
...an oven.
As you force your eyes open and see the fluorescent light above you, you suddenly realize that you are not in your bed, as you expected. And if you're not in your bed, hen you realize that you aren't being held down by a blanket.
As you look at your arms and legs, you realize you're being held down by...
...twine. Roasting twine.
Your body begins to shift in a panic as you realize you're in a roasting pan—perfectly fitted to your size, your body trussed and ready to be slid into an oven. You've got to do something before whoever has placed you in this position comes back.
[[Press against your binds, trying to quietly tear yourself free and sneak away. -> Dream 2]]
[[Yell as loud as you can. It’ll bring attention to you, but you can’t stand this a moment longer. ->Dream Ends A]]You watch her draw her blade back, but remember she's been leading with strikes. You feign defense toward your stomach, and, as expected, she unwraps your arm and tries to elbow you in the jaw first. You're able to lean your head back to dodge just in time, then crash your forehead into her jaw, causing her to stagger back.
"That's using your head, Scarlett!" Zoe cheers. "Stand your ground!"
"That close, Scarlett. THAT CLOSE. And YOU..." Puma says as she points her Chanir at Zoe. "…are next."
"I don't think so. Scarlett has able to save me ALL week. What's one more challenge for a hero?!"
As you see Puma become distracted by Zoe, you rush in and grab her by the wrist, twisting her arm behind her back as you knee her twice in the ribs. She turns and swipes, but you're able to maintain your grip on her wrist as you press against her for leverage.
"There's no reason to hate me.” You plea. “There's more to us than just that one day five years ago. It doesn't matter who won or lost—"
"OF COURSE IT MATTERS! IT'S ALL THAT HAS EVER MATTERED TO ME!"
Puma pulls her arm back loosely, then quickly, to break your grip. As soon as her arm is free, she slashes toward your neck, with your blade meeting hers to block.
"I will prove that I never lost—to YOU and to every being that has ever inhabited this forest. Then you will become a part of me. That is the only outcome! The only way!"
Puma slides her blade off yours and spins in a circle, lowering her center of gravity as she kicks her leg out, sweeping your feet out from under you and knocking you onto your back. You look up to see her standing over you as she throws her Chanir into the air, catching it like an ice pick, and dives down.
[[Raise a foot up to block her diving blade. Then dive on top of her and end this. ->Puma 3]]
[[Roll out of the way to avoid her diving blade. Then slash at her leg to limit her mobility. ->Pressure cooked joint stew]]
[[Raise a foot up to block her diving blade. Then slash at her leg to limit her mobility. ->Zoe Hunted]]
[[Roll out of the way to avoid her diving blade. Then dive on top of her and end this. ->Pressure cooked joint stew]]You're able to meet her diving attack with a foot to her chest just as she's about to stab through you, launching her off her feet and onto her back. You dive forward and lunge, trying to finish her, but she blocks your arm with her foot, shoves you back, and circles back to her feet. You quickly get back to yours as well.
"Are you turned on yet, Scarlett? Don't you want to be feel what it's like to be cut open by my blade?"
"Fuck you," you yell back, with just a hint of yearning in your voice.
"You're going to cum to it, aren't you? I'm going to give you one last orgasm as I skewer you alive, and then...I'm going to turn the part of your body that you've spent so many years tenderizing...."
Puma points her Chanir towards your cunt.
"...into a perfect fall apart roast that I'm going to tear apart and eat with my fingers."
You feel a rush of arousal, and barely notice how quickly she's moved as she slices at your achilles. You're able to launch yourself over her back just in time. As you turn your head, she kicks you right in the chest, leaving you laying on your back - with your legs over your head.
Puma just laughs.
"That's right. I've said it all along - your horniness to be eaten would be your downfall. And now, look at you, on your back, legs spread, BEGGING to be penetrated. Well, let the edge of my blade be the object to bring an end to your lifetime of gooning."
[[Goodness. You're on your back, legs spread, and Puma is coming with a blade. Is there any better way to go than this? ->Puma mindbreak 2]]
[[You've got to get a hold of yourself. Sure, this is hot, but Zoe's life is hanging in the balance. ->Puma mindbreak]]
[[Goodness. You're on your back, legs spread, and Puma is coming with a blade. Sure, this is hot, but Zoe's life is hanging in the balance. ->Puma mindbreak 5]]
[[You've got to get a hold of yourself. Granted, is there any better way to go than this? ->Puma mindbreak 8]]As Puma races forward, your hips raise, eager to be taken and consumed by her. You feel every part of you give in, dancing on the edge of nothingness, like you've done a hundred times before.
Just as she's about to cut you through your groin, you're able to thrust yourself back to reality - and thrust your legs down on her head, your heel crashing into her jaw. Puma's grip on her Chanir is loosened, but she's able to hang on to it by her fingertips. You rush to your knees and tackle her, both of you rolling on the ground, struggling to get position to finish the other.
You can hear the winds of the Sleeping Willow rushing around you, loudest when Puma has rolled on top, you battling from underneath. It's like the forest is cheering from you, communicating a message from place beyond words.
As Puma takes top position, she's able to overpower you, as you're no match for leverage and her raw strength. You grit your teeth as you try and hold her off, but she uses her all force to begin to drive the tip of her blade into your right thigh.
You scream out as you feel her Chanir working its way into your leg. Three inches. Four. You still have your blade in your hand, but the tip is facing in the wrong direction.
Puma's eyes are intense, shaking in her skull and wide as her nose flares at the sight of your blood. Despite her ferocity, a single tear runs down her cheek. You feel a pulse of reluctance in her body, just for a second—just long enough to do something.
"You're not nearly as decided on this as you'd like me to believe," you say.
Puma's mouth opens, desperate to give you an answer, but none comes. You're able to take advantage of her hesitation and jam the hilt of your blade into her throat, knocking the wind out of her, and then drive a knee into her eardrum so hard that the impact vibrates up your own spine.
As she rolls backward and slowly makes her way to her feet, you are already on yours, waiting. You hold your Chanir out in front of you, your right leg stepped back—bleeding, wounded, weak. Still, you stand, determined not to give up.
Puma raises her Chanir and smiles.
“You have proven yourself worthy of my training,” Puma says affectionately. “The forest is speaking to us, Scarlett. Can you hear its song?”
She points her blade to the horizon. The sun has nearly crossed over, mere moments away from disappearing as it did five years ago into whatever lies beyond. As you turn your head back, you see Zoe and realize that you’re standing in the exact spot where Puma built the fire she had planned to cook you before the fateful moment where the forest had intervened.
“The forest is telling us that the battle is over, Puma.” you assure. “It’s the same message as before. The question is—are you willing to accept that it has chosen both of us?”
Puma takes a deep breath as she continues to stare out at the horizon.
“My people believe that the gateway to the afterlife is through the rays of the setting sun,” Puma says as her gaze returns to you. “In the moment the sun crosses over, a doorway opens for a messenger to be sent to collect the honorable and bring them to rest in the forest in which we all once dwelled.”
Puma walks toward you, with no rush in her step, her blade down at her side.
“I am certain they will be sending a messenger for you, Scarlett Sky.”
You feel dizzy as you raise your blade to meet her advance, the blood loss in your leg making it clear that your ability to defend yourself is limited. You've got one more exchange with Puma in you, at best, and you've got to choose your strategy correctly.
[[Fight from the top by making the first move. Your target will be her stomach. ->Prime Rib Roast]]
[[Save your energy and try to fight from the bottom. Your target will be her neck. ->Bone broth]]
[[Fight from the top by making the first move. Your target will be her neck. ->Death of Puma]]
[[Save your energy and try to fight from the bottom. Your target will be her stomach. ->Death of Puma]]You race the engine of the truck you stole out of the city center. There are flashes of red and blue light all over the city, but just as Phoenix had said—there are more women than men in this world. They line the streets, and they march peacefully, arm in arm, toward the city center, toward a new hope, a new life, and perhaps even toward a new world.
You continue to drive toward a place far less modern. Puma had you memorize the coordinates, over and over, for years, in the event she was ever killed as your bodyguard.
The forest is speaking to us, Scarlett, calling for us to return.
As you pull into The Sleeping Willow forest, you see that Puma's truck is waiting. It's the same truck she drove you before and after a hunt that would change the course of your life. On that day, you formed a complex relationship that felt like mentor and student, but today, has boiled down to one simply outcome.
You walk, but you don't raise your guard. It isn't necessary to be afraid, as whatever Puma has planned, it is not to kill you by surprise. No, you suspect she has something far more deliberate in order.
"This is a sacred spot for us. Is it not, Scarlett?"
You recognize the tree even before you make out Puma's figure in the rapidly approaching dusk. The same tree that you hung from five years ago. The tree that was going to be the last place you ever saw until the sun set just as the blade was going to carve into your flesh. Now, from that same tree, Zoe hangs naked, watching her world turned upside down.
“Yes, there is something special about this place,” you say.
The wind picks up for a moment, the leaves dancing around you, a greeting to welcome you back for a continuation—or a conclusion—of your last encounter.
“I have waited for this moment…” Puma says. "This is Kal’Kanok. This is the tree where your fate hung in the balance. This..."
Puma's eyes scan the woods around you.
"...this is the place where the forest decided."
Puma pauses for a moment, waiting for the forest to call to her. But it remains silent.
"Scarlett..." Zoe says, the sound of her voice shaking as much as her naked body. "I'm sorry... I—"
"Don't be sorry, Zoe. There is an inevitability to all of this."
You look around and see the preparations that Puma had mentioned on Wednesday. A fire pit has been dug. There is an ancient cast-iron pressure cooker waiting. A portable fireplace is stacked with logs, it’s smokestack ready to billow. A hand-carved wooden table has been staged.
And one round, bowl-like pan, ready to catch your drippings, beckons.
“For years, I have wondered about that decision. Did the forest REALLY choose you over me? Or was it just luck?” Puma continues. “Today, we settle the question. You are finally ready.”
"So... you've watched over me all these years just to hunt more one more time…is that it?"
"Not just watched over you, Scarlett Sky of North Carolina, but trained you. Hardened you. I've bestowed upon you every technique that I know. I have left NOTHING to chance or uncertainty—we will dance together, here, as mirror images in combat."
Puma slowly draws her Chanir out of her left hip pocket.
"One of us will leave here, and the other will depart in the victor's stomach. THIS is the way of my people, for hundreds of years..."
You slowly reach behind you, your hand gripping the blade you found in the city center. Your stance widens, your breath deepens, but your eyes wander to Zoe.
"It didn't have to be this way," you lament. "You don’t have to put Zoe at all this risk. You brought her here, and to do that, you would've had to team up with Char—"
"There is MUCH you do not yet understand," Puma says, interjecting, her frustration building. "I did not set the wheels in motion; I simply seized the opportunity that was at hand. This journey was an evaluation of my training, and this morning, you passed the final test."
You try to process what Puma is trying to tell you, but you can't take your eyes off Zoe.
"Alright. I'll give you what you want—but you have to let Zoe go. That's my condition."
Puma smiles as she walks over to Zoe, allowing her blade to tease and scratch down Zoe's naked flesh.
"Mmmmmmph." Zoe pouts, her breath soft and gasping.
"Zoe has become necessary for our battle..." Puma says, taking a finger to trace a bead of Zoe's sweat and placing it in her mouth."
"How could that be true?"
"I suspect...you might need a little more motivation than your own life. I’m sure you’ve fantasized about this scenario once or twice.”
“A few times," you say, deciding to keep the true number to yourself.
“Then, saving your own life may not be motivation enough to ensure that you're giving me your absolute best. Know this - WHEN I am victorious, and I've had my fill of you, I vow that I will dine upon her flesh next."
“Eep,” Zoe's voice creaks out.
“I can’t let you do that, Puma. Neither of us is innocent, here, but SHE is. I've come to far to just let her die.”
“GOOD. Then let this be my final lesson to you. If you really are intent on saving the girl, then you’ll have to learn to kill a friend.”
A gust of wind ruffles the trees, and for a moment, there is silence as leaves spin in a circle. Then, they are swept away into the ether.
“The forest has spoken. It has asked us to begin. Remember your training. Remember all the things that I’ve taught you—you’ll need more than one strategy in each round to survive this. Make this interesting, at the very least, and bring me death if you really can.”
********************************
The setting sun hangs in the background as you extend your knife toward Puma. She steps back, smiles, and lunges forward, wasting no time as she begins her assault. She launches a flurry of palm strikes, two of which you're able to block with your forearm. A third punch you're able to deflect downward with your wrist, and you slide your hips back just as she's about to slice you open at the navel.
There'll be none room for mistakes in this battle.
“You were never better than me. Never…” Puma protests.
“It’s not about being better. We’re friends. We’re equals.”
“You could never be my equal.”
Puma throws two jabs in your direction. You block both, and quickly rush your knife forward. She dodges, wraps her arm around yours, and pulls her knife back, ready to strike.
[[Anticipate her next move is to stab you. Block, push her back, and plead for her to stop. ->Carnitas]]
[[Anticipate her next move is to strike you. Block, push her back, and plead for her to stop. ->Leg Shank B]]
[[Anticipate her next move is to stab you. Block, look for an opening, and fight back. ->Carnitas]]
[[Anticipate her next move is to strike you. Block, look for an opening, and fight back. ->Puma 2]]You fight your way through your own overwhelming desire to see him unzipping his pants, his rather large, erect cock flopping out of his jeans. You watch as he lines it up with the entrance to your pussy and just as your eyes are about to close, you realize your opening and focus your energy in your right glute.
Just as he's about to penetrate you and break any willpower you have left to remain on this Earth, you kick him as hard as you can in his groin. Leikr makes a strange sound, like all of the air in his lungs was popped like a ballon from inside of him, and he shrivels up and falls over next to you, quivering in pain. You lay on the ground for a moment, trying to collect yourself as well.
You slowly stand up, not taking an eye off of him, even as he lays on the ground, shaking, holding his cock. You still haven't caught your breath, and you press your dress extra firmly against your thighs, in some gesture to try and cover up what just happened between the two of you.
"For the record, I do fantasize about being conquered. But, I know where the line is between fantasy and reality, and if I'm ever eaten, it would NEVER be by someone like you."
You kick him in the ribs for good measure. Leikr slowly rolls over, pulls his pants up, and staggers his way to his feet.
"You really are an incredible woman, Scarlett." He says as he spits blood out of his mouth. "So, I would like to say, good match, and I think I've learned my lesson. You'd make a fine trophy, but no quarry is worth my life. You won't be seeing me again."
You nod and carefully step backwards, until you've got enough of a lead that you can turn around and hastily finish walking down the bridge.
Leikr waits until you are just at the edge of the bridge, not looking back, before he bends down and pulls his left pant leg up, drawing out a small pistol he has holstered at his ankle.
"You won't be seeing me again because you won't be seeing anything but the inside of my den." Leikr hisses as he aims towards the center of your back.
Just before he fires, a blade strikes the gun, causing him to misfire. You turn around to see it is a Chanir, twirling up into the sky, and look down to see Puma racing towards Leikr. She meets him with a hip thrust to his gut, but as she reaches up to grab her Chanir before it touches the ground, you realize she's out of position.
You race back as fast as you can, and just as Leikr is able to steady himself and aims the gun at Puma's chest, you're able to shove him with body hands. He stumbles backwards, crashing into the lip of the bridge, and tumbles over the side.
You look over and watch as he falls. Twenty feet. Thirty feet. Forty. A splash.
Three bubbles in the water.
And then, nothing.
You look over at Puma, who has joined you to watch, as she sheathes her blade.
"Do you think think he's-"
"What were you thinking letting your guard down like that, Scarlett?"
"...you were watching the whole time, weren't you?"
"Yes." Puma says. "I had faith in you."
"Then why did you get involved?"
"Because there is honor in combat, and at that moment, he had none. This is my final lesson to you, Q'lanar - in battle, you see who someone truly is. You have to accept whatever is communicated to you and act accordingly. You must be prepared to go all the way - to killing someone - even someone close to you - if you're going to survive the quest you've taken on."
"...I don't know if I have what it takes to kill again, Puma."
"Leikr would not have spared you the same courtosy. Either would Charlene. You are NOT ready yet, despite all my training." Puma sighs with a sigh. "He was even able to use your greatest weakness against you."
"I don't have any weaknesses." You shoot back as you press your dress down again.
"Your LUST is your weakness, Scarlett. You think you can just pretend that you don't crave to be eaten and that's enough, but it will NEVER be enough. You have to find a way to master your desires, or your desires will become your master."
"I guess I'm lucky his hands aren't as good as Charlene's. There's not a woman alive that didn't break instantly once she got her fingers inside them."
"...No sign of her?" Puma says, staring off into the distance.
"None. And yet..."
"Yet?"
"She's got to be here, somewhere. I can sense it."
"Do you sense it, or crave it?"
"...Both."
Puma stands in front of you and offers her forearm. You clasp it at the wrist, and you touch foreheads. For just a few seconds, everything is normal again.
As Puma releases you, she turns and walks off the bridge.
"Puma, you're here now. Let's go save Zoe together."
"I have somewhere that calls to me, to us both," Puma says, her voice growing fainter as she walks away. "Tell me you remember the place."
"14.56 by 7.00. The Sleeping Willow Forest. You've made me memorize it, among other things," you respond.
"Yes. I head now to Kal’Kanok. There are preparations to make."
"Preparations?"
"For when your training is complete. Remember what I said: remain true to yourself, and there will come a time when we will fight together."
[[Advance to: - Wed Afternoon ->Subj 1]]https://www.facebook.com/share/r/1E23tqZowN/
https://www.facebook.com/share/r/193HQKCX18/
Puma Fire Pit Ribeye
https://www.facebook.com/reel/1325713986070017
Skinned and smoked
https://www.facebook.com/reel/1443890341113605
Full roasted
https://www.facebook.com/share/r/14kjjt9KCYs/
Cooked in ground:
https://www.facebook.com/share/r/1ETVAv5BqL/
Bone and steak
https://www.facebook.com/reel/1693918725120978
Why would you do this? Denial - Bone with shank (leg)
What happens to me? Anger - Cast iron pot (neck, joints)
Sex was her weakesss - bargaining - underground (cunt w rump)
Some lore about her people, Zoe confronts as hypocritical Depression - Skinned and smoked (back)
Wasn't she your friend? Acceptance - Fire Pit Ribeye (Ribs))Puma throws one of her blades into the shoulder of the nearest guard, who drops from the impact. A second blade flies past the face of another, and as he turns his head, he is met with her flying fist.
Puma does not turn around to handle the other two, making sure to focus on restraining the two she has wounded. As she turns her head around, she still sees Zoe cowering on the floor.
"Not as much of a warrior as I'd have hoped..." Puma mutters to herself.
Puma turns and sweeps the leg of the third guard, but as she leaps to knee the lead guard in the nose, a Taser clamps into her side, dropping her to the floor.
Puma presses her hands against the ground and rises back to her feet, fighting off the Taser even as the electricity courses through her body. She's able to take two steps forward before she succumbs, her body quivering violently on the ground as she continues to fight for every second she remains conscious.
Smoke rises off her broken body when the taser finally stops.
GAME OVER. PUMA WAS EATEN.
Epilogue:
“Now, you HAVE to admit, you have been a pain in my neck for SO long. That’s why you were worth the price to bail you out of your execution.”
Puma Catori soaks in a bag that is wrapped tightly around her body. The water temperature, using the sous vide-style cooking method, is exact, with a thermometer hanging nearby. Sweat runs down her forehead as she continues to deny her predicament—or her nemesis—any pleasure.
“I have nothing to say to you,” Puma retorts.
“Yes, SUCH a thorn in my side. Always watching over Scarlett, intimidating me with those thick, juicy muscles... I told you the first day we met that I had a cooking method just for you, didn’t I?”
Puma only tries to squeeze her shoulders out of the bag in response.
“Yes, I’ve wanted to eat you for years. YEARS, darling. It’s a different type of affair entirely than I have with Scarlett. Hers is more... intimate, emotional, loving. With you, it’s a matter of establishing dominance. You are big and strong, sure, but you pale in comparison to me in terms of sheer force.”
“Up for debate.”
“Is it? Because from where I’m sitting, you’re cooking in my pot, and you’re going in my stomach. It’s game over for you, huntress bodyguard, and I’ve set your bath to keep you going for days. Did you hear me? It’ll take DAYS for those muscle fibers to loosen. And once they do...”
Charlene rubs her stomach.
“Right into my stomach to be digested. You should be proud to become part of another strong woman.”
"You're not strong. You're a snake that slithers through the shadows. If I could just get out of this pot..."
"You'd what? Fight me with all your brute strength? Use those thick thighs to pin me down and choke me out? Sounds like a good time to me. Why don't you try?"
Charlene pulls out her phone and deactivates the pressure on the sous vide machine that keeps the bag tightly wrapped around Puma's body. It slowly loosens, and Puma wiggles her shoulders free.
"Your arrogance is your weakness," Puma growls.
Puma struggles to lift one arm to the lip of the pot, and then the other. She tries to lift herself out of the water, but she doesn't have the lower-body strength, and she splashes back down. She tries to press down with her thighs but finds her quads feel like Jello.
"No..." Puma laments with defeat in her voice.
"Oh, you were saying? Who's arrogant now? It's like I said—a few hours in a slow cooker would work WONDERS on that Amazonian body of yours. And guess what?"
Puma looks up, showing fear for the first time. Charlene's face lights up at the expression, her grin wider than ever.
"Your quads are already meat. You're fucking DINNER, Puma Catori, and there's nothing you can do about it."
Charlene tucks Puma's arms back into the sous vide bag, one by one, then waits to use Puma's limp finger to press the button on her phone to reactivate the bag's tightening mechanism and seal Puma back in place.
"YOU still need a day or two to be as tender as I'm looking for. That's okay—I have some Scarlett leftovers I'm going to heat up. Gosh, darling, she was just DIVINE."
"You didn't..."
"Oh, but I did. I even broke her before the end, and she BEGGED to be roasted in my oven. I even made her a special pan for the occasion."
Puma lowers her head.
"I don't expect I'll break you before the end. But it's fitting. I’m going to enjoy tasting the reluctance in those broken muscles of yours."
Charlene laughs as she walks out and closes the door, leaving Puma to cook slowly in the dark.
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Friday AM: Inside the Parade ->Assault]]MINDBREAK
[[OH GOD SHES GOT ME ON MY FUCKING BACK ->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[THIS IS IT ->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[THIS IS SO IT ->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[THIS IS EXACTLY HOW IT WAS FIVE YEARS AGO->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[IN PUMAS FOREST->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[BROKEN->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[HER COMING FOR MY LIFE ->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[AND IM COMING->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[AND OMG IF SHE CUTS ME OPEN->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[IM GOING TO ORGASM->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[AND GOSH THERES SO MANY WAYS SHE CAN COOK ME HERE->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[ITS SUCH A CAMPSITE VIBE->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[IM GOING TO BE DELICIOUS->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[SHES GOING TO EAT ME WITH HER FINGERS->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[LITERALLY A FALL APART ROAST->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[PICKED APART->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[MY MEAT SLIDING OFF->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[HER SUCKING MY JUICES OFF HER FINGERS->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[IVE FOUGHT SO LONG->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[EDGED SO LONG->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[ACHED SO LONG->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[WHY CANT IT BE HERS->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[I WANT PUMA TO COOK MY CUNT->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[I WANT HER TO TEAR MY PUSSY APART->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[WITH HER FINGERS->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[AND EAT ME PIECE BY PIECE->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[PUMA CAN WIN->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[PUMA CAN EAT ME->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[I WILL BE A PART OF HER TRADITION->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[AND LIFE->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[AND I WILL GO ON AS PART OF HER->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[BUT REALLY SHES GOING TO ROAST MY FUCKING CUNT->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[ROAST MY FUCKING SOAKING CUNT->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[SHE CALLED IT SO TENDER AND SO JUICY->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[ZOE WILL BE NEXT IF I DONT DO SOMETHING->Puma 4]]-[[AND SHES RIGHT->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[SHES SO RIGHT->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[ALL I DO IS MASSAGE->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[AND 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Roast]]-[[I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[PUMA CAN WIN->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[PUMA CAN EAT ME->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[I WILL BE A PART OF HER TRADITION->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[AND LIFE->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[AND I WILL GO ON AS PART OF HER->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[BUT REALLY SHES GOING TO ROAST MY FUCKING CUNT->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[ROAST MY FUCKING SOAKING CUNT->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[SHE CALLED IT SO TENDER AND SO JUICY->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[ZOE WILL BE NEXT IF I DONT DO SOMETHING->Puma 4]]-[[AND SHES RIGHT->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[SHES SO RIGHT->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[ALL I DO IS MASSAGE->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[AND KNEAD->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[AND TENDERIZE MY FLESH DOWN THERE->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[IM SUCH A WHORE->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[ACHING CRAVING->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[FOR HER TO STICK ME WITH HER KNIFE->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[GOD I WANT TO FEEL IT->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[I WANT TO FEEL WHAT ITS LIKE TO KNOW THAT PUMA WILL EAT 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Roast]]-[[I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[PUMA CAN WIN->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[PUMA CAN EAT ME->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[I WILL BE A PART OF HER TRADITION->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[AND LIFE->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[AND I WILL GO ON AS PART OF HER->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[BUT REALLY SHES GOING TO ROAST MY FUCKING CUNT->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[ROAST MY FUCKING SOAKING CUNT->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[SHE CALLED IT SO TENDER AND SO JUICY->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[ZOE WILL BE NEXT IF I DONT DO SOMETHING->Puma 4]]-[[AND SHES RIGHT->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[SHES SO RIGHT->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[ALL I DO IS MASSAGE->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[AND KNEAD->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[AND TENDERIZE MY FLESH DOWN THERE->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[IM SUCH A WHORE->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[ACHING CRAVING->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[FOR HER TO STICK ME WITH HER KNIFE->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[GOD I WANT TO FEEL IT->Pelvis Buried Roast]]-[[I WANT TO FEEL WHAT ITS LIKE TO KNOW THAT PUMA WILL EAT 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}, 23_000);Puma's left hand slams into your nose, knocking you backward as your face swells and eyes water.
"What the hell are you doing, Scarlett? Can you not read? I said, block my right hand, not my left hand. It's as simple as that. You read the text carefully, and you make the obvious safe choice. If you can't do that, you might as well let me snuff you right now, as it's better you let me be the one to eat you than some random man on your first day."
You don't respond, and raise your hands again to defend yourself.
"Let's try again. I'm going to throw a punch. It's going to be with my left hand. You should prepare to block my left hand, otherwise, it's going to hurt."
[[Defend her right hand. ->Punched 2]]
[[Defend her left hand. ->Tutorial Deduction]]Puma's left hand slams into your nose again, knocking you nearly off your feet as your face begins to swell up.
"Are you trying to get me to kill you? Is that it? Listen, if you don't defend yourself properly this time, I'm going to hit you so hard you'll be unconscious. And I fucking promise you, if you do that, I'm going to kill and eat your ass on principle."
Jenna gasps.
"Scarlett, please. Just block her left hand..." Jenna says.
You don't respond, and raise your hands again to defend yourself.
"Let's try again. I'm going to throw a punch. It's going to be with my left hand. You should prepare to block my left hand, otherwise, it's going to hurt."
[[Defend her right hand. ->Punched 3]]
[[Defend her left hand. ->Tutorial Deduction]]Puma's left hand lands with such impact on your nose that the bone snaps, knocking you literally off your feet. You float in the air for a second before the back of your head lands on the tile floor first, further scrambling your consciousness and nearly knocking you clean out.
You look up through blurry vision as Puma stands over you, but can't make out her facial expression.
"Five years. I've spent five years training you for this moment and you can't even fucking read. I don't know what's more pathetic - that you can't read or that I ever lost to someone like you in the first place."
You see her blurry image get closer and feel her hands grip your head and neck.
"Oh well, I'm going to right that wrong, since you've left me no choice. Did you figure it out now, Scarlett?"
She snaps your neck, the sound echoing through the office. Jenna stands horrified at the scene and blankly looks over at your desk, which is now hers.
"Doesn't matter now. It's dinner time, and Scarlett Sky is finally on the menu."
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
"I... can't believe she didn't fight back," Jenna says, walking over to your body, a vacant stare in her eyes. "I can't believe she just let it happen like that. Is the same thing going to happen to me?" she says in Puma's direction, but with something—or rather, someone—else entirely on her mind.
"That's not my problem," Puma says as she shrugs and kneels down, hefting you over her shoulder. "You are in charge of SkyCorp now. I think we both know you already know what you're going to do."
Puma stands and stares at Jenna, letting the uncomfortable silence linger for a while.
"As for me, well, I'm going to take her back to my hotel, get her portioned and on ice, and take her home. She'll be roasted in the forest tomorrow,, just like she always was meant to be. I would've preferred more of a fight, but... it was always going to end like this."
"What do you mean, it was always going to end like this?" Jenna says.
"The forest could only choose one of us, and the forest has spoken. That is all there is, and all there was ever going to be."
[[Checkpoint: Restart Tutorial ->Tutorial Literal]]" ... I deal with it the same way you do." You say, flatly, but honestly, a rush going through you didn't feel the need to hide your true self.
You turn your head, insistent on leaving this time.
"This IS the only way, really." Phoenix says, her fingers curling inward, inviting you back inside, in more ways than one. "I've tried to be celibate, I've tried to masturbate to other things, but, if anything, it just makes the cravings worse..."
You turn to face Phoenix and see a kindred spirit in this plight you've kept to yourself for five years.
"You're right." You admit. "I've found that...regular masturbation...to my deepest fantasy is the only way to keep myself from going over the edge. It keeps me sane."
"Couldn't have said it better myself." Phoenix says, stepping in closer, her breath hot, short, eager against your lips. "But how will you deal with your desire where you are going? They will have every right to eat you, if you're caught."
"I'm just going to not get caught, then. Or, at least, I'll do what I always do I'll-."
"Best to get it out of your system now, then take it where you're headed." Phoenix finishes.
You feel Phoenix's hand graze and rub against your thigh, with your hand coming to stop it, but offering very little resistance. You feel your breath getting heavy, eager for her touch, her lips, her tongue.
"Best for BOTH of us to get it out of our system, really..." Phoenix implores. "So we can think more clearly."
"I'm not attracted to women, sorry." you whisper out.
"No, but you ARE attracted to being eaten, aren't you?" Phoenix says, eyeing your body up and down. "You can't fool me, Scarlett. Behind that strong demeanor and lean, muscular frame, you've been excited to be back, haven't you? Walking the streets knowing that you could get snatched up at any moment..."
You feel a flush on your face and a wetness begin to form between your legs.
"You didn't get hot being wrapped tight in plastic two days ago? And, I can tell by how dry your skin is, you spent some time in the oven, didn't you? Did you think about giving in and surrendering? Did you touch yourself just as you realized you might finally be dinner?"
You close your eyes as you moan out of your core and your hand shakes with desire to touch yourself.
"Yes, you'd still make fine eating Scarlett Sky. I wouldn't mind being the one who sunk my teeth into you myself. But..."
Phoenix leans in to whisper in your ear.
"...I'll gladly settle for tasting you with my tongue. With my lips. And licking your essence off of my fingers."
You feel a hand pull at your wrist and lead you towards the bed.
"Come play with me, Scarlett Sky. Play with me and let us enjoy a moment of meaningless pleasure before we take on a journey together that could have greater consequence in this world than any woman has ever had before. A woman's journey should start and end with her own pleasure, wouldn't you agree?"
You begin to speak, but the words don't come out of your mouth. You feel your body laid down on Phoenix's bed, with her crawling on top of you, her lips just over yours.
"Tell me what turns you on, Scarlett Sky. Tell me what you fantasize about."
You feel your arms drop to your sides as she pulls you in for a kiss.
[[Tell her you fantasize about being alive roasted in an oven. ->Pussy Eating 3]]
[[Tell her you fantasize about being spitted alive and cooked over open flame. ->Pussy End 2]]"I fantasize about...about..."
Phoenix begins to kiss your neck, softly, her lips lingering as if she's tasting your flesh anew each time.
"...being...roasted in an oven...alive."
"You look like you already have…" Phoenix says, her kisses going down your neck, across over your chest, and onto to your breasts.
“Did you have a close call yesterday?”
“Yes…so close…”
Phoenix sucks on your nipples as her hand travels down your thigh, teasing and kneading your toned legs.
“That must’ve been hot for you. Tell me how she had you.”
“Trussed. In a pan. Oiled. Seasoned. Ready to roast. God. She roasted me. She roasted me in her fucking oven, and I, I…
“You loved it, didn’t you? It's just me and you here. You can let it out."
“…YES. It was so fucking hot. I felt myself cooking, I…”
Your hand naturally grips the roots of Phoenix's hair and you forcibly push her down to your crotch. She looks up and smiles, kissing the outside of your thighs as her hands trace closer and closer to your outer lips.
“I bet you smelled even better than you do now.” Phoenix says as she puts a finger in her mouth, wetting it.
“…I smelled so good. I could TASTE myself cooking. I was ready. I was so ready to give…”
Phoenix hand begins to press against your outer lips, pulling your mound out a bit, before squeezing and lightly kneading your tender flesh from the outside.
“Say the word, Scarlett.”
“I was ready to give…IN.”
Just as you say the word in, Phoenix slides a finger inside you.
“Is that right? Big, strong, Scarlett Sky was a submitted little oven roaster? I bet that was quite the sight.” Phoenix says as she curls her finger upwards, pressing on your G-spot, your hips rising to meet the pressure, as it’s just how you like it.
“What else has turned you on so far? Go on.”
[[Tell her that you were turned on by the receptionist at the hotel. ->Pussy End 3]]
[[Tell her you were turned on at Cochinillo Assado, the restaurant. ->Pussy Eating 4]]“I…went to a restaurant…”
“Oh, even I wouldn’t do that…” Phoenix says as she presses her lips firmly against your mound, her focusing her tongue on your clit, providing pressured, slow strokes.
You gasp outloud as you grip her head and squirm in her bed, an orgasm building between your legs.
“There was girl meat everywhere…every plate…every single one of them would’ve eaten me…”
“Just like I’m eating you now?”
You press her mouth back onto your mound.
“Just like this. Slowly licking me and fingering me just right. Not too fast, not too slow. Rythym. The restaurant had rhythm. I would’ve just been one meal in a long shift – consumed and forgotten…”
Phoenix increases the pressure of her lips on the roof of your mound, sliding a second finger into your pussy. She grins as your pussy clinches her hand tightly in response.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it? To be a meal and you’re burden as Scarlett Sky to be forgotten? What else?”
[[Correct her and tell you want to be kept. Admit you also got wet talking to Leikr. ->Pussy Eating O]]
[[Tell her you want to be forgotten, and that you craved being one of the Baron’s perfectly tender sow’s. ->Pussy End 4]]“No, not forgotten. I want to be kept.”
Phoenix goes to speak but you shove her head in place, your legs beginning to quake as you can feel the orgasm coming.
“I got really wet when Leikr tried to kill me. He got his fingers inside of me, and…I…I…”
Phoenix pulls your hand away from her head for a moment to speak.
“You bad girl. You wanted to be his fucking trophy, didn’t you?”
“YES, GOD YES, I wanted him to fucking stuff me like an animal. I wanted to be his den. I wanted him to chew on my fucking bones and brag to his asshole friends about being the one to eat me. God, I want to be-”
Phoenix continues the steady rhythm of her thrusting hand, the curl in her fingertips, and the intense pressure on your mound, her tongue licking you from underneath.
"I want, I WANT TO BE EATEN. I want to be cooked alive. I want to FEEL myself go from strong muscule to soft, supple meat."
Phoenix does not try to speak, but simply maintains the steady pace and pressure to milk a body shaking orgasm out of you.
"I want to smell my flavor, my flesh cooking. I want to feel my senses dim. I want to be consumed, devoured, digested, part of someone else, forever. My only remaining legacy in their stomach. I just want to have my one PERFECT moment and then be enjoyed by someone else."
Just as your climax is imminent, Phoenix very slowly speeds her thrusting up, a subtle difference that matches at the pace of your breath. She presses her lips just a little firmer on your cunt. Her fingers curl in and press your G spot in to create pressure on both sides - squeezing the release out of you like juice from a grape.
"I WANT TO BE KEPT AS A TROPHY." You scream out. "I want every last bit of me to eaten all up, not a single shred of me to waste, annd then I want myy fucking bones boiled for soup. I want to be served with crusty bread, and fresh noodles, and, and..."
You don't even realize you're cuming as she rips orgasm after orgasm out of you. Just as you're about to scream, she slides her free hand over your mouth, and you hold the noise in out of respect for her need for discretion, to not reveal to the LFD she's just as sex crazed as you are.
You simple lie there and convulse as your body is flooded with the most multiple orgasm of your life. You can literally feel your heart beat as the endorphins flood your entire body, leaving you a soaking, heaving, peaceful, beautiful mess.
As your breathing steadies and you collect yourself, you look up to see Phoenix wiping her face and licking her hand clean .
"Delicious. You know, if I was to ever eat another woman, it would be you. But it would be exactly like this, night after night, just like that."
"That was SO fucking good, Phoenix. I needed that. Thank you."
"The pleasure was all mine, Scarlett. There's something freeing for me on letting someone else be in charge, for once. And you're about the only one I know I can trust."
[[Advance to: Thurs AM, After Care Scene ->Pussy Pillow Talk]]hasHuntItem: false
--
"I ignore it. I lock it all deep inside of me and I never, ever address it. And I absolutely never play with others, it's too dangerous."
"I don't entirely believe you, but..."
Phoenix steps back, disheartened.
"I respect your right to choose to not play with me. But, would you be willing to lay with me for a while? I just...need a break from my own thoughts."
"Alright."
***************************
Phoenix takes a drag of her vape and offers you a hit, but you pass. You stare up at the ceiling in and wonder.
"How did you come to be in the Subjegation Auction five years ago?" You ask. "You're so smart that I can't imagine you'd get caught up accidently breaking a rule in Dolcett."
"You're very kind, but I wasn't always this way." Phoenix says with a sigh. "Let's just say the rule I broke wasn't an accident."
"Say more."
"Does it matter?"
"Shouldn't it?"
Phoenix takes a long draw from her vape.
"I...well, I..."
"Go on."
"I've always been like, I guess you'd call a tomboy. I never liked dresses, I don't like girly things as a child. My parents tried to steer me towards being pleasing and obedient, and told me if I didn't find a nice man to claim me as his wife, I'd probably be snuffed and sold at a grocery store by the time I was 30." Phoenix says, a smile growing on her face. "I didn't care. I just wanted to do things my way, you know, be different...but then, I met him."
"Him?"
"My parents set it up. He was SO much older than me. A real traditionalist, a firm hand, he had wives before, which didn't seem to bother my parents."
Phoenix takes another long hit of her vape.
"He was so different than all the other men, I'd ever met. He really listened to me, he seemed to care about my dreams, the types of dreams women aren't allowed to have here.
Phoenix sighs.
"I even told him my dream was to run for political office, you know, be the first elected woman in Dolcett. He never laughed at me. He even told me he'd help me, that he had rich, powerful friends that could get me started. He really made me feel..."
"You fell in love with him."
"...I fell for it. alright." Phoenix says, her smile from earlier evaporated. "The minute I took his collar, he completely changed. On our wedding day, he told me my opinions were stupid and my place was on my knees waiting for him to come home. He told me...he took pleasure in breaking opinionated, independent women, and he had taken me on to be his next personal project."
"I can't imagine how that went, knowing how strong you are."
"It went as you'd expect. The same night he told me he swore his undying love for me in front of my family, he whipped me with his belt. He said he had to break me of the idea that I women were capable of anything beyond submission to a man."
"So. You ran away...and got yourself caught on purpose? To escape?"
Phoenix laughs.
"Caught on purpose, yes. Ran away...not exactly." Phoenix takes a drag of her vape, letting the vapor linger in her mouth before contuniing, her expression lifeless.
"I knew the minute he truly broke my will, and I accepted my cage, he'd get bored and kill me. So, I did what any proper Dolcett girl would do - I got dressed up in the clothes he picked out for me, strapped on six inch heels, and made him his favorite meal - top girl loin steak and smashed potatoes. You should've SEEN the look on his face as I served his plate, Scarlett, he was so smug. So confident. So convinced he'd broken me.
You don't respond, but quietly nod, for a moment.
"He was also SO wrong. I remember every little microexpression he made as he started to choke. I can hear the sound of him aspirating as the poison burned a whole in his esophagus. The way he tumbled backwards in his chair. And..."
Phoenix takes a deep breath, her eyes vacant as she twirls her vape between her fingers.
"...and when the shock set in, when I really knew he was going to die, I smiled. I smiled for the first time in months. I took my collar off and threw it on his heaving chest and I made sure the last thing he ever heard was - 'I guess women are capable of a lot more than you think.'"
Phoenix looks over at you.
"You sure you still want to be my friend after all that?"
You think a moment before answering.
"I think philosophers have debated the morality of your situation for millenia, so I won't be the one to pass judgment on you. What's the right answer in a world full of wrong ones?" You explore aloud. "But, wouldn't you have just been arrested and not Subugated?"
"Yes, that is how it should've went, but I had it all planned out - I killed him at dinner on Wednesday night, finished what I thought would be my last meal, hid his body in the closet, and headed into town."
"So, you thought that by the time they found out what happened, you'd be..."
"...dead. Eaten, really, especially being Subujgated on Dolcett Day weekend, I'd be long roasted by the time they'd found out why he'd stopped showing up to work. And to be honest, I was fine with that, I had accepted that my punishment should be an eye for an eye. But then, I met you, in that room that signified my life had ended, I met someone who inspired me that my life had only just begun."
Phoenix places a hand on your head, brushing your hair behind your ear.
"I had never met a woman who really believed that life for us could be better, and I was just inspired to live. I decided right then and there that if I could find a way to escape from whoever bought me, my penace would be to dedicate every moment of my life to making life better for women, whatever the cost."
"I'm not sure if I've made life better or not." you admit. "I thought I'd done so much before I came here - being the gatekeeper that prevented unwilling women from being sent to Dolcett. But, there's so many innocent women here, and all I've done is sent women who had the same urgings as I deny to their death."
"It would appear we have that in common, then." Phoenix comforts. "The urges, the authority role, and sending women to their death. It's a heavy burden."
"I still remember them." You continue. "I remember every single one of them that I approved -their lustful expression, how grateful they were to me, their excitement at being able to fulfill their greatest fantasy. You'd think this would be a proud moment for me, as it's what I'd dedicated my life to, and yet..."
"...you feel the guilt." Phoenix finishes.
"Yes. For their loss of life. For what I could've, should've done? But mostly, for my own hypocrisy. I sit in my fancy chair and stamp their paper like I'm some kind of wise overseer, someone qualified to make a determination on literal life and death. But all I think about, every time I approve a visa, is what my own name would look like on that paper.
"How close have you ever come? To submitting to your urges?"
"Well, the last time I was here, there was this woman..."
"I thought you said you didn't like women."
"There's something about her, Seductive, transfixing, intoxicating. It was less about who she was and how she looked but how she moved, how she was able with words and a touch to command people. I noticed that even as we were talking, her hands danced across my body, and that she was constantly trying to get inside of me."
"Hot." Phoenix whispers.
"I saw later that any woman she ever got her fingers inside, she was able to control them like a puppet. She was so skillfull in the art of lust that even one touch would break them entirely and make them obedient to her forever, a drone aching for it's next release."
"Hotter." Phoenix says as her hips grind against you.
"I realized that if she ever got her fingers inside of me, I would have the greatest orgasm of my life, and then, there would be no going back - I'd be dinner. She was intent on roasting me in an oven, alive, and I've just...even though she never was able to touch me there, I..."
"Can't get the image out of your head?"
"Never. I fantasize about it all the time, just giving in to her. There's something simple about it - I'd be giving in just enough to let her rip the control I've struggled with away from me. There's a part of me that just wants to show up at her doorstep with an apple in my mouth and lay down on her platter."
"Who is she? Your famous bodyguard?"
There's some noise in the foyer.
"Oh. The women are waking." Phoenix says. I can't let them see us like this. It's best you leave now, out the back. You'll have to tell me the rest another time."
"Thanks Phoenix. For everything."
"No, Scarlett, thank you. You made ALL of this possible. Without you, there would be no Ladies for Dolcett. And, there won't be a LFD past Friday if you don't come back. So, please, do what you do best, defy the odds, save your friend, and let's save this world together. For all of the innocent women in Dolcett."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Redwood Hunting Co, Thurs AM ->Hunt Sign Up]]hasHuntItem: false
--
"I fantasize about...about..."
Phoenix begins to kiss your neck, softly, her lips lingering as if she's tasting your flesh anew each time.
"...being...spitted alive..."
"Oh, a bit of a pain slut, are we? That's very kinky."
"Yes...I want the flames to...dance...over my..."
As Phoenix's kisses go down your neck, you grab her by the roots of her hair and hold it into your chest.
"I'm sorry...I really can't do this..."
Phoenix slumps over on the bed next to you, disheartened.
"Alright, Scarlett. I respect your right to choose to end our gamee. But, would you be willing to lay with me for a while? I just...need a break from my own thoughts."
***************************
Phoenix takes a drag of her vape and offers you a hit, but you pass. You stare up at the ceiling in and wonder.
"How did you come to be in the Subjegation Auction five years ago?" You ask. "You're so smart that I can't imagine you'd get caught up accidently breaking a rule in Dolcett."
"You're very kind, but I wasn't always this way." Phoenix says with a sigh. "Let's just say the rule I broke wasn't an accident."
"Say more."
"Does it matter?"
"Shouldn't it?"
Phoenix takes a long draw from her vape.
"I...well, I..."
"Go on."
"I've always been like, I guess you'd call a tomboy. I never liked dresses, I don't like girly things as a child. My parents tried to steer me towards being pleasing and obedient, and told me if I didn't find a nice man to claim me as his wife, I'd probably be snuffed and sold at a grocery store by the time I was 30." Phoenix says, a smile growing on her face. "I didn't care. I just wanted to do things my way, you know, be different...but then, I met him."
"Him?"
"My parents set it up. He was SO much older than me. A real traditionalist, a firm hand, he had wives before, which didn't seem to bother my parents."
Phoenix takes another long hit of her vape.
"He was so different than all the other men, I'd ever met. He really listened to me, he seemed to care about my dreams, the types of dreams women aren't allowed to have here.
Phoenix sighs.
"I even told him my dream was to run for political office, you know, be the first elected woman in Dolcett. He never laughed at me. He even told me he'd help me, that he had rich, powerful friends that could get me started. He really made me feel..."
"You fell in love with him."
"...I fell for it. alright." Phoenix says, her smile from earlier evaporated. "The minute I took his collar, he completely changed. On our wedding day, he told me my opinions were stupid and my place was on my knees waiting for him to come home. He told me...he took pleasure in breaking opinionated, independent women, and he had taken me on to be his next personal project."
"I can't imagine how that went, knowing how strong you are."
"It went as you'd expect. The same night he told me he swore his undying love for me in front of my family, he whipped me with his belt. He said he had to break me of the idea that I women were capable of anything beyond submission to a man."
"So. You ran away...and got yourself caught on purpose? To escape?"
Phoenix laughs.
"Caught on purpose, yes. Ran away...not exactly." Phoenix takes a drag of her vape, letting the vapor linger in her mouth before contuniing, her expression lifeless.
"I knew the minute he truly broke my will, and I accepted my cage, he'd get bored and kill me. So, I did what any proper Dolcett girl would do - I got dressed up in the clothes he picked out for me, strapped on six inch heels, and made him his favorite meal - top girl loin steak and smashed potatoes. You should've SEEN the look on his face as I served his plate, Scarlett, he was so smug. So confident. So convinced he'd broken me.
You don't respond, but quietly nod, for a moment.
"He was also SO wrong. I remember every little microexpression he made as he started to choke. I can hear the sound of him aspirating as the poison burned a whole in his esophagus. The way he tumbled backwards in his chair. And..."
Phoenix takes a deep breath, her eyes vacant as she twirls her vape between her fingers.
"...and when the shock set in, when I really knew he was going to die, I smiled. I smiled for the first time in months. I took my collar off and threw it on his heaving chest and I made sure the last thing he ever heard was - 'I guess women are capable of a lot more than you think.'"
Phoenix looks over at you.
"You sure you still want to be my friend after all that?"
You think a moment before answering.
"I think philosophers have debated the morality of your situation for millenia, so I won't be the one to pass judgment on you. What's the right answer in a world full of wrong ones?" You explore aloud. "But, wouldn't you have just been arrested and not Subugated?"
"Yes, that is how it should've went, but I had it all planned out - I killed him at dinner on Wednesday night, finished what I thought would be my last meal, hid his body in the closet, and headed into town."
"So, you thought that by the time they found out what happened, you'd be..."
"...dead. Eaten, really, especially being Subujgated on Dolcett Day weekend, I'd be long roasted by the time they'd found out why he'd stopped showing up to work. And to be honest, I was fine with that, I had accepted that my punishment should be an eye for an eye. But then, I met you, in that room that signified my life had ended, I met someone who inspired me that my life had only just begun."
Phoenix places a hand on your head, brushing your hair behind your ear.
"I had never met a woman who really believed that life for us could be better, and I was just inspired to live. I decided right then and there that if I could find a way to escape from whoever bought me, my penace would be to dedicate every moment of my life to making life better for women, whatever the cost."
"I'm not sure if I've made life better or not." you admit. "I thought I'd done so much before I came here - being the gatekeeper that prevented unwilling women from being sent to Dolcett. But, there's so many innocent women here, and all I've done is sent women who had the same urgings as I deny to their death."
"It would appear we have that in common, then." Phoenix comforts. "The urges, the authority role, and sending women to their death. It's a heavy burden."
"I still remember them." You continue. "I remember every single one of them that I approved - their lustful expression, how grateful they were to me, their excitement at being able to fulfill their greatest fantasy. You'd think this would be a proud moment for me, as it's what I'd dedicated my life to, and yet..."
"...you feel the guilt." Phoenix finishes.
"Yes. For their loss of life. For what I could've, should've done? But mostly, for my own hypocrisy. I sit in my fancy chair and stamp their paper like I'm some kind of wise overseer, someone qualified to make a determination on literal life and death. But all I think about, every time I approve a visa, is what my own name would look like on that paper.
"How close have you ever come? To submitting to your urges?"
"Well, the last time I was here, there was this woman..."
"I thought you said you didn't like women."
"There's something about her, Seductive, transfixing, intoxicating. It was less about who she was and how she looked but how she moved, how she was able with words and a touch to command people. I noticed that even as we were talking, her hands danced across my body, and that she was constantly trying to get inside of me."
"Hot." Phoenix whispers.
"I saw later that any woman she ever got her fingers inside, she was able to control them like a puppet. She was so skillfull in the art of lust that even one touch would break them entirely and make them obedient to her forever, a drone aching for it's next release."
"Hotter." Phoenix says as her hips grind against you.
"I realized that if she ever got her fingers inside of me, I would have the greatest orgasm of my life, and then, there would be no going back - I'd be dinner. She was intent on roasting me in an oven, alive, and I've just...even though she never was able to touch me there, I..."
"Can't get the image out of your head?"
"Never. I fantasize about it all the time, just giving in to her. There's something simple about it - I'd be giving in just enough to let her rip the control I've struggled with away from me. There's a part of me that just wants to show up at her doorstep with an apple in my mouth and lay down on her platter."
"Who is she? Your famous bodyguard?"
There's some noise in the foyer.
"Oh. The women are waking." Phoenix says. I can't let them see us like this. It's best you leave now, out the back. You'll have to tell me the rest another time."
"Thanks Phoenix. For everything."
"No, Scarlett, thank you. You made ALL of this possible. Without you, there would be no Ladies for Dolcett. And, there won't be a LFD past Friday if you don't come back. So, please, do what you do best, defy the odds, save your friend, and let's save this world together. For all of the innocent women in Dolcett."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Redwood Hunting Co, Thurs AM ->Hunt Sign Up]]hasHuntItem: false
--
"There was a young receptionist at my hotel...barely twenty..."
"Oh, Cougar Sky, you bad girl. You want him to eat you?" Phoenix says as she presses her lips firmly against your mound, her focusing her tongue on your clit, providing pressured, slow strokes.
"He...was fascinated with my ass. I think he wanted to roast it full, stick a pineapple in it, turn me into a traditional ham dinner..."
"That's hot-"
You rest your hand on the back of Phoenix's head, eager to press to indicate you want a little more firmness.
"No...I don't even like...ham..."
You feel the orgasm slipping away from you, slowly, as you come back to reality. Phoenix continues to work with her rthyhm, but she too can feel that the music has been lost.
She crawls up and lays besides you.
"That was really good, thank you." you whisper.
"Couldn't get you there, but I did get a taste. And you sure all delicious, Scarlett."
***************************
Phoenix takes a drag of her vape and offers you a hit, but you pass. You stare up at the ceiling in and wonder.
"How did you come to be in the Subjegation Auction five years ago?" You ask. "You're so smart that I can't imagine you'd get caught up accidently breaking a rule in Dolcett."
"You're very kind, but I wasn't always this way." Phoenix says with a sigh. "Let's just say the rule I broke wasn't an accident."
"Say more."
"Does it matter?"
"Shouldn't it?"
Phoenix takes a long draw from her vape.
"I...well, I..."
"Go on."
"I've always been like, I guess you'd call a tomboy. I never liked dresses, I don't like girly things as a child. My parents tried to steer me towards being pleasing and obedient, and told me if I didn't find a nice man to claim me as his wife, I'd probably be snuffed and sold at a grocery store by the time I was 30." Phoenix says, a smile growing on her face. "I didn't care. I just wanted to do things my way, you know, be different...but then, I met him."
"Him?"
"My parents set it up. He was SO much older than me. A real traditionalist, a firm hand, he had wives before, which didn't seem to bother my parents."
Phoenix takes another long hit of her vape.
"He was so different than all the other men, I'd ever met. He really listened to me, he seemed to care about my dreams, the types of dreams women aren't allowed to have here.
Phoenix sighs.
"I even told him my dream was to run for political office, you know, be the first elected woman in Dolcett. He never laughed at me. He even told me he'd help me, that he had rich, powerful friends that could get me started. He really made me feel..."
"You fell in love with him."
"...I fell for it. alright." Phoenix says, her smile from earlier evaporated. "The minute I took his collar, he completely changed. On our wedding day, he told me my opinions were stupid and my place was on my knees waiting for him to come home. He told me...he took pleasure in breaking opinionated, independent women, and he had taken me on to be his next personal project."
"I can't imagine how that went, knowing how strong you are."
"It went as you'd expect. The same night he told me he swore his undying love for me in front of my family, he whipped me with his belt. He said he had to break me of the idea that I women were capable of anything beyond submission to a man."
"So. You ran away...and got yourself caught on purpose? To escape?"
Phoenix laughs.
"Caught on purpose, yes. Ran away...not exactly." Phoenix takes a drag of her vape, letting the vapor linger in her mouth before contuniing, her expression lifeless.
"I knew the minute he truly broke my will, and I accepted my cage, he'd get bored and kill me. So, I did what any proper Dolcett girl would do - I got dressed up in the clothes he picked out for me, strapped on six inch heels, and made him his favorite meal - top girl loin steak and smashed potatoes. You should've SEEN the look on his face as I served his plate, Scarlett, he was so smug. So confident. So convinced he'd broken me.
You don't respond, but quietly nod, for a moment.
"He was also SO wrong. I remember every little microexpression he made as he started to choke. I can hear the sound of him aspirating as the poison burned a whole in his esophagus. The way he tumbled backwards in his chair. And..."
Phoenix takes a deep breath, her eyes vacant as she twirls her vape between her fingers.
"...and when the shock set in, when I really knew he was going to die, I smiled. I smiled for the first time in months. I took my collar off and threw it on his heaving chest and I made sure the last thing he ever heard was - 'I guess women are capable of a lot more than you think.'"
Phoenix looks over at you.
"You sure you still want to be my friend after all that?"
You think a moment before answering.
"I think philosophers have debated the morality of your situation for millenia, so I won't be the one to pass judgment on you. What's the right answer in a world full of wrong ones?" You explore aloud. "But, wouldn't you have just been arrested and not Subugated?"
"Yes, that is how it should've went, but I had it all planned out - I killed him at dinner on Wednesday night, finished what I thought would be my last meal, hid his body in the closet, and headed into town."
"So, you thought that by the time they found out what happened, you'd be..."
"...dead. Eaten, really, especially being Subujgated on Dolcett Day weekend, I'd be long roasted by the time they'd found out why he'd stopped showing up to work. And to be honest, I was fine with that, I had accepted that my punishment should be an eye for an eye. But then, I met you, in that room that signified my life had ended, I met someone who inspired me that my life had only just begun."
Phoenix places a hand on your head, brushing your hair behind your ear.
"I had never met a woman who really believed that life for us could be better, and I was just inspired to live. I decided right then and there that if I could find a way to escape from whoever bought me, my penace would be to dedicate every moment of my life to making life better for women, whatever the cost."
"I'm not sure if I've made life better or not." you admit. "I thought I'd done so much before I came here - being the gatekeeper that prevented unwilling women from being sent to Dolcett. But, there's so many innocent women here, and all I've done is sent women who had the same urgings as I deny to their death."
"It would appear we have that in common, then." Phoenix comforts. "The urges, the authority role, and sending women to their death. It's a heavy burden."
"I still remember them." You continue. "I remember every single one of them that I approved -their lustful expression, how grateful they were to me, their excitement at being able to fulfill their greatest fantasy. You'd think this would be a proud moment for me, as it's what I'd dedicated my life to, and yet..."
"...you feel the guilt." Phoenix finishes.
"Yes. For their loss of life. For what I could've, should've done? But mostly, for my own hypocrisy. I sit in my fancy chair and stamp their paper like I'm some kind of wise overseer, someone qualified to make a determination on literal life and death. But all I think about, every time I approve a visa, is what my own name would look like on that paper.
"How close have you ever come? To submitting to your urges?"
"Well, the last time I was here, there was this woman..."
"I thought you said you didn't like women."
"There's something about her, Seductive, transfixing, intoxicating. It was less about who she was and how she looked but how she moved, how she was able with words and a touch to command people. I noticed that even as we were talking, her hands danced across my body, and that she was constantly trying to get inside of me."
"Hot." Phoenix whispers.
"I saw later that any woman she ever got her fingers inside, she was able to control them like a puppet. She was so skillfull in the art of lust that even one touch would break them entirely and make them obedient to her forever, a drone aching for it's next release."
"Hotter." Phoenix says as her hips grind against you.
"I realized that if she ever got her fingers inside of me, I would have the greatest orgasm of my life, and then, there would be no going back - I'd be dinner. She was intent on roasting me in an oven, alive, and I've just...even though she never was able to touch me there, I..."
"Can't get the image out of your head?"
"Never. I fantasize about it all the time, just giving in to her. There's something simple about it - I'd be giving in just enough to let her rip the control I've struggled with away from me. There's a part of me that just wants to show up at her doorstep with an apple in my mouth and lay down on her platter."
"Who is she? Your famous bodyguard?"
There's some noise in the foyer.
"Oh. The women are waking." Phoenix says. I can't let them see us like this. It's best you leave now, out the back. You'll have to tell me the rest another time."
"Thanks Phoenix. For everything."
"No, Scarlett, thank you. You made ALL of this possible. Without you, there would be no Ladies for Dolcett. And, there won't be a LFD past Friday if you don't come back. So, please, do what you do best, defy the odds, save your friend, and let's save this world together. For all of the innocent women in Dolcett."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Redwood Hunting Co, Thurs AM ->Hunt Sign Up]]hasHuntItem: false
--
"Yes, I just want to be a meal on a plate. Free of stress...and pain...and responsibility.."
Phoenix goes to speak but you shove her head in place, your legs beginning to quake as you can feel the orgasm coming.
“I got really wet when I watched the Baron eat that sow's cunted. I wanted it to be...”
Phoenix pulls your hand away from her head for a moment to speak.
“You bad girl. You wanted to be the Baron's cuntsteak dinner, didn't you?”
“Yes...I...wanted...I really wanted..."
Phoenix continues the steady rhythm of her thrusting hand, the curl in her fingertips, and the intense pressure on your mound, her tongue licking from underneath.
Just as you're about to orgasm, you feel an uneasiness in your stomach. The Baron did not turn you on, he turned you very off. He was the antithesis of sexuality - trying to reduce a woman's life to nothingness besides her value on a plate.
You feel the quaking orgasm flutter away, just before it erupts, and you lay in frustration on the bed.
Phoenix crawls up and lays besides you, gasping for air in between licking her fingers.
"That was REALLY good, thank you." you whisper.
"You were really close, Scarlett. But, it's okay. I can tell you enjoyed yourself almost as much as I did. You okay?"
"Yeah, I just...I always have some type of hangover after I masturbate to this fetish."
"Same." Phoenix says as she takes a drag of her vape and offers you a hit, but you pass. You stare up at the ceiling in and wonder.
"How did you come to be in the Subjegation Auction five years ago?" You ask. "You're so smart that I can't imagine you'd get caught up accidently breaking a rule in Dolcett."
"You're very kind, but I wasn't always this way." Phoenix says with a sigh. "Let's just say the rule I broke wasn't an accident."
"Say more."
"Does it matter?"
"Shouldn't it?"
Phoenix takes a long draw from her vape.
"I...well, I..."
"Go on."
"I've always been like, I guess you'd call a tomboy. I never liked dresses, I don't like girly things as a child. My parents tried to steer me towards being pleasing and obedient, and told me if I didn't find a nice man to claim me as his wife, I'd probably be snuffed and sold at a grocery store by the time I was 30." Phoenix says, a smile growing on her face. "I didn't care. I just wanted to do things my way, you know, be different...but then, I met him."
"Him?"
"My parents set it up. He was SO much older than me. A real traditionalist, a firm hand, he had wives before, which didn't seem to bother my parents."
Phoenix takes another long hit of her vape.
"He was so different than all the other men, I'd ever met. He really listened to me, he seemed to care about my dreams, the types of dreams women aren't allowed to have here.
Phoenix sighs.
"I even told him my dream was to run for political office, you know, be the first elected woman in Dolcett. He never laughed at me. He even told me he'd help me, that he had rich, powerful friends that could get me started. He really made me feel..."
"You fell in love with him."
"...I fell for it. alright." Phoenix says, her smile from earlier evaporated. "The minute I took his collar, he completely changed. On our wedding day, he told me my opinions were stupid and my place was on my knees waiting for him to come home. He told me...he took pleasure in breaking opinionated, independent women, and he had taken me on to be his next personal project."
"I can't imagine how that went, knowing how strong you are."
"It went as you'd expect. The same night he told me he swore his undying love for me in front of my family, he whipped me with his belt. He said he had to break me of the idea that I women were capable of anything beyond submission to a man."
"So. You ran away...and got yourself caught on purpose? To escape?"
Phoenix laughs.
"Caught on purpose, yes. Ran away...not exactly." Phoenix takes a drag of her vape, letting the vapor linger in her mouth before contuniing, her expression lifeless.
"I knew the minute he truly broke my will, and I accepted my cage, he'd get bored and kill me. So, I did what any proper Dolcett girl would do - I got dressed up in the clothes he picked out for me, strapped on six inch heels, and made him his favorite meal - top girl loin steak and smashed potatoes. You should've SEEN the look on his face as I served his plate, Scarlett, he was so smug. So confident. So convinced he'd broken me.
You don't respond, but quietly nod, for a moment.
"He was also SO wrong. I remember every little microexpression he made as he started to choke. I can hear the sound of him aspirating as the poison burned a whole in his esophagus. The way he tumbled backwards in his chair. And..."
Phoenix takes a deep breath, her eyes vacant as she twirls her vape between her fingers.
"...and when the shock set in, when I really knew he was going to die, I smiled. I smiled for the first time in months. I took my collar off and threw it on his heaving chest and I made sure the last thing he ever heard was - 'I guess women are capable of a lot more than you think.'"
Phoenix looks over at you.
"You sure you still want to be my friend after all that?"
You think a moment before answering.
"I think philosophers have debated the morality of your situation for millenia, so I won't be the one to pass judgment on you. What's the right answer in a world full of wrong ones?" You explore aloud. "But, wouldn't you have just been arrested and not Subugated?"
"Yes, that is how it should've went, but I had it all planned out - I killed him at dinner on Wednesday night, finished what I thought would be my last meal, hid his body in the closet, and headed into town."
"So, you thought that by the time they found out what happened, you'd be..."
"...dead. Eaten, really, especially being Subujgated on Dolcett Day weekend, I'd be long roasted by the time they'd found out why he'd stopped showing up to work. And to be honest, I was fine with that, I had accepted that my punishment should be an eye for an eye. But then, I met you, in that room that signified my life had ended, I met someone who inspired me that my life had only just begun."
Phoenix places a hand on your head, brushing your hair behind your ear.
"I had never met a woman who really believed that life for us could be better, and I was just inspired to live. I decided right then and there that if I could find a way to escape from whoever bought me, my penace would be to dedicate every moment of my life to making life better for women, whatever the cost."
"I'm not sure if I've made life better or not." you admit. "I thought I'd done so much before I came here - being the gatekeeper that prevented unwilling women from being sent to Dolcett. But, there's so many innocent women here, and all I've done is sent women who had the same urgings as I deny to their death."
"It would appear we have that in common, then." Phoenix comforts. "The urges, the authority role, and sending women to their death. It's a heavy burden."
"I still remember them." You continue. "I remember every single one of them that I approved -their lustful expression, how grateful they were to me, their excitement at being able to fulfill their greatest fantasy. You'd think this would be a proud moment for me, as it's what I'd dedicated my life to, and yet..."
"...you feel the guilt." Phoenix finishes.
"Yes. For their loss of life. For what I could've, should've done? But mostly, for my own hypocrisy. I sit in my fancy chair and stamp their paper like I'm some kind of wise overseer, someone qualified to make a determination on literal life and death. But all I think about, every time I approve a visa, is what my own name would look like on that paper.
"How close have you ever come? To submitting to your urges?"
"Well, the last time I was here, there was this woman..."
"I thought you said you didn't like women."
"There's something about her, Seductive, transfixing, intoxicating. It was less about who she was and how she looked but how she moved, how she was able with words and a touch to command people. I noticed that even as we were talking, her hands danced across my body, and that she was constantly trying to get inside of me."
"Hot." Phoenix whispers.
"I saw later that any woman she ever got her fingers inside, she was able to control them like a puppet. She was so skillfull in the art of lust that even one touch would break them entirely and make them obedient to her forever, a drone aching for it's next release."
"Hotter." Phoenix says as her hips grind against you.
"I realized that if she ever got her fingers inside of me, I would have the greatest orgasm of my life, and then, there would be no going back - I'd be dinner. She was intent on roasting me in an oven, alive, and I've just...even though she never was able to touch me there, I..."
"Can't get the image out of your head?"
"Never. I fantasize about it all the time, just giving in to her. There's something simple about it - I'd be giving in just enough to let her rip the control I've struggled with away from me. There's a part of me that just wants to show up at her doorstep with an apple in my mouth and lay down on her platter."
"Who is she? Your famous bodyguard?"
There's some noise in the foyer.
"Oh. The women are waking." Phoenix says. I can't let them see us like this. It's best you leave now, out the back. You'll have to tell me the rest another time."
"Thanks Phoenix. For everything."
"No, Scarlett, thank you. You made ALL of this possible. Without you, there would be no Ladies for Dolcett. And, there won't be a LFD past Friday if you don't come back. So, please, do what you do best, defy the odds, save your friend, and let's save this world together. For all of the innocent women in Dolcett."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Redwood Hunting Co, Thurs AM ->Hunt Sign Up]]hasHuntItem: true
--
As Phoenix lies next to you, stroking your hair, you feel a guilt setting in.
"You okay?" Phoenix asks, her body cuddling up next to yours. "Don't get me wrong, I really enjoyed myself. I always just feel a little...wrong...after."
"Same." you admit. I've never cum to this fantasy and didn't have some type of hangover."
Phoenix takes a drag of her vape and offers you a hit, but you pass.
“Still, that was REALLY good. I almost came myself…” she says, suddenly sitting up. “Which reminds me…”
Phoenix reaches in between her legs and pulls out a small razor blade, covered in a plastic sheath.
“This might be kind of gross, but I use this to cut my hair. Where you’re going – you might need every advantage you can get.”
“Thanks…” you say, as she drops the wet blade into your hand.
You decide to change the subject and hide it inside yourself later, just in case.
"How did you come to be in the Subjugation Auction five years ago?" You ask. "You're so smart that I can't imagine you'd get caught up accidently breaking a rule in Dolcett."
"You're very kind, but I wasn't always this way." Phoenix says with a sigh. "Let's just say the rule I broke wasn't an accident."
"Say more."
"Does it matter?"
"Shouldn't it?"
Phoenix takes a long draw from her vape.
"I...well, I..."
"Go on."
"I've always been like; I guess you'd call a tomboy. I never liked dresses; I don't like girly things as a child. My parents tried to steer me towards being pleasing and obedient, and told me if I didn't find a nice man to claim me as his wife, I'd probably be snuffed and sold at a grocery store by the time I was 30." Phoenix says, a smile growing on her face. "I didn't care. I just wanted to do things my way, you know, be different...but then, I met him."
"Him?"
"My parents set it up. He was SO much older than me. A real traditionalist, a firm hand, he had wives before, which didn't seem to bother my parents."
Phoenix takes another long hit of her vape.
"He was so different than all the other men, I'd ever met. He really listened to me, he seemed to care about my dreams, the types of dreams women aren't allowed to have here.
Phoenix sighs.
"I even told him my dream was to run for political office, you know, be the first elected woman in Dolcett. He never laughed at me. He even told me he'd help me, that he had rich, powerful friends that could get me started. He really made me feel..."
"You fell in love with him."
"...I fell for it. alright." Phoenix says, her smile from earlier evaporated. "The minute I took his collar, he completely changed. On our wedding day, he told me my opinions were stupid and my place was on my knees waiting for him to come home. He told me...he took pleasure in breaking opinionated, independent women, and he had taken me on to be his next personal project."
"I can't imagine how that went, knowing how strong you are."
"It went as you'd expect. The same night he told me he swore his undying love for me in front of my family, he whipped me with his belt. He said he had to break me of the idea that I women were capable of anything beyond submission to a man."
"So. You ran away...and got yourself caught on purpose? To escape?"
Phoenix laughs.
"Caught on purpose, yes. Ran away...not exactly." Phoenix takes a drag of her vape, letting the vapor linger in her mouth before continuing, her expression lifeless.
"I knew the minute he truly broke my will, and I accepted my cage, he'd get bored and kill me. So, I did what any proper Dolcett girl would do - I got dressed up in the clothes he picked out for me, strapped on six inch heels, and made him his favorite meal - top girl loin steak and smashed potatoes. You should've SEEN the look on his face as I served his plate, Scarlett, he was so smug. So confident. So convinced he'd broken me.
You don't respond, but quietly nod, for a moment.
"He was also SO wrong. I remember every little micro expression he made as he started to choke. I can hear the sound of him aspirating as the poison burned a whole in his esophagus. The way he tumbled backwards in his chair. And..."
Phoenix takes a deep breath, her eyes vacant as she twirls her vape between her fingers.
"...and when the shock set in, when I really knew he was going to die, I smiled. I smiled for the first time in months. I took my collar off and threw it on his heaving chest and I made sure the last thing he ever heard was - 'I guess women are capable of a lot more than you think.'"
Phoenix looks over at you.
"You sure you still want to be my friend after all that?"
You think a moment before answering.
"I don't know if I'm qualified to pass judgement on you, Phoenix. What's the right answer in a world full of wrong ones?" You explore aloud. "Also...wouldn't you have just been arrested, and not Subjugated?"
"Yes, that is how it should've went, but I had it all planned out - I killed him at dinner on Wednesday night, finished what I thought would be my last meal, hid his body in the closet, and headed into town."
"So, you thought that by the time they found out what happened, you'd be..."
"...dead. Eaten, really, especially being Subjugated on Dolcett Day weekend, I'd be long roasted by the time they'd found out why he'd stopped showing up to work. And to be honest, I was fine with that, I had accepted that my punishment should be an eye for an eye. But then, I met you, in that room that signified my life had ended, I met someone who inspired me that my life had only just begun."
Phoenix places a hand on your head, brushing your hair behind your ear.
"I had never met a woman who really believed that life for us could be better, and I was just inspired to live. I decided right then and there that if I could find a way to escape from whoever bought me, my penance would be to dedicate every moment of my life to making life better for women, whatever the cost."
"I'm not sure if I've made life better or not." you admit. "I thought I'd done so much before I came here - being the gatekeeper that prevented unwilling women from being sent to Dolcett. But, there's so many innocent women here, and all I've done is sent women who had the same urgings as I deny to their death."
"It would appear we have that in common, then." Phoenix comforts. "The urges, the authority role, and sending women to their death. It's a heavy burden."
"I still remember them." You continue. "I remember every single one of them that I approved -their lustful expression, how grateful they were to me, their excitement at being able to fulfill their greatest fantasy. You'd think this would be a proud moment for me, as it's what I'd dedicated my life to, and yet..."
"...you feel the guilt." Phoenix finishes.
"Yes. For their loss of life. For what I could've, should've done? But mostly, for my own hypocrisy. I sit in my fancy chair and stamp their paper like I'm some kind of wise overseer, someone qualified to make a determination on literal life and death. But all I think about, every time I approve a VISA, is what my own name would look like on that paper.
"How close have you ever come? To submitting to your urges?"
"Well, the last time I was here, there was this woman..."
"I thought you said you didn't like women."
"There's something about her, Seductive, transfixing, intoxicating. It was less about who she was and how she looked but how she moved, how she was able with words and a touch to command people. I noticed that even as we were talking, her hands danced across my body, and that she was constantly trying to get inside of me."
"Hot." Phoenix whispers.
"I saw later that any woman she ever got her fingers inside; she was able to control them like a puppet. She was so skillful in the art of lust that even one touch would break them entirely and make them obedient to her forever, a drone aching for its next release."
"Hotter." Phoenix says as her hips grind against you.
"I realized that if she ever got her fingers inside of me, I would have the greatest orgasm of my life, and then, there would be no going back - I'd be dinner. She was intent on roasting me in an oven, alive, and I've just...even though she never was able to touch me there, I..."
"Can't get the image out of your head?"
"Never. I fantasize about it all the time, just giving in to her. There's something simple about it - I'd be giving in just enough to let her rip the control I've struggled with away from me. There's a part of me that just wants to show up at her doorstep with an apple in my mouth and lay down on her platter."
"Who is she? Your famous bodyguard?"
There's some noise in the foyer.
"Oh. The women are waking." Phoenix says. I can't let them see us like this. It's best you leave now, out the back. You'll have to tell me the rest another time."
"Thanks Phoenix. For everything."
"No, Scarlett, thank you. You made ALL of this possible. Without you, there would be no Ladies for Dolcett. And, there won't be a LFD past Friday if you don't come back. So, please, do what you do best, defy the odds, save your friend, and let's save this world together. For all of the innocent women in Dolcett."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Redwood Hunting Co, Thurs AM ->Hunt Sign Up]]Puma continues to sneak around to the control board as she carefully monitors the gaze of the guards. She gracefully sneaks around the control panel just as the lead guard pulls his cock out.
"Fuck…” he says panting, grabbing Zoe by the chin. “…that doesn't make any sense, but I'll be damned if I'm going to turn that offer down."
Puma inches closer and closer to her goal as Zoe is thrown over the card table. One of the guards pulls her back to him by her hips as the lead lines himself up in front of her mouth.
"Man, she sure is cute."
"And she’s going to cook up real nice."
"She’s the perfect age. And I bet her pussy is just so tight."
"I call her asshole."
Puma is able to slip behind the control board just as the lead guard whips his cock out, lining it up with Zoe's throat. Puma hesitates for just a moment, curious to see if Zoe resists, and smiles as Zoe closes her eyes and opens her mouth, her tongue sticking out.
*She's really committed to the mission. She is worthy quarry indeed.*
Just as the men are about to slide their cocks in their holes of choice, they hear the electrical panel spark loudly behind them. They turn and see black smoke rising as Puma stands confidently behind it, pulling her Chanir out of the control panel.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Are men the only ones here allowed to slip their dagger inside a waiting hole?” Puma teases.
Puma walks around the panel and draws the second blade from her hip sheath, taking a stance that invites only one outcome.
"She's destroyed the control panel. Do you know what this means?" one of the guards says.
"It means she's DEAD," the lead guard proclaims.
Puma observes the positioning of the four men, planning out her next move. For her, their movement happens in slow motion, the only thing that appears in her vision in real time is a leaf that dances in the wind just in front of her.
As the lead guard throws Zoe to the floor, Puma’s eyes widen with the moment..
“…the forest has already decided the outcome of this battle. But, you are certainly welcome to struggle against the inevitable.”
[[Have Puma subdue all four men on her own. ->RadioE]]
[[Have Puma focus on two of the men, leaving the other two for Zoe to handle. ->Puma ending]]<span style="color: #e75480;">
*I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid. No, I TOTALLY am afraid. But that's okay, right? Scarlett said I need it to be strong!*
Zoe races behind Puma as they approach the entrance to the radio tower, which acts as an emergency system designed to prevent an uprising, just like the one they have just begun.
“Alright,” Puma says to Zoe. “Just like we've rehearsed, okay? As sexual as possible. The more obscene, the better.”
Zoe shakes visibly as she nods her head.
“The good news is, you’re supposed to be afraid to play your role. Your natural instincts will help you here.”
“I just have to have the courage to try,” Zoe says. “I’m ready.”
Zoe hands her leash that is attached to her collar to Puma. She watches as Puma gives her one final look over and swears she can see her tongue jut out from between her lips.
“Damn. You’re going to taste good,” Puma teases.
“Hey!! What’s that supposed to mean?” Zoe whines.
“You’ll find out. Come on.”
Zoe takes a deep breath as she’s led by the neck, still naked, into the radio tower. The station appears ancient to Zoe, who was born into a world of touchscreens and always-on internet. But here, a simple station with hard buttons, knobs, and switches controls the relay that could subdue the entire LFD in seconds if activated.
Just in front of the control board, four men sit at a table playing cards. The cards have naked women on them, but instead of pinups, they are pictures of women cooking in various perilous positions.
Zoe watches one of the men put his hand of four queens down as he sees Puma leading Zoe inside. Zoe gulps loudly.
*It’s showtime, Zoe Sanders. Just remember your time in theatre club...*
“Now, just a minute. You can’t be in here,” one of the guards says.
“Now, now, boys,” Puma says, raising a hand. “I brought something just for you.”
Puma aggressively tugs on Zoe’s leash as she presents Zoe to them.
“Hello, big, strong men,” Zoe begins in what she feels is a soft, sultry voice. “My owner wanted to offer me as a treat for you hard-working studs, all of you making the sacrifice to serve our great country on our biggest holiday. Today is ALL about hearing a woman’s right to consent, isn’t it?”
Zoe trembles as two of the men stand up and begin to walk around her. Another begins to loosen his belt as the one in charge steps right in front of Zoe, looking down.
“You’re right about that, sow. This holiday is all about MEN getting the honor of harvesting whatever delicious little meal they want. So, tell us what you consent to, little sow.”
Zoe feels Puma pull at her leash, and she steadies herself.
“Tell them, sow,” Puma commands.
*Be brave... be brave...*
"Well, I absolutely consent to being your dinner tonight. Please? Would you please cook me?"
Zoe feels the weight of the world on her shoulders as she sees the men's full attention on her and notices that Puma has begun to slip toward the control board.
"Oh, who would EVER turn down a request like that?" the lead guard says as they all laugh. "But you're going to have to provide us some relief first. Do you understand?"
Zoe feels the lead guard grab her by the jaw and pull her head up. As he does, he examines her neck.
"Say, how can you be a sow if you can speak? Where's your neck scar?"
Zoe sees Puma freeze, looking over to signal that their cover is in jeopardy. Zoe realizes that what she says next will seal their fate.
[[Have Zoe say "I'm just waiting for you to be the one to fuck my throat, daddy." ->Zoe Ending]]
[[Have Zoe say "I'm just waiting for you to be the one to slit my throat, daddy." ->Radio 2]]Puma throws one of her blades into the shoulder of the nearest guard, who drops from the impact. A second blade flies past the face of another, and as he turns his head, he is met with her flying fist. She sweeps the leg of a third and throws a jumping knee into the fourth, rendering all four guards incapacitated before the battle even begins.
"Holy shit, Puma, you're a badass," Zoe says as she rises to her feet.
"You didn't do so bad yourself, Zoe. You have a warrior's heart."
"Well, thank you," Zoe says, taking a bow. "That sure was scary for a minute there, but I have a different feeling now. It feels... exciting?"
"Don't get addicted," Puma says, pulling one of her Chainr out of the man's shoulder before rolling him onto his back and tying his arms behind his back. "Or do. I know I am. The difference is, I would never let my lust for victory put me in such a poor position."
Puma slaps the man on the back of the head as they both walk out of the radio tower, but not before retrieving her second Chainr from the wall.
"You're just amazing, Puma. You didn't kill anyone, you didn't take a blow, AND your blades didn't even hit the floor."
"Not yet," Puma says with a smile at Zoe. "Come on. Let's catch up to the others."
[if trail.includes('FreedomE')]
Phoenix and Blueberry are all set.
[else]
[[Follow Phoenix and Blueberry to meet the police head-on in their effort to convince them that they cannot legally stop your demonstration. ->Freedom A]]
[if trail.includes('RadioE')]
Zoe and Puma are all set.
[else]
[[Follow Puma and Zoe to the radio tower in their effort to shut down the emergency system that would render the LFD incapacitated. ->Radio Tower]]
[if trail.includes('Floats 2')]
Scarlett is all set.
[else]
[[Follow Scarlett as she rushes to the front of the parade in her effort to convince the Dolcett Day volunteers that there is a better life than becoming a holiday plate. ->Floats]]
[if trail.includes('FreedomE') & trail.includes ('RadioE') & trail.includes ('Floats 2')]
[[Advance to - Friday Noon, Town Square ->Duel One]]
[else]You do not get any rest on the winding ride to the place where you’ll almost certainly be eaten. Luckily, trees shade most of the way, because when the sun beats down on the roof of the truck, you can feel your skin burning—a preface for what’s clearly to come. You try to quiet your mind and plan out every potential avenue of escape—win over the wife, seduce the husband, offer yourself as a slave—but every time you start to plot, your strategy session is interrupted by a nearby car.
The first is full of teenagers yelling at you, “When is dinner going to be on the table?” The second is an old man catcalling you with vulgar names and raising the beer he’s drinking as he passes by. The third is a woman wearing a heart-shaped collar necklace who remarks that you’re a “good-looking future trophy.”
What Theron says next chills you to your core.
“Oh, that’s okay, we grind up the bones for compost.”
Your hope is nearly lost as the car slows slows on a dirt road and weaves into a driveway. You try to move your head to get a feel for your surroundings, no idea if you're an hour closer to Zoe or farther away as you take in a large homestead that has a small farm. As you’re unstrapped from the roof and brought back to your feet, your ankles are zip tied as you’re led to a large home at the center of the property.
No, it’s not just a home, you realize, it's a remodeled barn that serves as a primary residence. You feel your breath taken away as the place is gorgeous—recently refurbished in "modern farmhouse" style, with thousands of square feet of open floor plan spread across the living room, dining room, and kitchen.
Just as you allow yourself to get swept away in the rustic, dream like escape of the home, you see Ella, his wife, just turning around as a large pot simmers behind her, her wooden spoon damp with tomato sauce. She's wearing a frilly apron over comfortable overalls and an undershirt, and she rushes over with a smile and jumps into Theron’s arms for a kiss.
As they share a passionate embrace, you can’t help but notice her eyes opening and scanning you up and down. As she steps back, a coy smile flashes across her face.
“So…let's see what my provider brought me today..."
She walks around you, rubbing a hand over your belly, thigh, and rump, giving gentle squeezes as she nods.
“Mmm hmmmm. A bit older than we’re used to, but very lean. About 135 pounds…and…you came with all of your sausage casing?!” she says, glee shining through her voice as she exclaims the last words.
There's something about the softness in the way that she touches you - you expect it to frighten or frustrate you, but she has a way she glides with her fingers that starts to turn you on cue.
On cue, her expression changes, and she leans in and press her nose on your neck.
“I can smell my husband on you." She says as she leans back and stares at you. "Did he fuck you?”
Her eyes narrow as one of her hands slides down your naval and doesn’t pause as two fingers slide in your cunt. She takes a second to rub your G spot before bringing those fingers back into her mouth. As she does, you can see some of his semen on her fingers as she sucks them dry.
“Mmmmm. You came TOO, didn’t you? Good. Studies show that an orgasm before death does help flavor the meat, you know. But it has to be JUST at the moment you expire to really soak the flavor in your flesh.”
She looks over at Theron and nods.
“Would it be alright with you, sweetheart, if I show our guest of honor to the culling room?"
"Yes, but I want my dinner on the table by six. No later."
"That should be plenty of time for one final release out of this doe."
They kiss, practically groping each other.
"I'm going to take a shower and change."
“Ok, while you do that, let me give our guest the tour.”
Ella leads you by the neck over to the stove, where she has assembled tomatoes, carrots, celery, and onions on a cutting board. You see the large pot beckoning you, part of you knowing you'll soon be inside, browning and mixing with the assembled ingredients. Your eyes drift over as you see wine, milk, olive oil, salt, and pepper lined up across the counter, with a mason jar of a thick liquid at the end.
"You're at the beginning of the process..." she says as a hand traces down your belly. "...this is what you'll be at the end." She picks up the jar of broth and raises it in front of your eyes.
As she sets the jar down, you see a dozen larger jars, clean and empty, lids nearby, waiting.
Waiting to be filled with your sauce and canned for later.
You hear a beeping as she sets the kitchen timer for 30 minutes.
"I need you to get you cooking by then, or I'll have to use the last cull's meat for this batch. But thirty minutes is MORE than enough..."
As she pulls you by the neck into a side room, a former bathroom, now remodeled to be the place they slaughter "does" lucky enough to be brought home alive. You're brought to a chain with a hook hanging from the ceiling, with Ella looping the sharp metal at the tie holding your ankles together. As she grabs a control panel, a chain system slowly lifts you up, until you hang just over a drain on the floor.
You realize that you were so caught up in the moment that you should've tried to escape by now. As you stare at the various knives hanging all over the walls, and the stacks of butcher paper, plastic wrap, and styrofoam trays on shelves, you feel yourself give up.
*There's no hope. I don't even know where I am, or what time it is. I'll never save-*
Sunlight flashes in your eyes through the only window that exists in this place, and as you peer through it, you see something that shocks you. The banquet hall is RIGHT there - this homestead complex is practically a neighbor to the Baron. And, if the sun is still shining, there is STILL a chance to save Zoe.
But first, you have to save yourself. And to do that, you're going to have to do whatever you can to not orgasm in the next thirty minutes, to force Ella to go cook with another doe's flesh and give you your chance.
"Now, LET'S SEE what I'm making for dinner tonight." Ella wonders aloud.
The rustic housewife walks three circles around your dangling body, squeezing and apprasing, before grabbing a magic marker off the shelf. As she opens the cap and shakes it, you notice it smells like salt and peppercorn. She holds you still and begins to draw lines on your body.
Dotted lines.
"Does this get you going? You don't have to hide what you really are from me." She says, drawing a line across a line across just under your calf. "No woman who ever volunteers for a hunt that doesn't get off on the thought of being caught. Well, you are VERY caught, little doe."
She doesn't break her concentration or even look away as she slides her other hand up your thigh, two fingers again plunging into your cunt.
You moan as you feel her dry fingers soak in your moist pussy. She's right about you - you DO get off on being caught. And you can feel an orgasm racing to completion already, just as she starts to write a word just across your ankle.
"SHANK"
"I don't know how you got your calves and forearms so strong, but gosh, I have JUST the recipe for meat like this. I'm going to sear these fresh in a pan, with the bone still in the center, and then soak them in a bolognese sauce and slide them in the oven."
She begins to increase the pace of her fingers and you gasp out, your leg beginning to twitch.
"While your shanks turn fork tender in the oven, I'm going to make homemade spaghetti noodles from scratch. I'm going to serve your sauce and shredded meat on top of the pasta, and finish you off with just a little cheese."
You start to breathe loudly and your eyes close as you feel an orgasm is imminent.
"Speaking of finishing you off, you're done already. How do you want to go out? Should I speed my hand up and send you off with a bang, or should I keep my rhythm steady and milk it out of you one pump at a time??
[[You think back to what made you cum earlier today. Tell her to keep pace - you don't want to go over the edge. ->Spaghetti Dinner]]
[[You remember how good Theron's fingers were hours before. Ask her for the opposite. Ask her to speed up and hope it jars your brain back to reality. ->Finger Bang]]Entrant: interactive fiction competition 2026
Welcome to one more week in dulcet, Scarlett Sky.
One weekend dual set two is an action adventure story set in a cannibalistic world. It features scenes of dubious consent, extreme depictions of death, various sexual acts, and is not for the week of heart. It also contains complex conversations about the nature of existence, the challenges of trying to make a difference, and the value of one person's life over another. In this story I've tried to challenge the boundaries of what is possible in erotic fiction. I both try to stimulate the erotic in intense scenes of peril while also having the reader think deeply about the characters, their choices, and the world they and we live in. This is not a story for the week of heart, and to be paused and consumed at the leisure of the reader. It is everything and nothing about what it is like to be a reader of this genre, and I hope at the very least it can entertain in ways that one may not have possibly imagine before.
I wrote One weekend. All set because readers of this genre deserve a and all time story. I'm hoping that I was able to deliver it.
The original story scored very well on nsfw cyoa, scoring plus 118 and resulting in dozens of satisfied readers through comments and direct messages. While this story format is less common on this subreddit, it has been deemed as allowable and has been enjoyed in a traditional choose your adventure style. I only asked that you give your consideration to a tail that puts a reader in the driver's seat of various sexual and or radically perilous situations as you choose the best course to survive, or potential, to enjoy a sexy demise.
I am as always available for comments below, direct messages, or even email about the story. I'm very grateful for anyone willing to give it an opportunity and any feedback positive or negative. I have spent half a year developing the story and outcomes that follow, and is my only wish to bring Joy and satisfaction to those willing to travel alongside Scarlett Sky on her journey of self-actualization and we're changing bravado that only she is capable of.
Cheers
Strict smile 2087Just as your hunter raises his palm to the other hunter, you decide to make your go for it.
You plant one foot in the ground and slam your left shoulder directly into your hunter’s sternum, knocking the wind out of him and loosening his grip just enough for you to slide the rope out of his hand as you take off at a full sprint into the forest. You can feel the rush of excitement as you’re making it—running and running and running and—
You can hear him behind you, chasing you. It’s hard to sprint with your arms tied tightly behind your back. Your shoulders are flailing wildly, and your breasts are bouncing without any support. You feel yourself losing ground just as you start to feel an impossibly sharp tug at your neck, and you’re thrown backward, landing on your back, your body tumbling over you.
You try to stand back up, and you get more than you bargain for as you feel yourself suddeenly lifted off the ground, hanging by the throat. You look and see that your hunter has looped the rope back over a nearby tree branch. He smiles at you as he pulls you higher as you gasp for air, your legs swingly wildly for the ground they can no longer reach.
You try to mouth the word “fresh” to remind him of his goal: to bring you home to his wife, closer to the kill. You’re unable to verbalizee anything as the other hunter catches up, walks over, and looks up at you.
"Man, she sure is a spry one. Why haven't you snuffed her already?" the fat hunter asks.
"Oh, the wife does enjoy her harvest as fresh as possible. We have a whole procedure: get them nice and relaxed, and then process them at climax - really adds a layer of flavor to the meat."
"Yeah, well, that one's flooded with endorphins now, and not the good kind." the fat hunter says. "Just look at her. It's going to take days to get her as relaxed as you want now..."
Your brain screams in frustration at the irony of listening to a conversation about how non-relaxing it must be for you to be strangling to death as you dangle in front of them.
"Damn, you're right..."
"Tell you what. She's looking awful tasty and I wouldn't mind having a bit of her in my cooler to take home. Why don't you just let her hang? We'll take our kills back to lodge. You have a little bit of mine. I have a little bit of yours."
You can't decide what's more humilating - that you're going to die naked hanging by the neck in a forest after cuming all over your hunter's cock, or that you're being haggled over in your final seconds as you die.
Black circles form over your eyes as you watch the two men shake hands, your final realization being that you're now just a bartered item to bewrapped in butcher paper, stored in a cooler, and brought back to be served. The kicking of your legs slows as drool leaks out of your mouth, and one final shiver races through your body as you go still. The last thing you feel is a little bit of your hunter's DNA leak out of your cunt and drip on the floor underneath you as you feel yourself die.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
"Come on man, I just want ONE."
A man in a butcher smock with a clipboard continues to take notes and looks rather impatient.
Your body hangs lifeless in the processing room - gutted, neck slit, wrists bled out, dry blood down your face and belly. The only thing keeping you company is Becky's body, which hangs in similar fashion next to yours, spinning lifelessly as a hand turns her in circles. You share the same defeated stare in your eyes, now fully reflected in each others.
"Alright, alright, you can have one breast, but I'm keeping her whole rump," your hunter says.
"Come on, man, the WHOLE thing? You're just saying that because your girl is so lean," the fat hunter pleads.
"Well...my wife is partial to making Italian food." your hunter considers. "How about this - I'll trade you have her rump, but I want some of those spare ribs."
The fat hunter takes a moment to spin you around and squeezes at your left cheek.
"You have a deal. I'm not a rib guy anyhow," the fat hunter agrees.
"Are you two done? Can I get to work now?" the butcher asks impatiently.
"Yeah, yeah, that's our order. Thanks." your hunter confirms.
The two men leave the slaughterhouse area to enjoy a beer in the lodge as the butcher gets to work portioning you and Rebecca out, cut after cut. Each piece is wrapped in butcher paper, labeled with a letter to identify which doe it came from and what cut it is. By the time they emerge, two Styrofoam coolers are ready for pickup.
Your hunter scoops up the container of packed, wrapped cuts and gleefully walks it back to his truck, placing it in the seat next to him. He turns the engine, pulls out of the lodge, and calls his wife.
"I've got good and bad news. Yes, I bagged a doe. No, I couldn't take her alive, sorry. But, I got all the cuts you asked for, plus some extra ones."
He laughs.
"Yeah, I made a good deal. So..."
He taps his hand on the cooler.
"...what are we having for dinner tonight?"
*************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs AM, The Hunt Begins ->Begin Hunt]]"Leaving. NOW."
You continue to march Zoe out the door as you begin to hear the waiter calling for you to come back. You don't turn around as you shove Zoe out the door and then pick her up over your shoulder and run down the street as she kicks and punches. You, not slowing you down as you have trained with Puma for long enough to handle the weight.
In fact, you've been carrying the weight of saving women exactly like Zoe for 5 years.. the goods and the bads. The beginnings...and the ends.
As you set her down, she starts to cry.
"Now, listen to me..." you say as you try to catch your breath.
"I'm not listening to you. Did you see what they were doing to that poor girl?"
"Did YOU see what they were doing?" you retort.
"Of course I did. They were going to eat her! And you didn't even TRY to save her!"
"We can't save everyone, Zoe. I'm here to save you, plain and simple."
"Why me?"
"Because you're innocent."
"And SHE wasn't?"
"Things... just aren't that simple here."
"YOU just said they were. You said—plain and simple."
"Yes, but my point is..."
You take a moment to not let yourself become overwhelmed.
"You aren't supposed to be here."
"Then WHY am I here?"
"That's a good question. It's almost like..."
You pause as you stare down the street.
"...you were sent here to get ME here."
"What makes YOU so important, Claire?"
You stop to think for a moment.
"How did you get booked on this trip, anyway?" you ask.
"It was some lady at SkyCorp...I don't remember her name."
"Think, Zoe. This could be really important," you implore.
"It was..."
Zoe suddenly gasps and looks over at you, her mouth agape.
"WAIT a minute. Did you ORDER me?" Zoe screeches out.
"...I ordered you to save you."
"Um, you said 'full roast with a citrus glaze', I don't even LIKE oranges. So you were saving me for what? Your dinner?!
"I got you out of there, didn't I?"
"Yeah, just to probably eat me later." Zoe says as she pouts. "I don't want to go anywhere with you. You're a meanie."
"No, I'm saving your ass."
You call Jenna.
"I've got the girl. What's the next flight out of here?"
"Great job, Scarlett, great job. It's, um, well, uh..." Jenna's voice trails off, like she's whispering to someone else.
"Who are you talking to?"
"...DLF concierge. They're saying... sold out. Sorry."
"No standby? Nothing?"
"Sorry. There's a... 9:50 a.m. with two seats left. I'll book it now."
"Thank you, Jenna. You're a lifesaver. See you tomorrow."
You put your phone back in your pocket.
"Well... it looks like we're stuck here one night. How about we just go to sleep—"
You look up, and Zoe is halfway down the street. You sigh, but you've caught your breath. All you have to do find a good stride and you'll be caught up to Zoe in a matter of seconds. You don't rush, as she's clearly in sight and it's only a Monday night. It's only on Wednesday nights, after the horn sounds, that an umarried woman can't be on the street. Because on Wednesday, it's—
"Scarlett Sky."
You stop dead in your tracks as your name, your real name, echoes through your head. You turn in the direction from which it was shouted and see a man sitting at a small table outside a coffee shop. He raises a hand and beckons you to join him.
"It's time you sat with me for a moment."
[[Zoe is by herself in Dolcett again, and therefore in danger. Turn your back on this strange man and walk away.->Back Turned]]
[[Whoever this person is, he knows your real name. It's too much of a risk to leave this unchecked. Go talk to him, but keep your guard up.->Leikr Appears]]MINDBREAK
[[OMG OVEN ROASTED CARLEE ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[I WANT TO BE OVEN ROASTED SCARLEEE ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[SHES LOOKING SO FUCKING DELICIOUS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[COOKED ALIVE I BET ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[FELT THE HEAT ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[SHE SMELLED HERSELF COOKING ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[GOSH I WANT TO BE COOKED BY A PROFESSIONAL ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[SEASONED PERFECTLY ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[MY SKIN SO CRISP THAT IT HAS TO BE PEELED OFF WITH YOUR HANDS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND OMG THE PERFECT COMPLEMENT TO MY SUCCULENT MEAT ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[IS MY CRISPY SKIN ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND POTATOTES ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND VEGGIES ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND A HOT FUCKING OVEN ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[I WANT TO BE ON THE MENU ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[I WANT TO BE SERVED ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND EATEN ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND CARVED AT THIS TABLE RIGHT FUCKING NOW ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[IM GOING TO TELL THEM ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[ROAST ME ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[ROAST ME RIGHT FUCKING NOW ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[GET ZOE OUT OF HERE RIGHT FUCKING NOW ->Time to go]]-[[SERVE ME ON A PLATTER JUST LIKE THIS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND ID MAKE GREAT MEATBALLS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND DUMPLINGS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND STEAK ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[GOSH GOSH GOSH ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[OMG OVEN ROASTED CARLEE ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[I WANT TO BE OVEN ROASTED SCARLEEE ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[SHES LOOKING SO FUCKING DELICIOUS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[COOKED ALIVE I BET ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[FELT THE HEAT ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[SHE SMELLED HERSELF COOKING ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[GOSH I WANT TO BE COOKED BY A PROFESSIONAL ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[SEASONED PERFECTLY ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[MY SKIN SO CRISP THAT IT HAS TO BE PEELED OFF WITH YOUR HANDS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND OMG THE PERFECT COMPLEMENT TO MY SUCCULENT MEAT ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[IS MY CRISPY SKIN ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND POTATOTES ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND VEGGIES ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND A HOT FUCKING OVEN ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[I WANT TO BE ON THE MENU ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[I WANT TO BE SERVED ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND EATEN ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND CARVED AT THIS TABLE RIGHT FUCKING NOW ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[IM GOING TO TELL THEM ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[ROAST ME ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[ROAST ME RIGHT FUCKING NOW ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[GET ZOE OUT OF HERE RIGHT FUCKING NOW ->Time to go]]-[[SERVE ME ON A PLATTER JUST LIKE THIS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND ID MAKE GREAT MEATBALLS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND DUMPLINGS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND STEAK ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[GOSH GOSH GOSH ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[OMG OVEN ROASTED CARLEE ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[I WANT TO BE OVEN ROASTED SCARLEEE ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[SHES LOOKING SO FUCKING DELICIOUS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[COOKED ALIVE I BET ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[FELT THE HEAT ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[SHE SMELLED HERSELF COOKING ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[GOSH I WANT TO BE COOKED BY A PROFESSIONAL ->Ordered Torso Roast]]
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[[OMG OVEN ROASTED CARLEE ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[I WANT TO BE OVEN ROASTED SCARLEEE ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[SHES LOOKING SO FUCKING DELICIOUS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[COOKED ALIVE I BET ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[FELT THE HEAT ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[SHE SMELLED HERSELF COOKING ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[GOSH I WANT TO BE COOKED BY A PROFESSIONAL ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[SEASONED PERFECTLY ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[MY SKIN SO CRISP THAT IT HAS TO BE PEELED OFF WITH YOUR HANDS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND OMG THE PERFECT COMPLEMENT TO MY SUCCULENT MEAT ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[IS MY CRISPY SKIN ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND POTATOTES ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND VEGGIES ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND A HOT FUCKING OVEN ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[I WANT TO BE ON THE MENU ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[I WANT TO BE SERVED ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND EATEN ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND CARVED AT THIS TABLE RIGHT FUCKING NOW ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[IM GOING TO TELL THEM ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[ROAST ME ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[ROAST ME RIGHT FUCKING NOW ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[GET ZOE OUT OF HERE RIGHT FUCKING NOW ->Time to go]]-[[SERVE ME ON A PLATTER JUST LIKE THIS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND ID MAKE GREAT MEATBALLS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND DUMPLINGS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND STEAK ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[GOSH GOSH GOSH ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[OMG OVEN ROASTED CARLEE ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[I WANT TO BE OVEN ROASTED SCARLEEE ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[SHES LOOKING SO FUCKING DELICIOUS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[COOKED ALIVE I BET ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[FELT THE HEAT ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[SHE SMELLED HERSELF COOKING ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[GOSH I WANT TO BE COOKED BY A PROFESSIONAL ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[SEASONED PERFECTLY ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[MY SKIN SO CRISP THAT IT HAS TO BE PEELED OFF WITH YOUR HANDS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND OMG THE PERFECT COMPLEMENT TO MY SUCCULENT MEAT ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[IS MY CRISPY SKIN ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND POTATOTES ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND VEGGIES ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND A HOT FUCKING OVEN ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[I WANT TO BE ON THE MENU ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[I WANT TO BE SERVED ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND EATEN ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND CARVED AT THIS TABLE RIGHT FUCKING NOW ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[IM GOING TO TELL THEM ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[ROAST ME ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[ROAST ME RIGHT FUCKING NOW ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[GET ZOE OUT OF HERE RIGHT FUCKING NOW ->Time to go]]-[[SERVE ME ON A PLATTER JUST LIKE THIS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND ID MAKE GREAT MEATBALLS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND DUMPLINGS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[AND STEAK ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[GOSH GOSH GOSH ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[OMG OVEN ROASTED CARLEE ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[I WANT TO BE OVEN ROASTED SCARLEEE ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[SHES LOOKING SO FUCKING DELICIOUS ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[COOKED ALIVE I BET ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[FELT THE HEAT ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[SHE SMELLED HERSELF COOKING ->Ordered Torso Roast]]-[[GOSH I WANT TO BE COOKED BY A PROFESSIONAL ->Ordered Torso Roast]]
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}, 15_000);The death certificate comes back into play later
Charlene is the orchestrator of the whole plot. She has her fingers and Jenna in the end of the original story which shows that Jenna is controlled in breaking down, but his left as a pawn to one day take over for Scarlett when she makes a mistake.
Charlene learns through Jenna that Puma is becoming more and more impatient with her job as she continues to mention that Scarlett's training is complete. She correctly surmises that Puma plans to eat Scarlet and sets up Zoe to be sent adults that to put that plan into motion. Ideally, either Puma eats Scarlet which is a disappointment for Charlene because Charlene would have preferred to eat Scarlet, but at the very least what's Jenna in control of those that Corp and restores her natural balance of order. Her other plan is that Scarlett kills Puma freeing up Jenna to finish off Scarlett take over the business and restore the national order as Puma would take revenge on Charlene if she acted sooner
Charlene does not anticipate that Scarlett joins a national resistance movement. The ladies for dolceett lfd and changes the entire order of the way women are organized and represented through their own kind via revolution. Charlene pivots to killing Scarlet anyway Phoenix will trust. Jenna, as Scarlett's liaison and confidant to respect her wishes by encouraging her to represent interests that are in Charlene's best interest. Charlene quickly sets herself up to operate as the sole receiver of willing women indelset with a plan to work her fingers inside of Phoenix and turn her into a puppet president where women are wanting an eaten and Charlene rules forever.His eyes narrow as you freeze in place.
"...on a fucking plate."
You struggle as you're forced over a large sink, and you know that very soon, your blood will be going down the drain as you're processed. Still, you struggle, not wanting to give in, not wanting to feel the heat or know that you'll be cooked alive.
Circumstances take place just after that make you realize that none of these fears will be realized.
"We're getting killed out there. They've eaten most of the appetizers and hors d'oeuvres. We need something quick. "
"Well, it turns out we've got something we can serve raw right here."
You panic for a minute as you're led over to a large meat grinder. You gasp as they line you up, with the head chef leaning over to the staff.
"Tell anyone waiting - we're going to have carpaccio coming out in just a few minutes. We just got to get it on some ice to chill after we grind her up."
You're slowly forced into a meat grinder not only grinds your flesh into a hamburger-like substance, but expertly sifts and sorts the bones out. They're eager and quick to prepare plates and bring you out, a quick culinary delight to be passed around the banquet before the main course, including Zoe, is served.The goal of the Saturday sequence is if the reader has come this far and has really read over several hours of this story and been saturated in the sexuality and peril and challenges of being eaten, that this scene is so intensely perfect in a setup of dubious consent and sexuality and submission and surrender all of the concepts of the story about that all of sex and exchange of power and and surrender and and being consumed. And all of these things are placed in a singular moment. A perfectly written of and wrote Suzuki style surrender scene where the reader who even isn't aroused get aroused. That's the goal
In the meantime, there's mind breaks and memory challenges safe word and repetition and all of these extreme challenges. But deep down it is a highly sexual. Seeing that should arouse any living being especially have made the journey. It can be as long as you want. People have come this far and the ending should pay it all off if they don't want to do it again.
The reason that Charlene is the end of the story in the beginning of the story is that Charlene is the physical manifestation of Scarlett's desires. Scarlett has to get through. Charlene, because Scarlett can never be free of her desires and self-internalize that there is a way to experience those things at a pleasurable way without taking out what she thinks is her brain is fantasy to realize the component that she is missing true loveYou try and and flatten yourself as much possible so that the saws will go by you, as opposed to through you. As you feel the heat from the spinning blade come across your throat, you feel like you had made the right choice, as you don't initially feel the sting.
But then, you feel the wind knocked out of your throat as blood splatters from your throat as the saw cuts clean through you. Your spine is still attached, but your neck is split just enough for your blood to rushing out.
You lose control of your body just as a vertical blade comes down your breastbone, slicing you open, with your guts spilling out. Your hands fall limply down just as a third blade comes and slits your wrists.
Mechanical hands come nex to begin seperating you, but you're long gone before they begin.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
*************
At a Dolcett Day barbecue across town from where you were slaughtered, a huge spread is on display. A middle class family in suburbia has overspent their monthly budget to ensure that their guests go home with bellies full- with steaks, burgers, ribs, and all types of potluck sides on display for this feast to commemorate a woman's right to consent.
You are displayed as well as a part of this feast. When you were slit open by the mechanical saw and your organs plopped down on a lower conveyor belt, they were quickly washed off, cleaned out, and stuffed with your ground meat. Now, your remaining legacy is not of a main course, but as a side item.
Five years in charge of skycorp. Thirty Five years on this Earth. And yet, only three of the five sausage links that were purchased by this family and grilled as a part of this backyard barbecue are eaten. The other two are casually thrown in the trash, as is common in many barbecues, where more food is served than needed.
Regardless, one guest mentions you by name - well, that you made good sausage, a spicy treat to go along with the rest of the spread, with nothing else about your existence being mentioned ever again.
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Conveyor Belt ->Convey 1]]“Listen to me,” you say as you begin untying the woman strapped to the spitting machine. “All of you thought that if there were any day when you wouldn’t have to volunteer yourselves to make your husbands look good or bring pride to their family name, it would be this day. But look at you now.”
You untie the woman from the spitting machine, and she listens closely.
“You’re being paraded down the street with what—a name tag bearing his name? Not even your own name, which has already been forgotten, so you can be cooked in a public spectacle and handed out to diners who will never know who you are. Doesn’t that seem unfair to you?”
You pull the woman out of the soup cauldron and set her down on the float.
“Now, if you’re listening to the sound of my voice…”
You notice that the parade onlookers are now filming you as well.
“…I know that none of you ever desired a fate like this. I know that when you were young women, you didn’t dream of being in chains and then in men’s stomachs. Join the Ladies for Dolcett and help us stand up for what this holiday is supposed to be about—a woman’s right to choose whatever fate she desires.”
You smile as you unstrap the woman tied to an oven roasting pan.
“So, if you believe in the same things I do, then march with us to the town square. Show that you don’t consent to this. Stand for the belief that any woman can be whatever she wants in this world!”
You look around at the untied float, waiting for a response. For a second, every camera seems a little bigger. The spectacle of the moment, the success of the entire operation, feels like it hinges on their response.
One of the women slowly steps forward.
“I don’t know. I’ve fantasized about being eaten for as long as I can remember. Granted, I didn’t think I would go out this way, but still…”
Another steps toward you.
“Yeah, and aren’t the Ladies for Dolcett a terrorist group? Everything they do is illegal. I don’t want to die as a criminal.”
A third joins the group, with the rest following behind.
“I helped my husband snuff my best friend so I could take her place as his wife and be safe. I’m not going to dishonor my family and her sacrifice by following some stranger on a suicide misssion…”
She wipes away a tear as the women hug her.
“…you’re on your own!”
The women go back to their stations, ready to be tied back into position. You shake your head and realize that you’ve lost the people, too. A bottle cracks you upside the head, a projectile thrown from a location you didn’t see coming. You hear booing as the onlookers turn on you as well as the LFD, and the police step in to stop a full-scale riot.
A brief revolution takes place, but not the one you were hoping for. Your failed pitch has doomed Phoenix’s protest, and her prediction that the LFD would likely end on Friday has come true—all because you refused to honor your true self.
GAME OVER. YOU AND THE LFD WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
You stand in a single-file line in the town square that you had planned to march to in order to inspire a revolution. Instead, you are being slowly marched for an execution.
One by one, you watch as the Ladies for Dolcett are led to a guillotine, have their necks placed in stocks, and have their head severed by the unrelenting blade. The people you'd hoped to inspire to join your movement did get involved – but on the side of the police, subduing your uprising. Now, they surround the town square, eager to soon dine on your flesh, along with Phoenix's, Blueberry's, Zoe's, and Puma's.
The police have decided to save the leaders of the movement for last. Soon, it just Phoenix standing in front of you. The rest of your comrades are being cleaned out, cut up, and slapped on grills that were rolled into town to operate a makeshift barbecue to celebrate your defeat.
"I'm so sorry," you say to Phoenix.
"Don't be. We all gave it our best shot. I'm sure we inspired at least one woman to think a little deeper about her existence. It's a seed. One day, that seed will sprout, and all women will be free."
"Next."
You watch as Phoenix is shoved down into the guillotine and locked into place. You grimace as you watch the blade slice off her head, her body quaking as her head rolls down the sidewalk. Her body is hung up in front of you as she's bled out, sliced open from navel to breast, so her guts can be removed and she can be added to the rows of women who are already on the grill.
You're shoved in the guillotine next. You bite your lip, and stick out your hips. There is something erotic even about this, as for so long you’ve dreamed of this exact moment – the undeniable second that you were absolutely conq-
The blade severs your neck before you can finish the thought, the eroticism you'd hope to enjoy fleeting as your head is removed from your body. You feel yourself picked up, and a familiar face stares at you. You gasp as your final realization is that a fear that you have had throughout the week will become reality.
You'll end up a trophy after all.
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Friday AM: Inside the Parade ->Assault]]“You need to get out of here, Zoe...”
“But Scarlett, I can’t just leave you. She’s going to roast you alive. You’re literally in a pan right now, soaked and marinated, and I know a thing or two about cooking—and that oven is ready to cook you alive.”
“I know... The thing is…I want it.”
“No... You’re more than this, Scarlett. You have to remember what Puma told you. Don’t you remember? It’s how closely you can come to giving in, and yet pull back, that gives you—”
“Puma was WRONG, Zoe. She doesn’t know me. The only person who truly knows me is... Char.”
Charlene grins as she eagerly taps her knife against your pan.
“She’s the only person who has ever truly understood my desires. I tried to resist her. I tried to follow the training that Puma suggested, but it’s not who I really am.”
You sigh loudly in surrender.
“I belong in an oven, Zoe. It’s what I want. I want to feel myself cook alive, and I want to be eaten by Char.”
“But... There has to be more for you than this. Isn’t there something—or someone—worth staying for?”
“No. I succeeded, Zoe. I completed my mission. Women in North Carolina, the United States, and now Dolcett are all finally safe from being eaten without their consent. We changed the world together. This was the only purpose that kept me from giving in to my desires. And now that I am just me, I am ready to roast.”
“Well, I’m not leaving.”
“Yes, you are. I won’t sit here and let Charlene roast you, too. There’s still hope for you. Go home, get married, start a family. Find a meaning that’s deeper and better than lust—maybe that’s the one thing I was missing. I guess I’ll never know now.”
“Scarlett... I...”
“Zoe, you need to get the FUCK out of here. Forget about me. Forget about Dolcett. Push down everything that you’ve learned and go back to who you were. It’s the only chance you’re going to have to fight off your desires. Otherwise...”
You lean your head back in the pan.
“...otherwise, you’re going to end up just like me.”
Tears run down Zoe’s face, and she slowly backpedals. You don’t look at her again, but you can hear her crying as she runs out of the kitchen, slamming the foyer door, never to return.
“I’m ready, Charlene.” you assent.
“No, that’s not enough. I want to hear it. One more time, for me, darling. Say it.”
"I..."
You feel your face flush with arousal as your body quakes aching for the release that is building, despite you not even being touched.
"I want, no, I NEED to be eaten. I absolutely crave nothing else in this world and to be consumed by YOU. I want to feel the knife sliding into my chest and cutting me-"
"OOF…"
You feel Char’s knife stick into your sternum just as her fingers slide inside of you. Your entire body vibrates with the pleasure and pain of being gutted alive while you’re fingered to a perfect orgasm, the rush and intensity of sensations sending your body into a rippling shock.
The noises that propel out of your lungs are sounds unlike anything that you've ever heard. It's some mixture of moaning, screaming, acceptance, lusting, pain, and release. Whenever that sound is finally over, you see Charlene’s hand soaked in blood as she carefully stores your organs in a freezer bag.
Her other hand is soaked in your cum.
Your eyes glaze over as Char licks her first taste of your cunt off her fingers, her long journey to consume you finally complete.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
In a white dress, in an immaculate hall, Zoe stands with a veil over her face and flowers pressed to her chest. She hears the music begin, but her feet feel heavy. She hesitates, and her mother looks over in concern.
“What's wrong, Zoe? You're not acting like yourself.”
Zoe takes a deep breath as she stares out the window. She zones out for a moment as her brain tries to process the entirety of the insane events that took place in her week in Dolcett.
She's told no one about her journey. Who would believe her, anyway - that quiet, innocent Zoe Sanders was front and center at a revolution that changed an entire country.
No, she keeps all of it to herself. She’s learned from you that strong women keep all their true feelings locked tightly inside. They hide like Puma under masks to keep their true feelings silent, at the risk that, if they're ever exposed, it could lead to their own destruction.
Zoe puts her own mask back on, styling her hair to grow back just as her husband liked, wearing the dress he picked out, and preparing to step into the hall, where she will be bound to his will forever.
The wind stops, and Zoe's mother tries to get her attention once more.
“I said, you're not acting like yourself.”
“Sorry, I thought I was something else for a second. Something more. But…”
“But what?”
“But I'm ready. I'm ready to be Mrs. Brian Thompson.”
She loops arms with her mother, walks through the door that opens, and heads to the chapel to sign away her will, choices, and potential to a man who will keep her locked in his home—a trophy under a different name, forever.
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Saturday AM, Charlene's Kitchen ->HomeC Clean]]Charlene steps in and embraces you, taking a moment to breathe in the scent of your sweat off your neck.
"I know that you want it. Just say the word, and I'll give you everything you've ever dreamed of."
"I...I..."
"Oh, what's a matter darling? Can't bring yourself to admit you want to ROAST alive in my oven? Tell you what. Tell me you DON'T want it, and I'll let you go."
"I...um...I..."
Charlene grins as large as you've ever seen as her hands slips down your belly and over your mound.
"I'll take that as a 'Please stuff an apple in my mouth, I'm ready to be a good little roast beef.'"
Charlene slides two fingers inside your soaking cunt. You gasp out and your eyes literally cross at the nose, the pleasure so exquisite that you climax instantly, the waves of pleasure soaking through you with seemingly no end.
"Jenna, darling."
"Yes, Mistress."
"We will be having Roast Scarlett for dinner, with ALL the trimmings..."
"I can't wait, Mistress..."
"Trust me, my pet..." Charlene says as she kneads another orgasm out of you. "Either can I. I've waited long enough."
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
As Charlene slides you into the oven, you feel that the winds of destiny have finally swept you inside what you knew was your ultimate fate all along. As the door slams shut, the finality sets in. It has finally happened. After five years of aching, waning, wanting, masturbating - dreaming of this exact situation, you are FINALLY in Char's oven.
You will finally be roasted alive.
You will finally be served on a platter as her dinner.
The first thing you notice is the heat—it’s impossibly dry, like that July day you traveled to Las Vegas when there wasn’t a hint of humidity. The dry heat seems bearable for just the first few seconds before your body becomes overwhelmed, quivering in place. The only moisture available in this hot prison is the glaze on your skin and the sweat that quickly leeches out to mix, creating a unique flavor all your own.
A flavor that will soon be enjoyed on Char’s tongue.
Next, you notice how quickly your senses dim. The light from the electric stove is blinding, and you can’t keep your eyes open for longer than half a second. Worse yet, a salty, stinging, burning sweat pours into your eyes, rendering them useless, as that sweat is just as much an indicator that it is flavor leaving the meat rather than perspiration from a person.
The only sound that you recognize is the hum of the oven, but even that slowly becomes softer. Instead, it is replaced with a high-pitched scratching sound that calls for your name. No, a sound that calls for your sternum, as Char eagerly sharpens the knife that will gut you once she's ready to stuff you.
You feel a yearning of regret that you submitted too soon, because you will be long gone by the time she slices you open and harvests your organs. You hope that she stores them too, and consumes every last bit of you. That's always been your fantasy - to be completely and totally consumed, with not a bit of you left to waste.
With Charlene, you can expect nothing less. It’s just another reason you were always going to be hers. That you were always going to one day digest in her stomach.
The heat begins to make you delirious, and touch is the last part of you that slips away. You can’t feel yourself anymore, and as you take one last look at your roasting body, you see your skin—crispy, dark, and brown—and all of the limbs that you can no longer feel are still there. But they are no longer yours. They are meat, just like you are meat: a perfectly trussed, garnished, seasoned roast that will only be served with the best vegetables—soaked in the sauce of your own lust.
As you drift away, you feel a final orgasm shutter through your body, the moment so perfect that no physical contact on your cunt is necessary for you to reach climax. Your final exhale through your apple leaves a blissful expression on your face, your ultimate fantasy and longtime dream, finally complete.
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Saturday AM ->Jenna test]]Here it is, officer. My name is Scarlett Sky. I'm traveling from North Carolina. I'm here on a conversion-
You stop just as you realize you've given him your real name, your rather famous name, instead of your fake name. He looks at you curiously just as he opens your passport and looks down to see your fake name, and looks at you again, confused.
"Sorry, long flight. I meant to say my name was Claire. Claire Wood. Haha. You know, jet lag. You guys are on a whole different time zone?"
"...You're saying you mixed up your own name? Why does the name you said sounds so familiar..."
He begins to type something in his computer and you look over your shoulder to plan a potential escape. You notice there are multiple guards with AK-47s patrolling the airport, and one of them looks to have dried blood on his uniform. You look back at the immigration officer as you experience fear taking over your instincts.
He nods at the computer and smiles as he looks back at you.
"Ah. I see what the mix-up is here. You meant to say Claire. There's nothing wrong with that at all. Jet lag, of course. You go ahead now. I hope you find the conversion you've been dreaming of in Dolcett."
You eagerly take your passport and visa back and rush toward the exit. You keep your head on a swivel as you follow the signs and are relieved to see daylight just as you exit the terminal. You breathe a sigh of relief as the sunlight hits your face, but you don't even see it coming when a nightstick strikes the side of your head, knocking you unconscious before you even hit the ground.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
As you come to, you realize your jaw is so broken that you can't speak. You peer through bars as you see two officers sitting at a table, in the middle of some argument.
"I'm telling you, man. Friday is the easiest day to work of the entire calendar year," the older officer says.
"Whatever you say, boss," the younger one responds. "I'd rather just be at home with the missis, having myself a nice dinner."
"Yeah, well, that's because you're not thinking about the big picture. There is overtime involved. Sometimes, heck, they pay triple time for Friday. Triple time! You can buy whatever meat girl you want. Maybe even a live one."
"That's a good point, boss..." the younger one says as he turns his gaze to you. "Speaking of meat girls, what are we going to do with this one?"
"Oh, well... about her..." the older one says as he turns to look at you as well. "Usually, a falsifier of documents like this, well, she becomes the property of the officer who's made the claim. But just as we went to put her in the system under her real name, well, she was flagged due to her previous misbehavior in this here country. It turns out a deal has already been arranged for her custody."
"You used a lot of big words there, boss."
"What I'm saying is, someone has prepaid a heavy price on this one to claim her the minute she ever stepped foot back in the country."
"Who in the heck would do that, boss?"
"A very powerful woman indeed. She's the head of—"
The prison door unlocks from the lobby, and the sound of heels clicking echoes as a woman's silhouette enters the room. You gaze through blurry vision as the silhouette becomes clearer and the face leans between the bars.
"Well, HELLO, darling. I've just been waiting for this moment for so long."
*********
[[Checkpoint - Monday Afternoon, Customs ->Airplane, Customs Death]]“Pick my fucking bones clean, Char. Eat every last bit of me. Then boil my bones for soup, please. I want to be utterly, totally consumed. That is my last and final request.”
Charlene’s smile does not leave her face as she slides you onto a rolling tray and opens the door, the heat immediately building sweat on your skin.
“I promise that one day, soon, Scarlett, I will make a PERFECT soup out of those thick bones of yours. But first…”
You feel her fingers slide inside you and your body shakes so violently that your pan nearly rocks off your cart. The only thing that quakes deeper is the pulsating orgasm that thumps through your cunt, a heartbeat of ecstasy that will stop moments after your slid in the oven.
“…first I just wanted to see the moment I FINALLY broke you. And, darling…”
She stares into your broken, submitted eyes.
“…you were worth the wait.”
She slides you in the oven and kicks the door closed, laughing as she walks over to her kitchen island and begins to write each and every recipe she will make from you.
GAME OVER, YOU WERE EATEN.
*CLANG CLANG CLANG*
Charlene bangs on the side of the same metal pot that alerted you to her presence in your dream. But, this is no dream, and you are long, long gone.
"Do you know one of the first things that had me fall in love with cooking, darling?" Charlene says as she lifts the pot lid, steam rushing out as the broth inside nearly boils over.
"What's that, Mistress?" Jenna says, taking a break from kneeling between Charlene's, Charlene's juices running down her face.
"When I was a little girl, I read the book Stone Soup."
Charlene stirs the boiling hot pot, the remains of your spine, ribs, and pelvis, along with your femurs, stuffed inside, being cooked down.
"The story is basically about somebody who had no food going around with a pot, and a stone, convincing people that if they added small amounts of their own food..."
Charlene reaches over to her cutting board and scoops in handfuls of carrots, onions, peas, and celery into the pot.
"...that they were able to make such a delicious soup. Which, is exactly what you've become, haven't you Scarlett?" Charlene says as she uses tongs to pull out your carcass, the remaining meat falling off the bone, before slowing letting your remains dip back into the boiling soup.
"…isn't that story about the power of community?" Jenna says with a dazed look before Charlene shoves her face back into her snatch.
"It IS. It's about the power of what ONE person can accomplish if she's able to blend all of the flavors around here together. Speaking of..."
Charlene adds salt, peppercorns, and a bay leaf and places the lid back on the pot.
"...I'm VERY much looking forward to seeing what you accomplish, my delectable little Scarlett Stone Soup."
Charlene taunts as her signature grin flashes on her face.
"Isn't this just the perfect end to your story, darling?"
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Saturday AM, Charlene's Kitchen ->HomeC Clean]]You slide off your stolen loafer and heave it at the dangling light. It lands right on target, knocking it loose and sending it crashing down in his path.
But, it lands just behind him. As you step back with only one shoe on to gather your fighting position, you slip, and he's able to jump on top of you, his knife lunging just as you hit the ground. You feel the steel penetrate your body as the blade tears us through your heart, and you look in horror to see it jammed in your chest.
He grabs you by the hair and makes sure you're staring into his souless eyes as you black out into death.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
The same disheveled man from earlier opens a lid, and steam rises from a piping-hot pot of stew. He dips his ladle into the pot and stirs as he begins to laugh to himself—a light chuckle that is more an expression of conquest than it is of a joke.
He then raises the ladle to eye level, allowing the stewed meat, vegetables, and gravy to meet his gaze.
“I won’t let you turn me into stew,” he says in a mocking, feminine-sounding voice that sounds, well, exactly like you. “Well, look at you now.”
He allows the meat to slowly dip back into the pot and stirs.
“What was that thing you said I needed before? Hmmmm?”
He brings some of the broth to his lips and has a taste.
“Oh, I don’t remember. Was it help? But I can tell you what you need.”
He reaches over to his spice rack.
“You need salt.”
He adds a pinch of salt and gives the pot a stir before closing the lid one more time, laughing as he walks away.
*******************
[[Checkpoint: Wed, 4:59pm ->Subj 1]]You decide to try going left, trying to move swiftly while crouching down, appreciative that the worn brown color of your rags matches the sandy color of the dirt. You remain alert to see if you've been spotted, but also recognize that the area you've entered is so barren, so void of anywhere to hide, that if you are pursued, there's nowhere to escape.
You just begin to break a sweat as you reach a second fork in the road. You must've guessed correctly.
"One down, three to go." You say happily.
[[Take the second path going left.->Third Coin Flip]]
[[Take the second path going right.->Caught B]]
[if hasFarmMap]
[[Item Choice: You look down at the map. The clear path for the first fork is left. ->Third Coin Flip]]You turn just as you think you're going to be discovered and quickly hustle the line cook line and accidentally bump into a chef.
He grabs you by the jaw and looks you over.
I train everyone here, and I don't recognize you.
Just as you're about to react, you feel a knife cutting inside of you, right at the left of your abdomen, precise enough to not cut through your organs, but strong enough to snap bone
You feel your entire body going to shock from the pain, as you feel as hand reach into you and pull out a chunk of your rib cage.
Good. We needed one more plate of short rib, and I just found it. He hands your ribs to an assistant who takes them over to a pot to cook.
The rest of you is quickly thrown face first into a sink as you're neck is caught and bled out.
Game over. You were eating.
EpilogueThey force you to walk back inside on your shattered kneecap with Zoe's corpse being carried right next to you
The SUV that had pulled out to try and save you is gone, tire tracks on the center of the lawn as it made a quick escape. You'll never know what the other option was, you realize, as you're brought back into the kitchen and the head chef grabs you by the neck and pins you against the wall.
He just breathes on you as he looks you up and down. You'll go up loudly as you try and think of anything you can say to distract him long enough for -
You feel a cold, sharp, metal blade plunge into your abdomen, just underneath your left breast. It knocks the wind out of you and tumble forward slightly from the shock, but the hand at your neck quickly slams you back against the wall. You feel the blade cutting as your body bounces up and down as you hear a loud crack.
You nearly vomit from the pain of the blade. Cracking your ribs inside of you
Blade continues to cut around the broken rib until you feel the head chef's hand reaching inside of you, tearing your flesh from your body while you dangle helplessly, blood slowly oozing out of your mouth.
The last thing you see is him rip out a portion of your rib cage and place it in a metal bowl besides you.
" Short rib."
He then gets back to work, his blade quickly cracking the ribs off your opposite side. The pain is so violent that your body shuts down in self-preservation, but there will be little preserved of you when the chef is done breaking your body down into manageable cuts of meat.
Game over. You were eaten
EpilogueYou force yourself to your feet and bend your knees to find an athletic stance. You nearly fall over as you rush out of the bushes and slide down toward Dee to try to pick her up.
She looks at you dumbfounded.
“Why would you…come back for me?”
You look up and see her husband standing at the doorway, and he grins as he cocks his shotgun. You realize that this is your only opening, and you decide to rush ahead to knock the gun out of his hands and take him down. Just as you lunge forward, your cooked muscles don't respond, and you fall right to your hands and knees. Your legs wobble as you try and stand, and as you look forward, you see the gun aimed right for your stomach.
You feel shotgun pellets tear through your body as you’re knocked 5 feet backwards and onto your back, your body shredded from the blast.
You lay helplessly as Dee's husband walks over you and aims his gun between your eyes.
“Stupid fucking pig. “Look what you made me do to my wife. And I was saving her for Dolcett Day.”
He casually reloads as you cough up blood.
“Oh well, my NEW wife will figure out something to do with the both of you.”
The last thing you see is him aiming his shotgun between your eyes as he blows your brains out the back of your skull.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
A young blonde woman stands nervously in front of a large aluminum pot in the same kitchen where you were nearly cooked alive a few hours earlier. She lifts the lid and gives the large, thick, brown stew a good stir, then raises some to her lips, giving it a taste.
"Mmmmm. Aureile, you're a genius," she says to herself.
Aureile puts on her best prom queen/beauty pageant smile as she marches the large pot out of the kitchen and places it at the center of the table. Just as you were told, there are 12 diners at this party—no, actually, eleven now, as Dee has been cooked alongside you in that pot.
"Now..." Aureile begins, taking a moment to smile at her new husband and gets his blessing to continue. "I know everyone was expecting a whole roasted meat girl this evening, but due to some VERY strange cir-cumstances..."
“Circumstances, babe. The word you’re looking for is circumstances,” Casimir—or “Case,” as Dee called him—says.
"Yes, that. Because of all that, well, we couldn't exactly do a whole roast. But luckily for everyone, I was raised right, and my mom taught me a thing or two about what to do with runaways..."
Aureile opens the lid and reveals her signature dish.
"I present to y'all one of my favorites—Two Girl Gumbo! I bet you can't even TELL which of the two women you're savoring in each bite—I've made it so their flavors blend perfectly. Bon appétit, y'all!"
She reaches her hand out and takes Casimir's bowl, serving him first with a helping of your and Dee's cooked flesh. One after another, guests are served, and Aurelie is complimented for finding a way to salvage the meat from two ruined women, full of buckshot, and turn them into a memorable meal.
Just as the party begins to wind down, one of the diners, who had excused himself "to get to work," returns and presents something under a cloth to Casimir. He peeks, smiles, and they shake hands.
"Yes, this is perfect. Thank you. Please make sure you take some of Dee home with you when you go."
He walks over to the den wall, next to his first wife, and hangs Dee's taxidermied head, attached to her Le Preserve, with her name on a gold plate.
"I don't know what got into you, but you made good gumbo. You're a meal to be remembered."
Your head is not mounted on the wall, as it was shattered into pieces on the lawn. It was thrown out in the trash along with Dee’s journal and is quickly compacted into nothingness.
********
[[CHECKPOINT: Dee's House ->Home Cooked 1]]Puma sharpens her hunting knife loudly as she looks over the large wooden table that she centered in this area. Zoe weeps in the background, trying to process and understand not only what she's seen, but what will soon likely happen to her. Puma's expression is one of satisfaction, of someone eager to move on to the next step after solidifying what she's been waiting for for so long.
Your carcass, still intact, is spread out on the table, but looks very different. Puma has taken the time to skin you, and is is working on a marinade to slather over your explosed muscles and tendons as she plans to roast you whole over open flame. Your skin is tanning over wooden branches, being dried out into leather, with Puma coming over to rub a hand over it to verify her approval.
Once she secures you to a makeshift spit, with her strength alone, she's able to carry you and set you over a cozy campfire. Her eyes light up as she watches the flames dance over your skinned body. Her lips moisten at the finalization of her ultimate dream- to prove that five years ago was a fluke and your destiny was always to cook in her forest. You were a proper hunt, a fully realized challenge, and now, a conquered dinner.
"You put up a heck of a fight, Scarlett Sky. You honor my training with your effort and you've shown that you were worth every minute of wait, until you were ready."
"Why spend all this time getting her ready just to kill her?" Zoe says as she watches on, still tied to a tree.
"Because the forest has chosen me. The forest had ALWAYS chosen me, but I just didn't hear it's message. But now, I have proved it without any doubt that THIS was her destiny, all along."
As Puma watches your body turn over the flame, the forest does not howl with approval. The wind remains silent. But, Puma is no longer listening to the song of her people. She is lost in her own dream, a fantasy she has made reality, despite how far it has driven her from the values she holds so dear.
************You completely lose yourself as your rub your cunt against the thick, now fogged over plastic and feel your mind turn into mush, your eyes rolling back in your head as you moan so loudly that it echoes through the grocery store.
You don't care anymore, you're going to have release, and you're not going to feel at all guilty about it. You keep frotting against the plastic and squeezing your pc muscles against the carrot that's impaled you, rubbing your thighs together to create just enough friction to cum and have a nice nap.
You don't even notice that all the noise you've created has attracted the attention of a middle aged woman in a tight sweater. She tries to look you in the eyes, but you aren't even paying attention as you squirm in your package, still moaning loudly, getting closer and closer to orgasm.
"This one is a little thick, but gosh, is she lively," she says to the butcher.
"She'd make a fine full roast."
"Yes, but... with her muscle content..."
One of your eyes closes as the other twitches as you're just almost there as you try and force a hand to reach your aching cunt.
"...she'd do so much better with a few hours in my crock pot," she says, nodding to herself before looking up at the butcher.
"Can I have this one sliced for free?"
"Of course, ma'am. How would you like her portioned?"
"Hmmmm..."
You continue to grind your body against the plastic as an orgasm rushes through. You scream out so loud that traffic in the grocery store literally stops around you.
"Let's carve that thick thigh of hers into a nice rib roast that I'll have for tonight. The rest can be wrapped for the freezer and delivered later. Thank you; there's an extra tip in it for you if you're quick about it."
You don't even hear your death sentence as your breathing so heavily from release, allowing yourself to drift off to sleep as you feel like you're literally being carried away. You don't realize you're laid on a butcher's slab until knife goes directly into your hip socket, severing each leg one by one before your head is removed just as quickly to bleed you out.
A thick cut of a half dozen of your ribs is still quite warm when it is handed to the woman to have for her dinner. She places your in her cart and continues her weekly grocery shop. It's business as usual in Dolcett.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
The same woman from several hours before walks over in her kitchen and opens her oven door, pulling out the rack where her prime rib dinner has just an hour to reach temperature. She takes a spoon and ladles on some of your own juices on top, and pressing on your sear to make sure the seasonings she added made a proper crust.
She then closes the door to continue working on the sides that will be served to her family of four.
*******
[[CHECKPOINT: Grocery Store ->Grocery]]“It’s just missing…”
You feel yourself panting with short, sudden, eager breaths as your eyes wander back toward the cauldron, the flames rising around the cast-iron pot as the broth comes to a simmer. You feel—and can even visualize—that the soup is missing one thing: meat, perhaps even your meat, to become a complete dish. You feel an overwhelming desire to be cooked just like that, and you see yourself as a pot of simmering soup, cooking over an open wood fire as you lose any remaining control of your body.
You watch as she raises the blade and slices around you at a speed that shouldn't be humanly possible. As you look down, you see your clothes fall off, and then, your body begin to slide off your bones into perfect, bite size cubes.
"What...?" is the last thing you ever say.
You don't understand it - no blood, no bones, but just right size portions of your flesh that dance in the air before floating over and landing in the soup, the broth and flame eager to receive your meat and add your flavor to the cook. You don't understand it...but you feel a rush of acceptance taking hold of you. You're going to be a giant pot of soup for some type of witches feast.
Your head is all that remains as she grabs you by the hair and turns your vision to watch as she gestures with her hand. The flame raises, your meat cooking in front of your eyes. You accept that this fate has happened, that this is reality, and as soon as you do, your existance fades away and your face freezes in death.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
The witchy woman ladles a bowl of Scarlett Soup out of the pot, carries it back to the one chair in the home, and sits down to eat. There are 27 other bowls stacked next to her, all dirty with the remnants of broth she’s already eaten, and she greedily takes her time enjoying your flesh. Her belly protrudes comically over her waist, the skin stretched tight.
But the skin doesn’t seem so tight on her face anymore. She appears healthy, fresh...
...youthful.
She finishes her bowl and snaps her fingers, causing another dish to appear. She goes back for her 28th, and then her 29th, serving.
She feasts on you for hours, long into the night.
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs AM, Mysterious Wood ->The Mysterious Wood]]Step by step, second by second, Puma gets closer. But, you wait, your blade standing tall and true in front of you. You've listened to the message of the forest, and you'll have to continue fighting from underneath.
When she's close enough, she tries to knock your Chanir from your hand with one powerful slash, but you bring it back in front of you, limping backwards. She jabs next, and you parry her strike. She breathes in and she slices from multiple directions, with you deflecting, dodging, parrying, and dancing along with her, just as she said as this battle began, two equals locked in a combat - only one outcome remaining.
Suddenly, she leaps, her body suspended in a second of finality, her positioning committed to one outcome.
Either she will kill you, or you will kill her.
There is no other outcome possible as she drives the icepick grip downward, thrusting her blade towards your heart.
You lunge your blade forward, trying to meet her neck before hers reaches yours.
Two blades, one outcome.
Puma falls on top of you and you both tumble into the dirt, the leaves launching off the ground and hovering around you as silence overtakes the moment.
The first breath that is heard is Zoe's.
Slow, quiet, questioning breaths. The sound of uncertainty, the battle concluded.
Puma rolls off the top of you, your Chanir implanted into her right shoulder, six inches deep.
She looks over, and see her Chanir...
...is dug deeply into your heart. Your face is already frozen, snuffed instantly from the shock of the impact.
"...the forest has spoken..." Puma says, relief in her voice, the trial over.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
"You know, you talk a lot about the Forest, the wind, and your people, but for how majestic and revered you make them sound, their beliefs don't exactly line up, if you ask me."
Puma finishes tying two pieces of wood together with twine, forming an X shape. She then ties on another piece, creating a makeshift spit that functions more like a rack, with two levels: one on top and one on the bottom.
"There is much about my people that you do not know."
"Our traditions are older than the world itself. They say that to know true strength is to test your own strength. That is why we are here today."
Puma then reaches over and lifts your back, skinned and intact, from the top of your shoulder blades to the bottom of your spine, the flesh emptied of any organs and stretched out thin, as she ties it to the wooden rack.
She carries your harnessed meat near a large stack of fire that she has built, taking time to rub coarse salt and pepper all over your flesh before bringing it to the smoky area. She places you just beside the fire, but not over it, allowing the smoke to billow up and cook your flesh.
She waits patiently, as she understands it will take until overnight for your backstrap, belly, and chest to become tender and ready to eat. The smoke slowly raises the temperature, blending with the coarse salt to make the perfect barbecue. This indirect heat gives your hard-working flesh time to break down and become deliciously tender.
"You say that your traditions say that women like Scarlett or you have to be eaten. But that just leaves one less strong woman in the world. Maybe you got your traditions wrong. Maybe somewhere along the way, the message was lost. Don't you wonder about that?"
"Maybe you're right..."
Puma says as she watches the smoke billow up and blend its flavor into your meat.
"But if so, the message that we would have to be listening to would be here. So if you want to understand my people, and potentially hear the result of your own fate, then sit quietly, Zoe, and listen to the sounds of the forest. They will speak to you all night."
"And what are you going to do?"
"I've been waiting five years for this. I'm going to watch, minute by minute, until Scarlett is ready to eat.""Yes, I have a last request. There is hope for you to start over. A new life."
You take a deep breath to try and pause and clear your mind, but the heat of the oven nearby reminds you of the intensity of the moment.
"There's an underground movement. I met them today. They help women escape situations like this. Start over. Live independently and free of this."
Your hopes are dashed as she laughs right into your face.
"Start over? Live independently? I like who I am RIGHT NOW. I just don’t want to have to die to stay me."
"I don’t think you understand what I m—"
She shoves your apple back in your mouth.
"It's very rude of you to lie to me like that. Trying to get my hopes up so I'd let you out. It's not fair. None of this is fair, really. I always wanted to be... to be..."
She looks down as you share one quiet moment of desperation, like you are looking into a mirror of one another, before she shakes her head and slides you into the oven.
"I guess it doesn't matter what either of us wanted anymore, does it?"
She slams the oven door shut, leaving you in the impossibly hot prison to roast to perfection.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Dee whimpers as she soaks in a large pot in the basement of what was formerly HER home, neck-deep in a salty brine meant to dry out her skin and make it crispier as she roasts in the oven for Friday's Dolcett Day dinner. She tries for a moment to helplessly squirm in her pot, but quickly realizes that there is no escape. In just a couple of days, she'll be roasted, eaten, mounted, and then...
...forgotten.
As a blonde silhouette approaches and stirs the pot, Dee looks up and sighs.
Aureile, her replacement, adorned in Dee's necklace, takes a moment to sip the salty mixture and makes an exaggerated "Mmmm" for effect.
"Yes, very good. You're going to make quite the roast for Friday," Aureile says, trying to choke back a wicked grin. "And don't you worry one bit. I'll make sure your husband—well, ex-husband—is WELL taken care of."
"You know he's going to do the same to you," Dee snipes back.
"Oh, is THAT what you think?" Aureile says as she gives Dee a condescending pat on the head. "I don't think so. You see, I'm smarter than YOU ever were. Casimir and I already talked about it, and he said—"
"That he's going to be keeping you forever, right?"
Aureile takes a step back as she processes how Dee knew his exact words. She then forces a giggle and shakes her head.
"Oh, you're clever, but you're NOT getting out of this. You're DINNER, and I am going to be eating you Friday. That's all there is to it."
"There's no getting out of this for you, either," Dee says, sitting back in her pot.
"Maybe. Maybe not," Aureile retorts, taking a pause to think before pulling a worn green journal out of her pocket. "By the way, is this yours?"
Dee gasps and leans forward in the pot, her hands frantic as she tries to break free and rescue it.
"I never learned to read, myself," Aureile says as she tears a page out of the book. "But this dry paper should make good kindling."
Tears stream down Dee's her face freely as she watches her identity thrown into the fire, the embers lighting it up and erasing it from history. By the time Aureile is done and goes to taunt Dee one final time, Dee's expression is vacant, broken, defeated.
Aureile simply shoves an apple in her mouth, pokes her on the nose, and walks away, leaving Dee to simmer until she's pulled out to be roasted alive Friday morning.
*****
[[CHECKPOINT: Dee's House ->Home Cooked 1]]"Please stay right at this pace. Right here. Just keep going. Please. Please..." you moan out, slamming your eyes shut, your breath caught in your chest.
You don't know why you told her that, as in moments like this, and as she continues to knead inside of you, her fingertips curling in your entire body begins to shake as you can't hold it off anymore.
"That's it, little doe. Let it all out."
You grunt from deep inside of your lungs as you scream out, the orgasm rushing rushing through your body. You hear a scraping as metal is removed from the wall and you close your eyes just as you feel a knife jabbed in your throat, and then sliced cleaning across. Your blood splatters violent all over the floor, with Ella grabbing your head to aim the fountain of your ending life towards the sink just as she kicks the faucet on.
You try and gasp out as your orgasm concludes, but the air escapes out of your open throat instead of your mouth. Your eyes begin to go still. Your body, which tightened att the moment of release, has softened, and stayed that way just as they had planned.
The only thing left is for you to be served as an authentic spaghetti dinner.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Ella eagerly stirs a large vat of homemade ragu, taking a moment to sip a bit and making an exaggerated groan as she nods at how perfectly your flesh has ground up and made a delicious batch of sauce. She eagerly lifts the lid to the pan adjacent, with your shanks just finishing baking in your sauce, just as she said. Your forearms and shins have been cut down into 4 inch portions, with a half dozen just finished baking in the oven.
Ella sets out a plate for Theron and lays a bed of freshly made, hand pressed pasta as the base. She then ladles an ample amount of thick sauce Scarlett Ragu on top, then brings some of your shanks onto the plate and uses a fork and knife to cut the shredded flesh on top. She sprinkles on some cheese and puts on a big smile as she eagerly walks the plate over to the table.
"Dinner is served, husband."
Theron takes a seat at the head of the table just as the plate of you - as a perfect spaghetti dinner - is set in front of him. The scene has played out just like you visualized when you came to it in the forest, and he licks hislips as he picks up a fork and begins to twirl his first bite. Ella waits until he slides his first bite of you into his mouth, groans, and nods with approval.
"Please enjoy, my husband. I have a little more work to do."
Ella walks back over to the large vat of sauce. One by one, she fills the waiting jars with your sauce, seals them, and then sets them in a pot to boil so they become shelf-stable. Once they are ready, she uses tongs to set them out to cool, then begins to make labels of the date—not who you were, or what your name was - just when you were canned.
She scoops a leftover taste of your ragu into her mouth and chews on it as she shelves your sauce, one jar at a time, in the pantry. You'll now serve them for dozens of meals to come.
The rest of you hangs still in the culling room, ready to be slaughtered and packed once Theron finishes his meal.
********
[[Checkpoint: Thurs 4 PM, Barndomium ->Ragu]]Seeing so many large appliances is just too much for your mind to bear. It simply shatters into a million pieces, leaving you with a vacant stare as you literally drool out of your mouth while wandering aimlessly through the kitchen.
Although you've always been an oven girl, there's something particularly mesmerizing about the spit. You wander over to it, just as another girl is carried off, and climb up, pulling your maid apron and dress over the back so that the spit is lined up with your soaking cunt.
But, being lined up simply isn't enough for you-not in this state. As the tip of the spit is sticking out just enough, you thrust yourself backwards, literally impaling yourself as the tip of the rod breaks through the outer lining of your vaginal wall.
You moan out an aching sound from inside your lungs that does not register with any pain that rushes through your body, only pleasure. You quake back and forth as you slide the spit in and out of you, blood running down your leg. Soon after, you feel a hand at the back of your neck, pressing you into the neck brace. You turn to look up at the sous chef, who eyes you curiously.
“Don't recognize this one,” he says.
“It doesn't matter,” the head chef says, looking you over as well. “They all look the same in the end.”
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
The head chef presses the button that begins the spitting process, and you moan out as the remainder of your body is strapped into the automated machine. You feel the spit moving as it immediately tears through the remainder of your vaginal wall and begins to travel through up and into your belly. Your knees knock underneath you as you feel a tremendous pressure against your stomach as the tip threatens to tear through your organs, but just when you think your body can take no more, a sudden relief washes over you as you feel an opening just at your belly button.
A wet plopping sound can mean only one thing – you’ve been cut open and your organs have slid out of you, down a chute, and into the disposal. The blade is sharp, precise, and works up to your breastbone at an exacting pace. Your eyes roll in the back of your head as shock sets in and death nears - but not as quickly as an orgasm builds within your body. It will only be a matter of who finishes first - your life or your lust.
The spit continues to travel inside of you, passing through your chest and towards your neck. Your body trembles from the blood loss as you nearly pass out, but then you're shocked back into reality as you feel the spit enter your throat. Just as you see it piercing through your mouth, the ultimate sign of the inevitability of the finality that you will absolutely be cooked and eaten, you scream out in release. Your body climaxing violently, your final sound as a human echoing through the hollow tube, never to be heard by anyone.
You’re quickly stripped, stuffed and sewn together, and you feel a sauce being splashed over your body. You're barely alive at this point, and simply twitch in response as a kitchen torch burns off all the hair on your face and scalp.
You feel yourself lifted and placed over the flame, and you feel your skin searing and cooking, becoming dry and crispy. You're no longer yourself, just a series of sensations that simply understands that you are meat - and that you will be butchered and served as barbecue for tonight's banquet.
You wouldn't have it any other way. This is the fate that you have avoided for so long, and now, as you rotate quietly on the spit, your destiny is finally complete.
**********************
[[CHECKPOINT - Thurs PM, Outside Banquet Hall->Banquet Outside]]"I'll be right back with my purse, then."
You sprint out of the store, your legs galloping like a gazelle.
"It's not ladylike to run, miss! Where in blazes are you from, acting like that?"
You don't heed his warning—it doesn't matter that it isn't polite or that Dolcett isn't used to assertive women. You're going to buy Zoe, get out of here, and go back to work. If anything, you've trained for this; your cardio condition is in peak shape as you effortlessly make it back to the hotel in ten minutes. You grab your purse, run back down the stairs, and head right out the door.
You rush back to the grocery store, your breathing finally getting heavy just as you hit the meat aisle and go to purchase Zoe. You have a sudden gasp of horror as you see the meat counter where she was once displayed is now empty, with no sight of Zoe anywhere nearby. You quickly shift your head left and right and resolve yourself not to give up. You race up and down aisles, looking in baskets, and scan the checkout area to see if she's still there.
But Zoe is nowhere to be found.
You go back to the butcher, crestfallen.
"Excuse me, the young woman who was in the meat counter—I was hoping to buy her. Is she...?"
"Oh, that cute little thing? She didn't last longer than a few minutes before a very nice woman bought her up just after you left. If anything, it's my mistake."
"For not saving her for me?"
"No... for not pricing her higher! I cost myself a pretty penny on this deal."
"Do you know which way they went?"
"Went? The only place that girl went is into an oven. I wouldn't think about it anymore. She's as done as his dinner."
He nods and goes to help the next customer. You feel your head get heavy as you crouch down, a sadness overwhelming you that you were unable to complete your quest and save an innocent woman's life.
GAME OVER. ZOE WAS EATEN.
Epilogue:
Zoe rides in the backseat of a minivan, screaming repeatedly through her apple as she tries to break through her plastic. Her buyer, a very modest soccer-mom type, simply turns the stereo louder to drown Zoe out. Zoe squirms wildly as she's rolled into a modest, lived-in 1950s ranch house and placed into a large farmhouse sink.
Zoe's eyes widen as the woman flashes a large kitchen knife overhead before cutting through the plastic and placing the pre-packaged vegetables on the counter. She then begins to run sink water directly over Zoe, washing her, and takes the apple out of her mouth temporarily to better wash her face.
"Wait, wait, WAIT!!!" Zoe screams.
The soccer mom moves the sprayer head away from Zoe for a second but doesn't turn the water off.
"What? Is it too cold or something?" the soccer mom says.
"No, the water temperature is right, actually."
"Good," the soccer mom says back, and goes back to washing Zoe.
"BUT ALL OF THIS IS SO VERY WRONG!" Zoe screams.
The soccer mom turns the water off and slaps Zoe in the mouth before grabbing her by the jaw.
"Don't you scream in my house, meat. I work hard to make it very relaxing in here."
"I'm not feeling very relaxed," Zoe quips back.
The soccer mom smiles, goes to her fridge, pulls out a large blue bowl, and places it on the counter. Zoe looks over and notices bread stuffing overflowing from the top.
"What? You're going to like stuff me? Like in my pussy? This place is so weird."
"Stuff you in your pussy? You must be a horny little thing, having volunteered yourself as a roast and all," the soccer mom responds.
"I didn't volunteer, honest. This is all just ONE BIG misunderstanding. I thought I was going to Florida. I just wanted to swim in the ocean! Get some salt water, you know?!"
Well..." the soccer mom says. " The good news is that salt is a primary ingredient in the rub I'm using. And, as for your stuffing, your pussy is not where it goes..."
The woman turns the sink back on, but aims it off to the side so there is a steady flow of water runing down the drain.
"I've just got to clear out your cavity first."
"But I've never had any cavities. I brush twice a day! I even floss, too!" Zoe exclaims.
"Oh, you innocent little thing..." the Soccer Mom says, picking up the knife, and placing her other hand on Zoe's throat, pinning her down. "You're cute and all, but I've got a family to feed. So, please try and remain still, as this IS going to hurt."
The soccer mom presses the tip of the knife at the center of Zoe's breastbone, and presses down to begin her cut. Zoe gasps, and the panic of feeling herself being sliced open freezes her body in place, as she quietly hopes that the pain will stop. It does not as the soccer mom expertly continues her slice down Zoe's supple, soft belly and all the way to her naval, splitting her open while not cutting into her organs.
The soccer mom's eyes meet Zoe's - one set of eyes certain on her work, the other in a disbelief - as the soccer mom slides her trash can with her foot closer to the sink. She then reaches in and Zoe feels a hand in her guts and watches as her bloody intestines are pulled out, sliced off, and thrown in the trash. Zoe only coughs softly as her eyes begin to blanken as she's gutted, and she softly lays her head back just as she feels the warm water filling her empty cavity and rinsing her out.
The last sensation Zoe feels is the stuffing being packed inside of her as she dies quietly in the sink, soon to be rubbed with salt and spices and roasted for the family Tuesday dinner.
*******
[[CHECKPOINT: Grocery Store ->Grocery]]"You know what? I am pretty smart, and I think I'd rather buy her after all. I'll be right back with my purse."
You sprint out of the store, your legs galloping like a gazelle.
"It's not ladylike to run, miss! Where in blazes are you from, acting like that?"
You don't heed his warning—it doesn't matter that it isn't polite or that Dolcett isn't used to assertive women. You're going to buy Zoe, get out of here, and go back to work. If anything, you've trained for this; your cardio condition is in peak shape as you effortlessly make it back to the hotel in ten minutes. You grab your purse, run back down the stairs, and head right out the door.
You rush back to the grocery store, your breathing finally getting heavy just as you hit the meat aisle and go to purchase Zoe. You have a sudden gasp of horror as you see the meat counter where she was once displayed is now empty, with no sight of Zoe anywhere nearby. You quickly shift your head left and right and resolve yourself not to give up. You race up and down aisles, looking in baskets, and scan the checkout area to see if she's still there.
But Zoe is nowhere to be found.
You go back to the butcher, crestfallen.
"Excuse me, the young woman who was in the meat counter—I was hoping to buy her. Is she...?"
"Oh, that cute little thing? She didn't last longer than a few minutes before a very nice woman bought her up just after you left. If anything, it's my mistake."
"For not saving her for me?"
"No... for not pricing her higher! I cost myself a pretty penny on this deal."
"Do you know which way they went?"
"Went? The only place that girl went is into an oven. I wouldn't think about it anymore. She's as done as his dinner."
He nods and goes to help the next customer. You feel your head get heavy as you crouch down, a sadness overwhelming you that you were unable to complete your quest and save an innocent woman's life.
GAME OVER. ZOE WAS EATEN.
Epilogue:
Zoe rides in the backseat of a minivan, screaming repeatedly through her apple as she tries to break through her plastic. Her buyer, a very modest soccer-mom type, simply turns the stereo louder to drown Zoe out. Zoe squirms wildly as she's rolled into a modest, lived-in 1950s ranch house and placed into a large farmhouse sink.
Zoe's eyes widen as the woman flashes a large kitchen knife overhead before cutting through the plastic and placing the pre-packaged vegetables on the counter. She then begins to run sink water directly over Zoe, washing her, and takes the apple out of her mouth temporarily to better wash her face.
"Wait, wait, WAIT!!!" Zoe screams.
The soccer mom moves the sprayer head away from Zoe for a second but doesn't turn the water off.
"What? Is it too cold or something?" the soccer mom says.
"No, the water temperature is right, actually."
"Good," the soccer mom says back, and goes back to washing Zoe.
"BUT ALL OF THIS IS SO VERY WRONG!" Zoe screams.
The soccer mom turns the water off and slaps Zoe in the mouth before grabbing her by the jaw.
"Don't you scream in my house, meat. I work hard to make it very relaxing in here."
"I'm not feeling very relaxed," Zoe quips back.
The soccer mom smiles, goes to her fridge, pulls out a large blue bowl, and places it on the counter. Zoe looks over and notices bread stuffing overflowing from the top.
"What? You're going to like stuff me? Like in my pussy? This place is so weird."
"Stuff you in your pussy? You must be a horny little thing, having volunteered yourself as a roast and all," the soccer mom responds.
"I didn't volunteer, honest. This is all just ONE BIG misunderstanding. I thought I was going to Florida. I just wanted to swim in the ocean! Get some salt water, you know?!"
Well..." the soccer mom says. " The good news is that salt is a primary ingredient in the rub I'm using. And, as for your stuffing, your pussy is not where it goes..."
The woman turns the sink back on, but aims it off to the side so there is a steady flow of water runing down the drain.
"I've just got to clear out your cavity first."
"But I've never had any cavities. I brush twice a day! I even floss, too!" Zoe exclaims.
"Oh, you innocent little thing..." the Soccer Mom says, picking up the knife, and placing her other hand on Zoe's throat, pinning her down. "You're cute and all, but I've got a family to feed. So, please try and remain still, as this IS going to hurt."
The soccer mom presses the tip of the knife at the center of Zoe's breastbone, and presses down to begin her cut. Zoe gasps, and the panic of feeling herself being sliced open freezes her body in place, as she quietly hopes that the pain will stop. It does not as the soccer mom expertly continues her slice down Zoe's supple, soft belly and all the way to her naval, splitting her open while not cutting into her organs.
The soccer mom's eyes meet Zoe's - one set of eyes certain on her work, the other in a disbelief - as the soccer mom slides her trash can with her foot closer to the sink. She then reaches in and Zoe feels a hand in her guts and watches as her bloody intestines are pulled out, sliced off, and thrown in the trash. Zoe only coughs softly as her eyes begin to blanken as she's gutted, and she softly lays her head back just as she feels the warm water filling her empty cavity and rinsing her out.
The last sensation Zoe feels is the stuffing being packed inside of her as she dies quietly in the sink, soon to be rubbed with salt and spices and roasted for the family Tuesday dinner.
*******
[[CHECKPOINT: Grocery Store ->Grocery]]You gulp loudly as the paperwork is slid across to you, just as you hand your fake ID to Sam. You scan the document quickly:
HUNT CONTRACT:
YOU (HENCEFORTH JANE DOE) AGREE TO A DAY-LONG HUNT IN REDWOOD FOREST. THE HUNT WILL LAST FROM THE SOUND OF THE FIRST HORN TO THE SECOND HORN. ANY DOE CAN BE BAGGED BY ANY HUNTER BETWEEN THE FIRST AND SECOND HORN.
NO HUNTER IS PERMITTED TO BAG MORE THAN ONE DOE. NO DOE IS ALLOWED TO USE ANY VIOLENCE AGAINST ANY MAN — ONLY SELF-DEFENSE IS PERMITTED. NO DOE IS ALLOWED TO LEAVE THE HUNTING GROUNDS EARLY FOR ANY REASON.
A CLAIMED DOE IS MARKED AS CAUGHT WHEN THEY ARE PROPERLY TAGGED AT THE ANKLE. NO HUNTER MAY CHANGE TAGS OR SWAP OUT THEIR DOE. ALL CLAIMS ARE FINAL.
BY SIGNING THIS DOCUMENT, YOU ACCEPT FORFEITURE OF YOUR LIFE AND BODY TO WHOMEVER BAGS YOU. HUNTERS ARE ALLOWED AND ENCOURAGED TO TAKE ANY LIBERTIES THEY SEE FIT ON CAPTURED PREY TO AMUSE AND RELIEVE THEMSELVES BEFORE PROCESSING THEIR GAME ANIMAL. ANY DOE CAPTURED ALIVE MUST BE TURNED IN TO THE HUNTMASTER ON SHIFT TO BE MARKED AS DECEASED, WITH EVIDENCE OF THEIR SLAUGHTER REQUIRED TO BE TRANSMITTED WITHIN 24 HOURS OF SIGN-OUT.
BY SIGNING THIS FORM, YOU CONSENT TO ALL OF THE ABOVE OUTCOMES AND ANY POTENTIAL DEMISE THAT MAY TAKE PLACE WITH REDWOOD HUNT CO.
Your hand trembles as you pick up the pen, and you remember your last hunt experience with Puma - how close you came to dying, how she'd broken you and that you'd accept your place on a plate, and how good her tongue and mouth lapped you to a screaming orgasm just before you thought it would all end.
But, you realize, this will be very different. The men here won't reward you for being good quarry with any pleasure for yourself, and are very much out for a story to brag out and meat for their table and freezer. And, as much as you're secretly fantasied about being held down in a forest and being pounded into submission, you've got to keep your wits about you, survive until the second horn, and save Zoe.
You sign as a bead of precum leaks out of your pussy and runs down your leg. You're losing yourself, already, just at the thought of the thrill ahead. You'll try your best, but if you get caught...
...well, you just hope you don't find out.
******
You're stripped naked and led into a "staging area" where three other women are gathered and are waiting for the hunt to begin. You've got a little time to kill and decide that some conversation about strategy might be in order.
[[There is an obese woman sulking in the corner, sobbing.->Fat]]
[[There is an athletic, very lean woman in the center of the room, stretching and warming up with squats. ->Lean]]
[[There is an average-looking woman staring out the window at the view of the hunting grounds just behind this lodge. ->Indifferent]]
[[Decide you are ready for the hunt to begin. ->Begin Hunt]]"I don't know about anyone else here, but I like my steak Blue."
Your marched arm and arm towards a rather traditional looking propane grill, but it's very long. Long enough to be... Human sized. He watches the burners are lit and the lid is closed as the temperature turns up.
Your captor goes around the room taking orders. He notes that anyone that orders rare or even less than rare, blue rare, will receive a special show. You don't like the sound of that.
Just as the grill is turned up to the maximum heat you're walked over and a spit is tied around your body, strapped in to this harness so that you cannot move.
* Now, blue rare is a true carnal delight. It allows the full experience of the taste of a living flesh, as it is harvested even before the moment of death..."
You try to struggle fruitlessly against your binds. You feel yourself lifted up and positioned sideways and angled so you are perpendicular with the grill plates as the lid opens.
"... The way that one proceeds is to take the meat and sear it alive to get the temperature to the proper taste."
You don't have time to protest as your throne literally thrown unceremoniously on the hot grill. No oil. No marinade. Just thrown on the grill with the lint closed cooking you on both sides. You scream out in agony, a shriek of terror and pain that would curdle the blood of any normal human- but the people who watch your suffering simply gather closer. One woman with large tick tits licks for lips. Others watch curiously. But overall, most of them are are just waiting. Finally, they're dinner is cooking..
Just as you think you're going to pass out from the pain, the lid is lifted and you're lifted off just long enough to be flipped over and grilled on your back. You scream out again as the lid is closed again. Grilling you on both sides, a tremendous pain as you feel yourself literally being cooked by then grill plates and the flames. Death. Feeling like a sweet release from this moment.
Just before you could pass out, the lid is opened again and a fork. A large grill fork is stuck in your buttocks, you don't even feel the pain as a slice of you of your rump is carved off, seared back on the grill for 3 seconds, and then put right into your caffer's mouth
Mmm. Now that's a perfect blue rare. Who else would like a cut
You lay there helplessly as slice after slice of your body is peeled off like pecania at a a Brazilian steakhouse. Just a small sliver put on each play devoured and consumed. The last thing you see is the excitement and each diner's eye as the meat fills their palate, flesh of yours. It's was on your body just a few seconds before, and then, quietly digesting in their stomachs. Their eyes wide in as they experience the pleasure of your flush as well as the eagerness of their next bite. The last thing you feel is a fork stabbing you between your lats, it's piercing blade, pressing right into your heart and through your chest as it pins you down to the grill plates. The last thing you hear is your captor mentioning that the next cuts will be cooked rare, and you see a line for him as you pass out and into nothingness.You take your time moving through the alley that leads to the hotel, ducking behind boxes, dumpsters, and gutters as needed to ensure you aren't seen. Just as you reach for the door, you see it pushed open. You look up to find a very tall, very wide man standing over you, having noticed you standing outside.
You'd taken just a few seconds too long.
"What a cute surprise."
You land an uppercut to his throat, but as you rush toward the hotel, he's able to grab you and wrestle you to the ground, pinning you on your stomach. You struggle to get back on your feet as he holds his large hand around the sides of your neck, squeezing so hard that your ears loudly ring as blood flow to your brain is restricted. You feel your mind fading, but you keep struggling until dark circles rush across your vision and you black out entirely.
You snap back into awareness just a moment later, but it's far too late to do anything about your capture. Your wrists are bound, your ankles are bound, and you're being carried back into the parking garage. You squirm, but it's all in vain as you're dumped into the bed of his truck and driven down the road.
You decide to just wait, pondering your fate as you've once again been subjugated and are likely to be sold or kept as property. One thing is for sure: you've lost your rights again, and it will be extremely unlikely that you'll survive whatever happens to you next.
As you feel the truck pull into the man’s home, you resolve not to give up. He won't break you, no matter what. You'll fight until the last essence of who you are.
As the bed of the truck opens, the man drags you over to him and pulls you close, examining you.
“Not every day I get a redhead. Hey girlie - are you really as feisty as I've read about?"
"Fuck you." you say bitterly.
He laughs loudly, taking a moment to collect himself.
"That seals it. I'm definitely keeping you.”
He reaches around you and rustles through his truck, searching for something.
"Let me tell you a little bit about what I have in store for you…You are going to learn the power of denial. Do you know what denial is, girlie?"
You bite your lip, as you've spent the last five years denying yourself of your craving to be meat.
"I don't." you lie.
"Your smell betrays you, girlie. But it's okay - I'm going to use your desire to turn you into the best version of yourself."
He stands back in front of you, finding what he was searching for - a dildo. He wipes a dry sheen that was caked all over it on his jeans and forces it inside of you.
As it vibrates, you feel your eyes roll in your head a little bit.
"That's better. Get used to how that feels. Because, from now on, you’ll only cum when I say. And over time, you'll cum less and less, until I won't let you cum unless it's a VERY special occasion - just a few times a year, IF that…”
You moan out quietly as the dildo edges you, but doesn’t bring you to orgasm.
“You'll learn to beg, girlie. You’ll do whatever the fuck I say to get those orgasms, and through that…”
As he marches you into his home, the vibration between your legs is just hot enough to melt your brain. But without release, you'll just be a cum drunk drone until you finally got a chance to climax. But, if you never get to have a proper finish…
As you are brought inside, the click of the tumbler locking is extremely poignant.
“…through denial, girlie, I’m going to train you into the perfect little Stepford slave.”
GAME OVER. YOU WERE ENSLAVED.
Epilogue:
Six months later, what's left of you stands obediently a stove, stirring a scratch made pot of soup. You're wearing a very traditional bright pink housedress with a white frilly apron tied over the front. The look in your eyes is vacant, absent of meaning or purpose, as you blink robotically as you give the soup a taste, nodding in approval.
You don't remember what brought you here, who you used to be, or even your name. All you know is the first course of this meal is perfect. And if you can REALLY nail it this time...
Your legs squeeze together, the same dildo as when you first met your owner edging you on the inside, sealed under a chastity belt.
…if you can make the perfect meal, he might just let you cum.
You feel a vibration at your wrist and your heels click as you walk towards the door, grabbing a cocktail you just finished mixing off the countertop. On cue, you drop to your knees and hold the drink out on a tray just as your Head of Household walks through the door. You bow your head your voice monotone, lifeless, robotic – exactly as he prefers - as you speak.
"Welcome home, Master. Dinner is ready."
He places one hand on your head as he takes the cocktail. You quietly begin to untie his shoes.
"That's a very good girl. What are we having?"
“I’ve prepared a three-course meal for your supper tonight. First, a creamy tomato bisque. Then, a mediterranean with freshly crushed pita chips. Then, girl-ribs, cooked Arabic-style, with a lamb spice blend and a side of mint jelly. For dessert, Tres leches cake."
"Perfect. I knew you'd end up perfect."
You look up and smile.
"Would you like your cock sucked before you dine?"
He takes a sip of his old fashioned as he discreetly nods, starring down at you. You use your teeth to unzip his pants, allowing his cock to flop out and slap you on the face. You effortlessly slide it into the back of your throat, and he grabs the back of your head, using your mouth like a sex toy.
As he begins to fuck your throat, you lose your center of gravity for a moment, sliding back just enough that the plug stretching your ass jams further inside, sending a wave of pleasure through you. With only one hole permanently caged, you might have been able to stay yourself. But he’s conquered both, and the constant penetration has left you in a permanent state of mindlessness.
You gag on his cock for just a second, and as you pull his cock out to cough, he taps you on the head.
“Almost perfect, at least.” He says, putting his cock back in his pants. “No orgasm tonight, girlie, but there’s always tomorrow.”
“I understand, Master.” You say, the disappointment in your voice a drug to him.
He walks over to the head of the table and you obediently serve his first course, standing nearby with your head bowed so that you are available to meet any need he has throughout the needs.
Your needs will have to wait. They’ve waited for weeks, months, and could wait years.
But you yearn – and that yearning keeps you permanently in your place as his denied, broken trophy wife, with no other desire on this Earth but one more cum.
[[Checkpoint: Wed, 4:59pm ->Subj 1]]You decide it's best to wait it out. The glass windows cover the entire banquet hall, and it would be difficult to even step outside naked for a second without being seen. There's got to be another opportunity.
You watch the guard finish his smoke break and walk away. Afterward, he stands as car after car enters the banquet hall, and it becomes busier and busier. You're simply running out of time, and you notice that appetizers and hors d'oeuvres are being served, potentially with Zoe's cuts on them.
There's no more time to lose. You decide to sneak to the edge of the tree line and then around the building, hoping to find some type of service entrance. As you do, you notice that a service truck has just finished unloading some groceries. It pulls away, and the door is slammed shut. You rush up and pull on it, feeling a rush of excitement as you realize it's unlocked.
As you open the door, the head chef is standing right there, unloading a box.
"Oh, finally, someone with some meat on her bones. We needed someone to replenish our stock."
You try to dive past him, but you slip because you're not wearing any shoes on the wet kitchen floor and crash to the ground. He places a foot on your back and pulls some twine out of his pocket as he begins to tie you up. You try to squirm, but two, then three, hands are on you.
"You see the quads on this girl? I bet your bones have been thickened from how hard she's worked out. She's just what we need. Our stock has been running pretty low."
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
You sweat profusely as you linger in an industrial-sized stockpot full of onions, half-cut carrots, herbs, and leftover bones that can only be from meat girls who have fallen before you. The stock simmers as you add your flavor to the broth that will be the base for the gravy they pour over mashed potatoes, the au jus they serve with roast grilled meat, and the thickening they use for their soups.
You're tied so tightly that you have nowhere to escape. You just sit there and moan quietly, feeling the broth bubble around you and cook your flesh, every drop of sweat leaving your body and becoming part of just another set of meals that'll be served to the rich men and women who dine at this banquet.
Just minutes after you were placed in the broth, you see Zoe dragged into a staging area, and watch helplessly as she is spitted alive. She now slowly turns over open flame, still twitching as she had the misfortune of experiencing what it's like to both be skewered and then cooked alive.
Your body begins to doze off, your head dipping down into the bubbling broth. You're going to be reduced into girl-meat stock, simmered in this thick bubbling liquid until you’re just the gravy on the mashed potatoes that'll be served with Zoe's prime rib.
Your final existence together is to be served as main course and side, complementing each other with the depth of your combined flavors.
*************
[[CHECKPOINT - Thurs PM, Outside Banquet Hall->Banquet Outside]]sectionStart: trail.length
--
"How did this happen?"
You, Scarlett Sky, sit behind your desk at SkyCorp, reading the documentation over and over. As you shake your head, your red hair stops obscuring the wrinkles around your eyes and falls over your much broader, more muscular shoulders than you had when you first took over the company.
"I'm sorry, Scarlett. Something must've gotten mixed up. It's just some type of accident..." Jenna, your mousey, glasses-wearing, suited second-in-command, says in response.
"My people don't believe in coincidences," Puma Catori says, just as she emerges from her shadowy post in the dark corner of your office, her tan skin glistening over her muscular frame as she steps into the sunlight streaming through the nearby window.
Puma traces a hand through strands of now graying hair as she adjusts the knives on her hips.
"At least, not ones like this. Everything is a calling of faith, a path down the lifeline."
"I'm with you, Puma." you say back. "It's just too much of a coincidence, too. It's the SAME week as it was five years ago. The same week I last went..."
You trail off as you force your eyes closed, trying to repress the flood of emotions, memories, and stress that rush through your mind.
"My people believe that fate calls to us at times when change is needed..." Puma says, just as a gust of wind sweeps through the office, lifting the paperwork in the air for a moment, only for you to catch in your hand and slam it back on the desk.
"The forest is speaking to us, Scarlett, calling for us to return." Puma continues. "We may not know what force is at work here, but it doesn't change what comes next. Destiny has played a hand."
"Whatever the reason is, I can't have this on my conscience, too." you say, as a slight tremble bobs in your throat. "...I have to go back to Dolcett."
"Not you, Scarlett. I'll go. It's my mistake." Jenna says.
"No, Jenna, I need you here. You're the insurance policy of this entire operation - if something happens to me, then you're the only person left to keep Charlene from turning this business back into a black market for selling unwilling women to Dolcett to be eaten by the highest bidder."
"But..." Jenna says.
"...but nothing. you say. "I need you here. You wouldn't last a day in Dolcett, not to mention a week. I've done it. And..."
"And you barely made it back." Puma says, walking close enough to penetrate your personal bubble, breathing in your scent. "If I hadn't played with you for just a few extra minutes..."
"I would've been your dinner, I know. You haven't let me forget." you say, slumping back at your desk. "The memory of how close we are, we all are, between existence and not, being doing something that matters and doing nothing at all, has weighed on me ever since. I..."
You pause for a moment.
“...I’ve dedicated the last half decade of my life to walking the very fine line of that premise.”
A silence overtakes the room.
"For five years, I've been the gateway for WILLING women who have craved nothing else but to go to Dolcett to fulfill their biggest fantasy. They CHOOSE to go, and they CHOOSE to be eaten. This woman, this..."
"Zoe Sanders. 24 years old." Jenna says, picking up the file on your desk. "Says here she was planning one last girls' trip before she got married."
"Married..." You say, as your bare fingers subconsciously trace each other. "...she's my responsibility, my burden, to make sure no innocent woman is ever sent to Dolcett through SkyCorp. Get me a ticket. I'm going to bring her back tonight. It should be simple."
"Nothing in Dolcett is ever simple." Puma responds, crossing her large arms across her chest. "In case you've forgotten, you're one of the most infamous people in Dolcett. Your 'pro-choice' monopoly on the woman import business has made you quite the target. To say their would be a price on your head would be an understatement - there will be people all over the country crawling to be the one who has eaten you."
"And then, everything we've worked for would be lost." Jenna says quietly.
"Not lost, Jenna. You're next up to take over the business if anything happens to me. We have all of that settled and in writing."
You pause for a second to process everything.
"It's just so strange..." you continue. "We have this deal to protect women against Charlene, and she's been missing now, for what, weeks?"
Jenna just shakes her head, tears forming in her eyes as her thighs rub against each other.
"Just promise you'll come back..." Jenna whimpers, wiping the tears from her eyes, while Puma shoots her a curious look.
"I..." you say, before pausing to consider what proclamations you're willing, or wanting, to make. "I promise to make sure Zoe makes it back. She's the priority; she's an innocent. As for me..."
You scan the room and meet eyes with Puma.
"...we will just have to have see what the forest has to say."
Puma nods and steps her left foot back and raises her fists.
"Since you are so determined…” Puma says. “Let us have one last refresher of your training to ensure you are best equipped to take care of yourself and truly prepared for what comes next.”
[[Accept this mission. Practice your survival skills with Puma. ->Tutorial Literal]]
[[Decide this isn't for you after all. It's just one innocent woman. How bad could it be? ->Think Again]]You approach and watch as he steps back, the weight appearing to fall onto his right foot. But you see that his center of gravity hasn't shifted, and his backpedaling is a setup to lure you in. So you wait, circling and watching as frustration grows on his face.
"What are you waiting for? Delaying the inevitable?!"
"Getting bored yet? I thought you were going to KILL me, Leikr."
"Ask, and you SHALL receive!"
Just as he shifts his weight forward, this time onto his toes, you see that he is off balance as he lunges to grab you - planning to use his upper-body strength to crush you. You slide your body underneath him grab his arm, and toss him violently over your back with a judo throw. He lands on the pavement below with a crash. As he turns to face you, you drive a knee directly into his bleeding nose, sending him crashing onto his back.
He raises both hands as he slides on his back across the ground.
"You're a real bitch, you know that?" he says, spitting blood out of his mouth. "I can't fucking WAIT to kill so you I can tell everyone how unsufferable you were. I'm going to turn that miserable knee of yours into a paperweight."
He has yet to get off of the ground. You decide it's time to finish this.
[[He's a piece of shit. Rid the world of him by snapping his neck before he has a chance to stand up. ->Kneecap]]
[[He's a terrible person, but two wrongs don't make a right, even here. Take advantage, but choke him unconscious. ->Fingered and Fucked]]You rush him again and see him take a step back - his weight falling in his heels.
"It doesn't matter who you think you are, you're no better than me, or any other woman."
You feign another strike at his nose, but then go low to grab him by the legs and take him to the ground. Just as you scoop up his thighs and squat to pick him up, he gets one arm around your neck and wraps you in a headlock.
"That's where you misunderstand me, Scarlett..."
You feel your ears ringing as he tightens the pressure around your neck and you can hear the vertibrate in your neck popping and cracking.
"I do think we are equals. There's a balance to life. I eat dinner, and you ARE dinner. That's the equality of the way things are."
You try and push him off, but on upper body strength alone, he's much stronger than you. You are able to land a few punches to his thighs before the pressure becomes unbearable, and just as you feel yourself go limp, half way between being choked out and being dead, you feel yourself falling.
Just as you're about to land face first on the floor, he catches your head by the hair.
You black back in just long enough to see him staring into your eyes.
"I want you to have full knowledge that I'd beaten you and what your fate was going to be in your final seconds." he says through bloody teeth.
He grips your head from the top and underneath your chin and snaps your neck, your body falling defeated to the ground.
"I've got to be more careful. Wouldn't want to ruin my trophy."
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Leikr puts his bare feet up on a table as a cigar is passed to him by a young woman who, for a change, appears to admire him rather than be afraid of him. She strikes a match and tries to stare into his eyes, her red lipstick reflecting back at him as he stokes the cigar and builds up smoke, holding it in his mouth. A lust for him aches out of her pores, hoping to be able to say she slept with Dolcett’s most dangerous man.
Her hopes of capturing any of his attention are dashed as he casually waves her away with a flick of his wrist. He digs his feet further into the table as he looks around at the assembled men he has collected in his den.
"And then, she thought she could land even a single blow on me."
They all laugh.
"But I was better. I took her down and snapped her neck with a simple headlock. She was easy—just like all women are easy prey when a real man has decided to claim them."
"There's one thing that I don't understand. How did you break your nose if she never landed a blow?"
Leikr simply stares into the man's eyes as he puffs on his cigar, the smoke building as the only response he gives. The man begins to nervously adjust his tie and clears his throat before speaking again.
"Well, that's not important. The important thing is she made such a fine trophy. I have to say, I'm a little jealous."
"As you should be. But..."
Leikr crosses one ankle over the other and slides his hands behind his head.
"...that's why I am who I am, and you're fortunate to be able to share a room with me."
The room quietly takes a moment to admire Leikr’s latest trophy—your body, now stuffed and transformed into a cigar-room table. Your legacy has been permanently reduced to a piece of furniture, fixed on your hands and knees. Cocktails rest on your back as men enjoy cigars and share war stories, hoping to gain Leikr’s favor. Your lifeless face stares toward one end of the room, where the fireplace roars just ahead.
In a small cast-iron pot hanging over the flames, some of you slowly reduces into a goulash. You’ll make a hearty meal for the men in this room, and just another story that will add to the myth of Leikr’s greatness.
******************
[[Checkpoint: Wednesday AM ->First Duel Clean]]You move cautiously, blending in as much as you can as you're finally back on the streets of the city where your hotel is. You notice that the sun has dipped into the late afternoon, the journey on foot having taken most of the day.
You notice that the city is not bustling with activity as it usually is. If anything, women are rushing off the streets, while just a few men are standing around as if they are waiting for something. One married couple, holding hands, is walking in the direction of the market, points at you curiously.
You look up at the position of the sun again, and then at the clock tower at the center of town.
It's 4:59 p.m.
You feel something in your gut turn as you try to remember what could possibly happen on Wednesday nights.
You finally see the hotel door, and you sigh with relief as you rush toward it. You see Kyle smoking a cigarette, smiling as he waves you over. You wave back, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve, as you feel so much closer to finding Zoe and—
A siren pierces your ears and stops you dead in your tracks as it echoes through the skyscrapers that surround the busy City Center. You remember that something significant happens on Wednesday nights from your first trip to Dolcett, but you rack your brain trying to remember exactly what it was—and, most importantly, what you're supposed to do or not do in this situation.
[[The hotel door is in sight. Get there as discreetly as possible, get to your room, and and use your hotel phone to call Zoe's room. ->Kyle Ham 3]]
[[There is a service garage next to you. Rush out of sight and plan your next move. ->Subjegation 2]]
[if hasDeeNeck]
[[Item Choice: Put on Dee's Necklace. You will be seen as a married woman and no harm can come to you. Walk directly into the hotel and find Zoe. ->Hotel Invitation to Dine B]]You immediately hide out of sight, darting into the service garage. The siren wails again, and you realize that you just can't wait here—you remember that the siren has a specific purpose. It signals that tonight is Subjugation Night, and just like five years ago, if you're found on the street, any man has the legal right to grab you and do whatever he wants with you. The only woman who would be safe is one who is married and displaying a heart-shaped necklace collar, and you are anything but.
You resolve to get back inside your hotel as quickly as possible.
You step lightly through the parking garage and scan the area. The hotel is only three blocks from where you currently stand. You can see a side door with no one around it—perfect for a discreet entrance.
You turn to run through the garage and slip out the back. Just as you do, you hear the sound of a footstep splashing in a puddle. You turn and raise your guard just as you see a disheveled man walking toward you. He has rips in his jeans, paint stains on his shirt, and uneven, bristly stubble.
"You want to know how I like to cook a woman?"
You sigh.
"It seems like everyone around here feels like they've got the perfect idea."
He laughs as he draws a pocket knife from his dirty waistband, clicking it in position.
"Everyone wastes all this time trying to find ways to prepare a meat girl based on the cut they're using. This recipe for the thigh, this one for the breast, this one for the rump. But, if you ask me, it all tastes the same at the end of the day."
You scan the empty parking lot for ways out of this. As he approaches, there's a puddle of water he will walk through. There's also a dangling light that appears loose.
"Let ME tell you the fate that will soon befall you." He continues. You are going to be stew. I'm going to chop you up into bite-sized pieces, and I'm going to cook you all at once. I'm going to let you simmer for days, and have all that delicious muscle break down into fork tender, perfectly blended with vegetables stew. I'm going to have you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner until you're all gone."
"...I won't let you turn me into stew." you mutter defiantly.
"Oh, I've heard that before. I wonder if you'll be talking so loudly when you're just leftovers. Can't we agree that stew always tastes better the next day, after a night in the fridge? I bet a night soaking in your own reduced fat will work wonders."
"You need to seek help."
“Mmmm. Trust me. I’m about to get it—from your collagen, bone, and bristle. Come along; stew takes a long time to make right, and I plan on dining on you this night.”
He sprints at you, wailing out a battle cry that echoes through the garage.
[[Ready yourself to fight him here. He's got a knife, but you're not about to end up as a pot of stew.->Subjegation 3]]
[[Take off your shoe and throw it at the dangling light, knocking it loose and onto his head, rendering him unconscious.->Scarlett Stew]]You decide to stand your ground, not wanting to find yourself on uneven footing or slipping out of place at a key moment. As he sprints forward, you prepare to time your counterattack. Just as you anticipate his blade will—
As he steps into the puddle, his foot slips, and he tumbles backward, cracking his head on the cement.
You walk over and look at him as he lies there, knocked clean out. You kick the knife away to be sure, then shake your head and laugh at the entire experience.
The reprieve is brief as you steel yourself to proceed. You continue through the back of the parking garage toward an exit that offers two paths to the hotel's side door.
One is through an alley where there are several dumpsters you could hide behind and make a stealthier approach. The other is around the side of the building, where you could sprint at full speed and get there as quickly as possible.
[[Move carefully through the alley. This will increase the time you are on the street, but lower your footprint.->Stepfordized]]
[[Rush alongside the building. You'd be out in the open, but you get to the door as soon as possible. ->Hotel Invitation to Dine]]You bend your knees to load up your quads, then launch yourself forward. You make it seem like you're trying to run past him, around him, and watch his feet, waiting for them to turn and prepare to chase.
One step to the right is all you need to see. You dig your heel into the ground and lunge at him.
"Oh, how interesting. You're going to—"
You slam an elbow directly into his solar plexus, doubling him over. You smash the back of your hand into his nose just as he tries to wrap his arms around you, knocking him back. Then you spin around and connect with a right hook that makes him stumble backward and fall to the ground.
He looks up from the ground as blood runs from his nose. He wipes it away with one hand and looks up at you, a curious expression flashing across his face before settling into anger.
"Good, good. I've heard about your training with that native woman, and it doesn't disappoint. But you won't catch me off guard again..."
He stands.
"I won't need to." you say assertively. "You should realize you're beat and back down. I've got more important things to deal with."
"What could possibly be more important than ME?"
He takes a wide, boastful stance. It's time to decide your next move.
[[Approach, but be patient. Let him make the next move and counter attack. ->Stronger and Smarter]]
[[Keep up the pressure. His weakness is he doesn't see you as a threat. ->Stuffed Table]]You decide to bend the rules of this contest and use your advantages as a warrior to try to survive. Just as you feel them getting close, you stop in your tracks, turn, and run full speed toward him. He's barely able to slow himself down as you tackle him by the waist, spearing him and knocking him backward so quickly. He lands on his head and rolls backward. As you stand up, ready to continue your conflict or run away, you notice that he's unconscious.
You lie down and see that he's still breathing; you've just knocked him out from the impact. You take a moment to scan your surroundings and note that no one else is coming—you appear to be all alone. You shuffle through his pockets to see what supplies he's brought and find a handkerchief and zip ties—perfect for what you'd like to do next.
You tie his wrists in front of him and tie the handkerchief in his mouth. You also tie his ankles together so that he can't move or scream for help. He's just starting to wake up as you're ready to walk off, and he moans through the gag. You lean down and gesture for him to shush with a smile.
Judging by the location of the sun, the hunt should nearly be over. You take your time to make your way to the lodge, taking the next hour to move carefully just to ensure you're not seen by anyone else. As you reach the entrance, you sneak a peek at what's happening in the staging area.
As the smell of barbecue fills your nose, your eyes wander to see Alex, spitted whole, slowly turning over an open flame - you swear you can see her limbs twitch as the heat cooks her marinaded flesh. You look to the right and see the woman who told you not to trust anyone - she never shared her name - hanging lifelessly by her ankles from the Doe Pole. She's been bled out and gutted, and her hunter grips her by her hair to pull her face towards an eager lodge cameraman, smiling as he poses with his kill. You see Becky's hunter standing outside the processing center, and his face light up as a cooler is brought out to him, certainly full of her flesh, just like she feared.
These are the fates of women in this world.
Just then, the horn blows, and you exhale with relief as you immediately emerge in the staging area and walk toward the lodge. You can see the other Hunters peer over at you, the man who had caught you in his rope trap especially leering. You don't pay them any mind as you walk right into the lodge and step up to the counter.
“Hi, it’s Claire. I’ve survived the haunt and would like to claim my prize.”
“Yes, the horn sounded, and you weren’t back, so we sent your paperwork over for processing at the central office. It should only be a moment. What prize are you claiming? Immunity for a year? The money?”
“I’d like to go to the banquet tonight.”
“Oh, we don’t get that very often. But all right. It is a holiday tomorrow, after all. I’m sure they’re having a rather luxurious feast.”
His fax machine dials behind him.
“Just a moment. That should be your clearance coming back from the central office, and then we’ll finalize the arrangement.”
You wait, looking up at the clock, and see that it’s only 3:00 p.m. You should hopefully have plenty of time to still save Zoe. You decide that when the man comes back, you’re going to insist that you leave immediately, just to be sure.
As he comes back, he’s still staring down at your paperwork when you ask,
“I’d like to go to the lodge immediately. Do a little sightseeing—it’s not often you get a chance to—”
A knife is jammed through your hand and into the table, pinning you in place. You yelp and try to free your hand, just as he grips your throat.
“I’m afraid we have a little problem with that.”
He raises the paper to your eyes.
“This says that Claire Wood isn’t your real name. Turns out your name is Scarlett Sky—and you’ve been masquerading as an innocent woman when you’re anything but. But like I told you when you came in here, we have our ways of dealing with women who break the rules.”
Your eyes wander over to the helpless woman hanging in chains who is used as the hunter's relief toy, who makes a strange sound.
It almost sounds like she's sighing in relief.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
You don't know how many weeks have passed that you've hung in the chains in the Hunter's Lodge and used as a sex toy for the men to relieve themselves before they go out to hunt and slaughter poor women who attempt to use this opportunity as a refuge. It doesn't matter; you decided long ago. Zoe was slaughtered because you were unable to save her, and Dolcett had decided that you were now the property of the lodge, to do with as they saw fit.
Another Hunter unzips his pants and you don't even flinch as he slides his cock inside of you, him giving out a grunt as there's so much dried semen on you that he has to wipe it off on his jeans. He pumps without even bothering to look at who you were and only takes a few minutes before he shoots his load on your back, giving you a slap on the ass and then going to the staging area.
You've been fucked by so many men. Even the hunter who has you hung up by the rope took a turn with you as he went to check out, eager to get a little revenge on you after your narrow escape. You swear your asshole hasn't felt the same ever since that day.
As you hang there, defeated, a woman is brought in alive from the hunt. You notice that she's not brought in by anyone dressed for the hunt, but rather by two of the assistant hunt masters.
“We caught this one trying to sneak in a weapon. Seems like to us, she was plotting for a little revenge out there.”
“Well, luckily, we have a process for those who break the rules.”
You let out a small sigh of relief, just like the girl did before you. You're unchained, and your body, too weak to walk, is carried off to the processing center. You don't resist, as your existence has long since been declared moot. A butcher looks you over and then walks you over to a sausage-making station.
You realize that you're just going to be ground up, stuffed into your own intestinal casing, and turned into hot dogs. A part of you hopes there will be more to you than just that as a bolt gun blows through your skull.
You’re tattered body is quickly bled out and slaughtered for your meat.
*************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs AM, The Hunt Begins ->Begin Hunt]]You remember that the Baron had specifically said Zoe would be shoved in an oven and cooked alive. Just as you turn to make haste in that direction, you hear the sous chef yell.
"SPIT NUMBER 3 JUST OPENED UP!"
You watch as a fully cooked, spitted woman is carried away from a bed of hot coals and brought over to a carving table.
"She can't be Zoe...can she?" you whimper as you hastily head to the oven area.
You quickly peer inside the first oven, seeing a woman who is cooking alive. A tear runs down her face, evaporating instantly in the heat. You don't know who she is, but she's not Zoe.
You check two more ovens before you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn and see the head chef standing right over you. Your eyes meet his, fear overwhelming you, and you realize that this is probably the expression he's used to seeing on a female subordinate.
But, you're behaving in a way that is probably very irregular to him.
"Now. "The head chef says through gritted teeth. "Would you mind explaining what the FUCK you are doing?"
You try and lunge forward, but the butt of his knife is jammed into your temple before you can punch tall enough to reach his jaw. The impact is enough to concuss and crumble you to the floor, and you slip down in a daze as you are unable to get back on your feet without help.
Help, of course, is quickly offered, as you're tied up by the other maids. You can feel their hearts beating through their chests, and you think it is because they are eager to win the head chef's favor. But, in fact, it is out of fear of the fate that will soon befall your chest that their heart’s flutter with such an intense heat.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Your arms are tied tightly behind your back as you're lifted to your feet. You try and squirm in place, but your binds are too tight and you're held by the roots of your hair as the Head Chef pulls your gaze up into his.
He uses just one finger as he traces down your shoulder.
"Too lean."
His finger works down your oblique.
"Not enough fat."
And he then adds a thumb to pinch you thigh.
"Too thick."
As his one finger traces up your navel and towards your chest, he grips one of your breasts.
"…just right."
He snaps a finger and says only two words, sealing your fate.
"Table side."
You're marched out on the dining room floor, and brought to a table where appetizers have already been served. As you're presented to the very wealthy married couple that will dine on you, they do not make eye contact. The man instead takes a few seconds to grip your breast and nod in approval. A smokey scent floods your nostrils as you see a charcoal grill wheeled out just underneath you. Your arms, bound behind you, are hung up by a hook that suspends from the ceiling.
You can't believe what's about to happen to you. You grit your teeth just as-
You're forcibly pressed down, your tits searing against the grill plates as you scream out in pain. The wife simply waves her wrist, communicating that listening to your pain does not provide her any pleasure, and a ball gag is quickly slipped in your mouth.
Your suffering is merely a distraction from her culinary experience.
You dangle there, hoping that a tear will fall from your face and moisten your searing flesh. But none do. Moments later, you watch as one of the maids comes over to sever your breasts off entirely and serve one to each diner.
They never look at you as they take their first bite, nodding in approval. The woman flashes a curious grin on her second bite as she holds a fork up to your mouth, a taste of your flesh on the end. You don't really understand what to do in this moment - but out of curiosity, you take a bite.
As you chew through yourself, you realize that you taste rather good. As you're dragged back off to the kitchen, you see Zoe wheeled out, a spit run through her body and a glaze over her perfectly cooked flesh.
You've lost, but at least both of you will make good meals. That is perhaps the best outcome you could have expected trying to break her out of the home of the richest man in Dolcett.
***************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs PM, Inside the Banquet Hall ->CClean]]You remember that the Baron had specifically said Zoe would be shoved in an oven and cooked alive. Just as you turn to make haste in that direction, you hear the sous chef yell.
"SPIT NUMBER 3 JUST OPENED UP!"
You watch as a fully cooked, spitted woman is carried away from a bed of hot coals and brought over to a carving table.
"She can't be Zoe...can she?" you whimper as you hastily head to the oven area.
You quickly peer inside the first oven, seeing a woman who is cooking alive. A tear runs down her face, evaporating instantly in the heat. You don't know who she is, but she's not Zoe.
You check two more ovens before you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn and see the head chef standing right over you. Your eyes meet his, fear overwhelming you, and you realize that this is probably the expression he's used to seeing on a female subordinate.
But, you're behaving in a way that is probably very irregular to him.
"Now. "The head chef says through gritted teeth. "Would you mind explaining what the FUCK you are doing?"
You try and lunge forward, but the butt of his knife is jammed into your temple before you can punch tall enough to reach his jaw. The impact is enough to concuss and crumble you to the floor, and you slip down in a daze as you are unable to get back on your feet without help.
Help, of course, is quickly offered, as you're tied up by the other maids. You can feel their hearts beating through their chests, and you think it is because they are eager to win the head chef's favor. But, in fact, it is out of fear of the fate that will soon befall your chest that their heart’s flutter with such an intense heat.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Your arms are tied tightly behind your back as you're lifted to your feet. You try and squirm in place, but your binds are too tight and you're held by the roots of your hair as the Head Chef pulls your gaze up into his.
He uses just one finger as he traces down your shoulder.
"Too lean."
His finger works down your oblique.
"Not enough fat."
And he then adds a thumb to pinch you thigh.
"Too thick."
As his one finger traces up your navel and towards your chest, he grips one of your breasts.
"…just right."
He snaps a finger and says only two words, sealing your fate.
"Table side."
You're marched out on the dining room floor, and brought to a table where appetizers have already been served. As you're presented to the very wealthy married couple that will dine on you, they do not make eye contact. The man instead takes a few seconds to grip your breast and nod in approval. A smokey scent floods your nostrils as you see a charcoal grill wheeled out just underneath you. Your arms, bound behind you, are hung up by a hook that suspends from the ceiling.
You can't believe what's about to happen to you. You grit your teeth just as-
You're forcibly pressed down, your tits searing against the grill plates as you scream out in pain. The wife simply waves her wrist, communicating that listening to your pain does not provide her any pleasure, and a ball gag is quickly slipped in your mouth.
Your suffering is merely a distraction from her culinary experience.
You dangle there, hoping that a tear will fall from your face and moisten your searing flesh. But none do. Moments later, you watch as one of the maids comes over to sever your breasts off entirely and serve one to each diner.
They never look at you as they take their first bite, nodding in approval. The woman flashes a curious grin on her second bite as she holds a fork up to your mouth, a taste of your flesh on the end. You don't really understand what to do in this moment - but out of curiosity, you take a bite.
As you chew through yourself, you realize that you taste rather good. As you're dragged back off to the kitchen, you see Zoe wheeled out, a spit run through her body and a glaze over her perfectly cooked flesh.
You've lost, but at least both of you will make good meals. That is perhaps the best outcome you could have expected trying to break her out of the home of the richest man in Dolcett.
***************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs PM, Inside the Banquet Hall ->CClean]]Your arms are firmly bound in front of you, as well as your ankles tied, as you're unloaded from the supply truck backseat and marched in to the large red barn that serves as headquarters and slaughterhouse for Bouvier Farms. You're brought over to an older woman, who is flipping through a clipboard. She looks over in your direction, but then goes back to the clipboard, giving various orders to a farmhand until he walks away. As you're marched right to her, she looks around at the facility and pretends you aren't even there.
You notice that with her weight, the thickness of her neck, and her hairstyle, she somewhat resembles a pig, although she is very clearly a woman. You decide to keep this observation to yourself, at least, for now. There's no reason to bring any further harm on you in such a grim place.
After several minutes of you standing next to her, neither of you speaking, you see her open her mouth, still not looking at you.
"Do you understand what you are?" She says, looking your body over, making notations on her clipboard.
"I'm just passing through. I'm here one moment, and gone the next. It would best to just let me go now, to save yourself the trouble of having to explain how you lost me later." You say, confidently.
You haven't come this far to end up a farm animal.
You notice that with her weight, the thickness of her neck, and her hairstyle, she resembles a pig, ironically, but is very much due to her obeseness and you think bad on yourself for seeing her in such a light.
Do you understand what you are?" She says, looking your body over, making notations on her clipboard.
You don't answer.
"That's good. You should get used to not speaking, as very soon..."
She turns to face you, a greedily, broken smile of unstraight teeth, and traces a finger down your throat.
"...you are going to accept your purpose and give your voice to us."
"I wouldn't count on it. I have things to do today, so you'll excuse me that I won't be sticking around." You say.
"Oh, you'll be sticking around for quite a while. You'll be here for as long as I decide, and then, when you're plump enough, and you've given us enough calves, and enough..."
She reaches down your raggety shirt and squeezes at your breasts.
"Hmmm. Good. I'm looking forward to that..."
You try and pull back but are held in place.
"When we break your mind, then we will begin breaking your body, until you are just another mindless sow hanging from a hook, being packaged and delivered. Except, of course, you're with THEM, aren't you?
"What have these ever done to my beautiful Blueberry? I bet she's lost weight. Poor thing is probably scared and her meat is all ruined."
"She's living a free life. A life of happiness."
"This is peaches." Itches her behind the ear. "
Well well well what do we have here? An older woman asks, a fat plump gray-haired one that speaks like she is clearly the matriarch of this family.
"I am looking forward to seeing what you like...and what you'll taste best with."
Blows her brains out.
You don't answer
"Mistress Everett."
You don't have to waste my time telling telling me who you are. I already know you're part of that lfd group. What do you call yourselves? Oh I know what it should be late for dinner. But luckily for you, you're right on time
She says pressing her finger into your nose
Yes, I know that you are part of that group that comes here to to irritate my livestock and try to free them off into the wild. You're savages, you know that these poor things don't know how to survive on their own. You just subject them to a painful suffering and it's all for nothing
It's not for nothing, they're human beings that
You only notice a second too late as a shotgun is turned the other way and the butt is jammed under your stomach with a thrust, the assault knocking the wind out of you and doubling you over
Do you understand now? You will speak when you are spoken to and that will not be often as your little opinions do not matter here
In case you're not getting the picture, let me make it a little more clear to you
She snaps a finger and one of her assistants walks over with a gold ring. You look at it and then your eyes widened as you recognize. It is the same ring that you saw pierced through the nose of some of the livestock women you saw as you entered this area. You feel hands grab you at the shoulders as you're held down and one hand pulls you back by the roots of your hair so your neck is up and exposed. One more hand on your jaw holds you in place. As the gold ring is brought over, and as much as you try to shake your head, they're able to pierce it through your septum and label you as livestock.
Getting the picture now sweetheart? Your days of being anything over than a cow to be fattened up and slaughtered are over. It's time you forgot about anything else except following the rules and waiting for the day your harvest
Insert quote about what girl tastes good like jam
Later
You're broad into a dark room and you're again held down. The only you can't see anything as your face down ass up and you try to struggle as you turn your head and you only see a red light, you try to focus your vision and you notice the red light is in a shape of a letter as it becomes closer and closer. You suddenly realize that the red light is actually attached to a metal pole and it is...
... A branding iron.
You try to struggle to avoid what appears to be inevitable, but you're left. Butt cheek is held in place as the branding iron is seared into your rump. You don't want to give them the satisfaction, but you scream out in pain as The branding iron scars, your flesh and leaves a visible. Jay on your rump. As you gaze back, you can see in the reflection of a nearby mirror that you have been branded like the women in the stock before you. One more piece of your humanity, Independence, and hope for escape has been stripped from you.You lower your gaze and decide to wait, feeling your heart sink as you watch both of his hands grip the rope even tighter than before. Even if you are still planning to escape once you reach his home, there’s a part of you that feels like agreeing to this is a type of defeat. You’ve been so proud, so in control, and so accomplished for years, and now you’re literally being led by your neck to slaughter, with very little hope left. You feel like a prisoner—and yet, you’re less than that, as you’re merely a “doe” being led to a dinner date with his wife, with you as the main course.
You see the hunting lodge and freeze for a second as smoke billows from the chimney. He gives the rope a snap, jarring your neck, and you dig your heels out of the ground and keep walking. As you do, you feel a wetness between your legs as some of his semen drips down your inner thigh.
Captured. Bred. Soon to be slaughtered. Then, eaten.
As you enter the staging area, trying to keep your eyes down, the smell of barbeque fills your nose. Your eyes wander to see Alex, spitted whole, slowly turning over an open flame - you swear you can see her limbs twitch as the heat cooks her marinaded flesh. You look to the right and see the woman who told you not to trust anyone - she never shared her name - hanging lifelessly by her ankles from the Doe Pole. She's been bled out and gutted, and her hunter grips her by her hair to pull her face towards an eager lodge cameraman, smiling as he poses with his kill.
These are the fates of women in this world.
You don’t offer any resistance as you’re led inside to the check-in desk. Handshakes are exchanged, congratulations are lauded, and you even hear a few cat calls from hunters waiting for their run to begin. You lock eyes with the hunter's relief woman, still hanging in her binds, the expression of helplessness now shared between you.
As you stand at the counter, you feel someone pull at your hips and forcibly bend you over the counter.
“Mind if I take a turn with her, Theron? She’s as good as dead anyway."
Your eyes stay forward as you watch Sam, the hunt master, pull your paperwork from the file and place it out in front of you. He picks up a stamper and dips it in a red ink before pressing it on your hunt contract, and your eyes widen as the words “DECEASED” are now permanently pressed over your name.
“You know the rules, Theron. You have 24 hours to snuff her in any way you feel fit. Send us a confirmation photo and if we use it on our social media - we offer a 15% discount on your next hunt."
You shake your head at the thought of a photo of your death being a part of a promotion.
“Don’t worry, Ella and I already have tonight’s dinner planned out – she’s on the menu.” Theron, your hunter, says.
“Speaking of…” the voice behind you says, his frustration evident. You look behind you and see that a half dozen hunters in the lodge have lined up behind you. “Why don’t you let us share in some of your victory?”
“Like I said, the Misses and I have plans tonight. And, she prefers her doe as fresh to the kill as possible. Sorry." Theron says.
"Why don't you ungag her and see what she thinks? Let her have the last decision she's ever going to make."
[[Remind him that his wife is waiting on him and asked for you to be brought home unspoiled. It will at least only be two on one.->PM]]
[[Beg to be gangbanged. Your binds will get loosened and you’ll have a chance to escape in the chaos, versus being led home to a certain slaughter.->Gangbang]]You decide to take your chances at the table for six. The group does appear to be around the same age as Zoe, and there is no one dining by themselves.
As you walk over, you decide to circle the table discreetly at first to see if you can pick up a familiar accent or gather any clues. There is a very loud young woman with dirty-blonde hair, laughing and swirling her cocktail in her hand. There is also a young couple, a male and female, passionately kissing each other in a way that feels too intimate for a restaurant. But then you remember the type of restaurant you’re in and the place you’ve traveled to—a place where public sex and displays of all types of carnal desire are on display at all times.
To complete the table, there is a woman with long black hair, shaking in her seat, her head down, looking like she’s going to cry. Lastly, there is a petite blonde with vintage makeup and shoulder-length hair, dressed in a simple but elegant housedress, with a pearl necklace wrapped around her neck.
You stop your circle just at the empty chair. You see a half-eaten piece of bread and a few drops of wine that appear to have spilled on the table. The chair is also pushed way back, as if she got up in such a hurry that she didn’t have time to push it in.
You just hope Zoe Sanders wasn’t the one sitting in this seat.
“Gosh, this is SUCH a long time coming,” the beautiful, dirty-blonde woman says, tapping her fingernails against the table. “Don’t get me wrong—I liked eating her and all, but it was about time I REALLY ate her.”
The couple making out pauses to giggle in response.
“Good one, Lindsay,” the only male at the table says before he sticks his tongue back down his girlfriend’s throat.
“She was my best friend…” the shaking woman says, her eyes lowered to the floor.
“It was so nice of you guys to invite me to join you for dinner. I was SO lost when I came in,” the modest-looking woman in the milkmaid dress says.
You decide to take the initiative.
“Excuse me, I’m looking—”
“To bring our drinks?” Lindsay, the blonde who is clearly in charge of this group, interjects. “Did your coworker get my note about my special request?”
A waiter rushes over before you can answer and sets out five identical drinks. The one served to the demure blonde has a napkin underneath it.
“Oh, here they are. Great. Just IN time to add another entrée to our order,” Lindsay says as she raises her glass to the table.
“To our new friend’s first night on the town… and her last.”
[[Join the toast by taking the drink from the blonde housewife type. ->Time to Order]]
[[Join the toast by taking the drink from the dark-haired woman who is sobbing. ->Zoe Pot Roast]]You reach into your pocket and quickly skim Jenna's description of Zoe, realizing the six-top is definitely your best bet. The group does appear to be around the same age as Zoe, and there is no one dining alone at the restaurant.
As you walk over, you decide to circle the table discreetly at first to see if you can pick up a familiar accent or gather any clues. There is a very gorgeous blonde laughing loudly, swirling her cocktail in her hand. There is a young couple, a male and female, passionately kissing each other in a way that feels too intimate for a restaurant. But then you remember the type of restaurant you’re in and the place you’ve traveled to—a place where public sex and displays of all types of carnal desire are on display at all times.
To complete the table, there is a woman with long black hair shaking in her seat, her head down, looking like she’s going to cry. And lastly, there is a demure, vintage-looking blonde, dressed in a simple but elegant housedress, who appears to be just observing.
You stop your circle just at the empty chair. You see a half-eaten piece of bread and a few drops of wine that appear to have spilled on the table. The chair is also pushed way back, as if she got up in such a hurry that she didn’t have time to push it in.
You just hope Zoe Sanders wasn’t the one sitting in this seat.
“Gosh, this is SUCH a long time coming,” the beautiful, vindictive-looking blonde woman says, tapping her fingernails against the table. “Don’t get me wrong—I liked eating her and all, but it was about time I REALLY ate her.”
The couple making out pauses to giggle in response.
“Good one, Lindsay,” the only male at the table says before he sticks his tongue back down his girlfriend’s throat.
“She was my best friend…” the shaking woman says, her eyes lowered to the floor.
“It was so nice of you guys to invite me to join you for dinner. I was SO lost when I came in,” the modest-looking woman in the milkmaid dress says, flashing a smile that reflects off the pearls circling her neck.
You decide to take the initiative.
“Excuse me, I’m looking—”
“To bring our drinks?” Lindsay, the blonde who is clearly in charge of this group, interjects. “Did your coworker get my note about my special request?”
A waiter rushes over before you can answer and sets out five identical drinks. The one served to the curious blonde has a napkin underneath it.
“Oh, here they are. Great. Just IN time to add another entrée to our order,” Lindsay says as she raises her glass to the table.
“To our new friend’s first night on the town… and her last.”
[[Join the toast by taking the drink from the blonde housewife type. ->Time to Order]]
[[Join the toast by taking the drink from the dark-haired woman who is sobbing. ->Zoe Pot Roast]]sectionStart: trail.length
--
And then there was one
[[TestSecond]]
[[DeathA]]sectionCount: trail.length - sectionStart
--
[If sectionCount <=8]
Just as you feel yourself beginning to black out, you remember—despite what you fantasize about, what you crave, and what might even be your fate—you have one thing you absolutely must do before deciding anything else.
You have to save Zoe.
You force a deep breath and gasp air in to clear your vision, take your trembling hand and strike down forcefully on Puma's wrist, breaking her grip on your throat. You forcefully grab her other hand and pull it out of your pants, and slide your leg behind hers as you trip her to the ground.
As she falls, a knife at Puma's left hip pops right out of its sheath and flies into the air. You gasp through watery eyes as it flutters overhead. Reaching out through your blurry vision, you manage to grab it just before it tumbles to the ground.
The room hangs in silence as the precariousness of this moment lingers in the air, the only other thing present is the scent of your near orgasm that is soaked through your pants. You don't linger on it, and kneel down to offer Puma her "Chanir" - a ritualistic blade of her people - and a hand to get her back to her feet.
"Oh my goodness." Jenna says. "If her Chanir had hit the ground..."
"...it would've been to the death, for us, Scarlett." Puma growls.
"I...won't...I have to...save..." You struggle to say through a strained throat, Puma's handprint red across your neck.
"Are you sure you're up for this, Scarlett?" Puma says as she sucks your juices off her fingers. "You've practically basted yourself in just a few seconds with me."
“Yeah, Scarlett…” Jenna says, walking over to console you. “I had no idea that you even fantasized about being—”
“I don't,” you say, trying to force this lie into the truth. “It's just that Puma and I shared a very visceral experience once.”
“It's... it's just... I really need to—” Jenna stammers, closing her eyes as she tries to find the words, as though she's trying to fight her way through a long-standing mental block of her own.
"Hey..." you say to Jenna. "It's something I hope you'll never understand, and that's perfectly okay."
You pull her in for a hug but keep your hips back to avoid increasing your embarrassment by getting your wetness on her, too.
"...Thanks," she says, whatever other words she had planned to say slipping back into her mind.
As you pull away from your friend, you turn and stand in front of Puma. As she offers her forearm, you clasp it at the wrist, and you touch foreheads together. A gesture of mentor to student that you've shared for many years.
"I may have gotten sucked in by you, but I survived again. Isn't that the test? That I can walk as close to the edge as possible and then pull back?" you say.
"It's your weakness," Puma says, but nods back. "But you're not wrong, either. Perhaps you are finally for the test, for our last lingering question to be answered. To survive this, you'll have to make sacrifices greater than you can possibly imagine."
"I... understand the risks. And the responsibility. I'm going forward. I'm going back to Dolcett.
"That's the spirit, Scar. Well, hmm..." Jenna says, shuffling through her desk. "Or... should I say... Claire. Claire Elizabeth Wood."
"...Who?" you ask.
"It's like Puma said. People would die for the chance to be the one who ate Scarlett Sky. And God forbid that... Charlene... ever found out you were wandering the streets of Dolcett..."
You close your eyes and remember. Your reluctant business partner, whom you forced into a consent-only arrangement, who has tried to trip you up at every turn for the last five years. She's gotten you as close to being eaten as anyone else, and if not for Jenna—and a lot of luck—you'd be...
"You're right. She'd have me fitted for an oven at any cost."
"Absolutely. So, let's get you some fake identification. But, and I hate to remind you, we only issue 'Conversion Visas' at SkyCorp. Which means you're being accepted into the country under the expectation that you'll be slaughtered within a week of arrival. So, if you don't have both yourself and the girl out of there by then, a death certificate is automatically issued, and you have no legal standing or ability to leave the country."
"...I understand. It's just like before. No, it's exactly like before. All of this is so strange."
"Strange?" Jenna asks.
"Charlene's disappearance, this Zoe girl being sent in error, and it all happening in the same week—the exact calendar week as five years ago."
Jenna doesn't answer, and Puma stares out the window again.
"Oh well, I guess there's no making sense of it now..."
You say, turning to face the door.
"...It's time for One More Week in Dolcett."
One more thing...you did perfect on the Tutorial. You've earned the X item.
Thanks.
Just as you feel yourself beginning to black out, you remember—despite what you fantasize about, what you crave, and what might even be your fate—you have one thing you absolutely must do before deciding anything else.
You have to save Zoe.
You force a deep breath and gasp air in to clear your vision, take your trembling hand and strike down forcefully on Puma's wrist, breaking her grip on your throat. You forcefully grab her other hand and pull it out of your pants, and slide your leg behind hers as you trip her to the ground.
As she falls, a knife at Puma's left hip pops right out of its sheath and flies into the air. You gasp through watery eyes as it flutters overhead. Reaching out through your blurry vision, you manage to grab it just before it tumbles to the ground.
The room hangs in silence as the precariousness of this moment lingers in the air, the only other thing present is the scent of your near orgasm that is soaked through your pants. You don't linger on it, and kneel down to offer Puma her "Chanir" - a ritualistic blade of her people - and a hand to get her back to her feet.
"Oh my goodness." Jenna says. "If her Chanir had hit the ground..."
"...it would've been to the death, for us, Scarlett." Puma growls.
"I...won't...I have to...save..." You struggle to say through a strained throat, Puma's handprint red across your neck.
"Are you sure you're up for this, Scarlett?" Puma says as she sucks your juices off her fingers. "You've practically basted yourself in just a few seconds with me."
“Yeah, Scarlett…” Jenna says, walking over to console you. “I had no idea that you even fantasized about being—”
“I don't,” you say, trying to force this lie into the truth. “It's just that Puma and I shared a very visceral experience once.”
“It's... it's just... I really need to—” Jenna stammers, closing her eyes as she tries to find the words, as though she's trying to fight her way through a long-standing mental block of her own.
"Hey..." you say to Jenna. "It's something I hope you'll never understand, and that's perfectly okay."
You pull her in for a hug but keep your hips back to avoid increasing your embarrassment by getting your wetness on her, too.
"...Thanks," she says, whatever other words she had planned to say slipping back into her mind.
As you pull away from your friend, you turn and stand in front of Puma. As she offers her forearm, you clasp it at the wrist, and you touch foreheads together. A gesture of mentor to student that you've shared for many years.
"I may have gotten sucked in by you, but I survived again. Isn't that the test? That I can walk as close to the edge as possible and then pull back?" you say.
"It's your weakness," Puma says, but nods back. "But you're not wrong, either. Perhaps you are finally for the test, for our last lingering question to be answered. To survive this, you'll have to make sacrifices greater than you can possibly imagine."
"I... understand the risks. And the responsibility. I'm going forward. I'm going back to Dolcett.
"That's the spirit, Scar. Well, hmm..." Jenna says, shuffling through her desk. "Or... should I say... Claire. Claire Elizabeth Wood."
"...Who?" you ask.
"It's like Puma said. People would die for the chance to be the one who ate Scarlett Sky. And God forbid that... Charlene... ever found out you were wandering the streets of Dolcett..."
You close your eyes and remember. Your reluctant business partner, whom you forced into a consent-only arrangement, who has tried to trip you up at every turn for the last five years. She's gotten you as close to being eaten as anyone else, and if not for Jenna—and a lot of luck—you'd be...
"You're right. She'd have me fitted for an oven at any cost."
"Absolutely. So, let's get you some fake identification. But, and I hate to remind you, we only issue 'Conversion Visas' at SkyCorp. Which means you're being accepted into the country under the expectation that you'll be slaughtered within a week of arrival. So, if you don't have both yourself and the girl out of there by then, a death certificate is automatically issued, and you have no legal standing or ability to leave the country."
"...I understand. It's just like before. No, it's exactly like before. All of this is so strange."
"Strange?" Jenna asks.
"Charlene's disappearance, this Zoe girl being sent in error, and it all happening in the same week—the exact calendar week as five years ago."
Jenna doesn't answer, and Puma stares out the window again.
"Oh well, I guess there's no making sense of it now..."
You say, turning to face the door.
"...It's time for One More Week in Dolcett."And then there was two
[[TestThird]]
[[DeathB]]And then there was three
[[TestFour]]
[[DeathC]]Preying on the weak doesn't make you powerful. If anything, it shows the absence of. - Scarlett
Have a seat. The man insists with his guards shoving Charlotte into a dinner share. Who say that I'm preying on the week. But, I would say they live a life of luxury that you couldn't possibly imagine. They don't know suffering, they don't know pain, they eat a perfectly balanced vegetarian diet throughout their lives. Lives sleep in the plushious beds. Never have to. No stress or loss or weakness...
Or freedom or what? It's like to make a choice to take a risk to make a mistake to scuffne scuff a knee to grow
All of these are inconveniences at the end of the day when it comes to one learning their purpose, but these women know their purpose from the minute they are born. So they learn to accept it and even in the one mild inconvenience they might suffer when one of their loved ones moves on to a better place. We just teach and instill at a young age that all of their kind go on to the new world in a better place when their time comes.
By a better place, you mean in your stomach? Scarlett asks aggressively
It's quite the honor to end up in my stomach. Charlotte, you will not be granted such an honor as I don't lower myself to dining on such grizzled meat. They are much much worse. Forgettable Fates than being dined on by me. I remember each and every one of their flavors. Really? But I guarantee you that I ensure that every single one of them taste just as good as the ones before and the ones. After they follow a timeline and a history of culinary perfection, they are self-actualized beings ones ones that don't have to worry about purpose or destiny because they have fulfilled theirs to the highest possible degree. Most people spend the majority of their lives trying to make a dent in the world and these. These are perfection.
Call that praying on people if you wish. If enjoying helping people reach their true purpose is making me a predator he leans in then I'm the Apex. He leans back. It takes another bite savoring the flesh. Besides, isn't helping people reaching their purpose, something we have in common? Don't you run an entire business about sending willing young women so to speak to be eaten? That's different. They had a choice they they make make an informed decision as adults to choose a life that ends on a plate.
How different is it really? Scarlett? The only difference between my girls and your girls is your girls spend a life of stress and denial and urges and eagerness and pain before they're finally allowed the ability to reach their purpose much after they've been spoiled and tarnished and wasted their flesh on snacks and sugars and exercise.
All of the things you describe are things that we look forward to. They're good things, they're part of being human .
“against the grain” scene where Scarlett has to watch the Bryan Cranston clip on the proper way to cut a steak, just as she’d about to be slaughtered and cooked
Perhaps there is our impasse. You use the word human as a catch-all between me and you. I am a man and you are a woman. Bone of my bone flesh of My flesh. You see you exist because of me. That is way it has always been written and it is my destiny to take the flesh that was taken from me and put it back into my body through consumption. I see things the way they are. You see things the way you want them to be
Now. There is a reason you are here across the table and not being served on a plate. No, it's not because I want or considered eating you, but there's plenty of people out there who would reward me in many different ways if they were the ones who were able to sink their teeth into the mighty Scarlet sky. But, I'd like to offer you a choice... He says, chuckling to himself, especially as you're so into choices for your kind. You're into the struggle. Aren't you the stress? You think? It's a good thing. It's a part of being a lie. Well, I have a choice for you Scarlett. And it's a simple choice. You see. I know where the girl is
Betraying her poker face for just a moment before she leans back.
I can have her bra here tonight and I can have both of you flown out first class back to North Carolina by Thursday morning. No harm, no foul. I can guarantee protection and I promise without a finger. Will they be laid on you. You know my reputation. My word is my bond in this world. Whether it's to a man or a woman like you.
And in exchange.
The man takes another bite of the steak, taking a moment to appreciate the texture.
You seem to have a pretty good idea now of who I am. Do you know how much time goes into making a meal like this? How long I wait for that first cut off the ball? This one was harvested not just today but an hour ago. Less than. Just a few minutes ago she was fucking breathing flesh. And now, just as she was destined to be he's melting in my mouth. I savor this. I live for this and yet I continue to have to fight for this when these little freedom fighters come and disrupt my heart.
Scarlett's eyebrow raises
I know that you know. About these women and I know I've got a hunch that you know exactly where they are. The ones that keep ransacking my farms. Trying to free my livestock. Can you imagine after 17 years of being kept fossil and still how much damage it does to a woman's legs for her to Sprint? Even once. Should be a crime against humanity or womanality whatever you want to believe.
They're ruining everything. So, my offer is this. Tell me where they are and I will have you and the girl out of here tonight. I'll take care of them so you don't have to worry about any recourse ever. I can guarantee that none of them will ever come looking for you ever again.
Or, you can pretend you don't know where they are. You won't tell me or whatever else you're going to do on some idea of principal or belief or honor. All things wasted on a woman. You can do that, and I will turn you over to one of your many suitors who will enjoy picking your bones apart or mounting your pretty head as a trophy on their wall. While the innocent little girl you've come to save will be shortly after snuffed and made into a delicious dinner.
There is no third option. Either give them to me or you will give yourself up to your fate. I don't waste time. Make your decision.
He finishes a steak and puts his fork and Knight down and taps's finger is exactly wants on the table.
He either leans in when he knows you're going to give in or leans back if he feels you're going to resist
**************
The main bad dude says don't worry I'm not going to eat you, I have much more sophisticated tastes. My girls are raised from birth specifically to be my dinner. I had this one 18 years. Purchased her mother and had her bred several times, she's nearly as good
Why even save someone like that? What would we do with them?As you enter the Mysterious Wood, you note the thickness of the trees, the similarities between the bark, and the way the brush obscures your vision. There is no clear path here; everything looks the same in a way you can't really place—it's almost like it is the same, somehow. Regardless, you push through, looking for any sort of path that can lead you through the wood and on to your destination.
As you push through another large set of bushes, you see a small, hut-like house in a clearing. It looks like a log cabin with a straw-style roof and a smoking chimney. As you look down at the ground, you notice that there is a clear dirt footpath that winds directly to the front door. For a second, you wonder if the path you see wasn't there just a moment before, but that couldn't be right. The path only leads from where you're standing to the door—nowhere else, and nowhere further.
As you try to make sense of this, you see a woman in the distance. Dressed in a ragged-style dress and covered in a shawl, she comes out of the house and picks some vegetables from the garden. Despite her age, she's able to quickly fill her basket. Due to the distance, it almost looks like the vegetables practically float into her small wicker basket. When she turns to look at you, she isn't scanning her surroundings; rather, she looks directly in your direction, as if she knew you were there the entire time and had simply not acknowledged you.
The hair on the back of your neck stands up as something about this feels very unnerving—and also inevitable. You watch as she waves a hand, beckoning you to join her.
Option:
[[Walk down the path and meet up with the woman. It appears there is some degree of destiny here, but she is the only person who may be able to guide you out of the forest. ->A Witchy Cabin]]
[[Go back into the woods and continue your search. You'll find your way out on your own. ->Try Again 1]]hasCard:true
--
You decide that, with your vision obscured, it’s best to play along for now. They haven’t tied your arms or feet, so you could still make a move if the need arises. For now, you try and conserve your strength, but your mind wanders to your mission.
"I was just trying to go to the market." you lament.
"I'm sorry that we ruined your lunch plan." a voice whispers. "Here, take my Meryl's store card. They'll eat me if they catch me using it anyhow."
You feel something slipped in your pocket as you're led into a place that smells damp, a mildew scent that lingers not only in your nose but on your skin, as though this wasn’t a place humans were ever meant to stay.
It feels like a place where people go to disappear.
You hear whispering as your captors slow their pace—a hushed murmur, as though whatever is happening is a far bigger moment to these people than it is to you. Suddenly, your hood is ripped off, and there is a collective gasp as you see looks of genuine shock and awe at the mere sight of you.
You’re standing in a sewer, surrounded by a few dozen women. You take notice of the poor state of their living conditions—the women here are undernourished, dressed in rags, and some of them don’t appear to communicate at all.
The women circle around you, talking quietly as they stare at you, until they part to allow one woman to approach. She presents as lean but stronger than the others, with short, ruffled dark hair and a scar over her right eyebrow. There’s something eerily familiar about her that you just can’t place. She pulls a vape out of her pocket and takes a drag, letting the vapor drift from her mouth as she crosses her arms.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
You focus your gaze on the woman before you and feel the tattered shreds of a memory you just can’t place. She feels like an apparition, someone you encountered for only a brief moment, yet she left a lasting mark on your very existence.
“No, I don’t remember you. But I’d like to. Why don’t you tell me who you are and why you’ve brought me here?”
“I brought you here to change the world, Scarlett Sky. As for where we met, well, it was in a place where death seemed certain, and yet you found a way to hang on to hope. Even as the lights changed from green to yellow to red, you stood up and declared that survival was possible—that our potential was endless.”
A sudden memory flashes through your mind.
You remember.
Five years ago, after you were captured on Subjugation Night, you were sold to an auction house. There, you were put up for sale to three prospective buyers—but a stranger, THIS stranger, encouraged you that, if you wanted to survive, you had to appeal to the buyer you believed you were most likely to survive with. You followed her advice, survived your hunt with Puma, and, because of her encouragement, are here today.
“I do remember you. But if I recall correctly, we never had the chance to exchange names.”
“Ah, yes. My name didn't matter where we met. It had been stripped from me when I was subjugated and sold, and I've since liberated myself from everything this society had in store for me. I go by Phoenix because it symbolizes what I believe in—rebirth. And you…”
She raises her hand, ensuring she has the full attention of the room.
“You are Scarlett Sky, President of SkyCorp, survivor of the Subjugation Auction, pupil of the huntress Puma Catori, and leader of the movement that women can and should only be eaten with their full consent.”
The whispering from the circle of women grows louder, as though they're witnessing something otherworldly—someone larger than life.
“I'll have to have you introduce me at my next party,” you joke with a smile, but your lips press together at your dishonesty.
You never throw parties. You don't have the time.
Or the friends.
One woman pushes the others aside, and you notice the fresh bruise around her right eye. You realize she must have been one of the women who grabbed you off the street, likely the one you punched in the face before the hood was pulled over your head.
“How do we know she really is who you say she is? I looked at her ID. It says Clare Wood.”
“Now, now,” Phoenix says, raising a hand as the women begin to get loud. “That's no way to treat our guest.”
“I SAY she's just a spy sent to turn us all in. She's not leading us to freedom, just to a banquet where we will all end up being served on the same table. I want her out of here, NOW.”
The woman charges straight at you. Words won't be enough—you'll have to show her who you are by the way you handle this.
[[Take the initiative and hit as hard as you can, to prove to these women who you are.->Underground Dinner]]
[[Let her make the first move and then try and subdue her. ->Underground 2]]This is just how my grandma used to make it,” she says before sliding you into the oven.
Her husband comes over and grabs her behind the hips , Kissinger behind the neck. He's finished showering, only wearing a towel underneath.
How long is this going to take to cook baby? I'm hungry
Oh maybe an hour.
Well, I'm just going to have to satisfy my appetite on you while I wait.
She giggles as he bends her over the island, letting his towel drop as he lifts up her dress and slides his cock in her pantyless p****. He bends her over the island in which you were prepared, some of the raw dough smearing on her apron and dress, flower floating in the air as he grabs a handful of it pulls up her dress and smacks it on the ass, leaving a flower footprint on his rustic housewife's ass, as he grips her by the back of the hair and has her stare into the oven.
One day that's going to be you in there. He says as he washes the cheese rise and bubble on the top layer of your prepared dish.
You never eat me... I'm too good of a cook for that.
Yeah you're probably right. Who am I ever going to find who could make everything I want? Granted...
He picks her up and continues f****** her as he walks her with his muscular thighs to the processing room, let out and draw an airing out. Body hangs on the rope.
You'd look good just like this. Sometimes I imagine the same lines drawn on you.
He pounds her flesh mercifully as he grips a handful of her hair and she can't help but reach orgasm
God I think about it too. Don't let me get too old husband when it's time for me or I'm still beautiful turn me in a delicious meat. I'll write all my recipes down. I just want to be valued. I just want to
She comes all over his cock as they both scream out an orgasm, the sounds echoing through the room that is only filled with your body as it dangles lifelessly. As they come down from their orgasm, they giggle and leave you to dry out. She leans in the oven and takes a toothpick and sticks it in and not.
Well, That sure killed enough time. How does lasagna sound for dinner?"On second thought... I don't know if I'm really up for this..." you say, your voice quaking with fear."
"Really? You've trained with me for five years. You should be able to complete a simple overnight operation, no sweat. We'll go over everything I've taught you together."
.
"Yeah, Scarlett, I believe in you, too. You've shown me that anything is possible if you're just determined enough. You'll do the right thing; I know it."
[[Agree to go to Dolcett and review your training with Puma. There's no point in starting this game if you're not going to play it. ->Tutorial Literal]]
[[Decline adamantly and send Puma instead. Accept that you will not travel to Dolcettt, and the scenario will end. ->Ending Letter D]]You decide to stay left, contuining to move forward just as you have before. The only distinct visuals on your run are the sows - who still look very much like women - various lengths of hair, and a calm, docile, pleasant look on their faces. They don't seem to have a hint of stress on them - the only pain they seem to have ever experienced is from the sun - their skin leathery and hard.
You pause for a second as you notice one guard walk up behind a sow, who quickly lowers her head down and sticks her ass out to him. He slaps her on the ass and drops his pants, and you find yourself mesmerized by a moment as she's pumped from behind as a sort of break from work from whoever is fucking her. Does she care who he is? Is she significent to him in any way?
No matter, as he is looking the other way, and you realize and you can continue on to the third fork in the road.
"Half way there, Scarlett. Keep it up."
[[Take the third path going left.->Caught C]]
[[Take the third path going right.->Fourth Coin Flip]]"I know, Blueberry."
Blueberry gestures at the pocket watch sitting on the planning table, on top of the map of the city center.
"I know she said she's coming back." Phoenix says as she shakes her head, vapor leaking from her nose.
Blueberry lowers her eyes and signs a message to Phoenix.
"I'd like her to as well, but the odds are..."
Blueberry flashes three fingers.
"Yes, higher than zero, but—"
A commotion in the LFD Underground breaks up their conversation. Dozens of women line up near the door, and you press through them to meet Phoenix in the center, with Zoe in tow.
"I don't believe it," Phoenix says. "Only you could've..."
Blueberry rushes over and gives you a hug.
"Long story." you say through Blueberry’s arms.
"For another time." Phoenix looks at Zoe. "And you must be THE Zoe Sanders."
"Have we met? Also, Scarlett, who are your friends? This place is a DUMP."
Everyone laughs as you see Dee's book sitting on the table with the map.
"I need that back. I have a promise to keep."
"It's quite the tale," Phoenix shares with a smile. "Have you read it?"
"I haven't had a chance."
"It's all the women here can talk about."
"THEY read it?"
"Most of them can't read, actually. So, we gathered, and I read it to them." Phoenix says, choking back a tear. "It's really inspired them for the march tomorrow. A WOMAN really wrote it? It's extraordinary. I'd love to meet her."
You lower your head and gently gesture in the negative.
"I see.” Phoenix laments. Then tomorrow, we will march for her, too."
"First, I'm taking Zoe to the airport, and I'll be right back to help with whatever your plan is for tomorrow morning," you say.
"Hey..." Zoe tries to interrupt.
"I'm not sure if I can let you do that.” Phoenix implores. “We need every woman that we can get for tomorrow. Every extra body strengthens our numbers. We need her to stay,"
"About that." Zoe again attempts to interject.
"I'm calling Jenna and getting her booked, and that's all there is to it," you snap back.
You pull out the cell phone from the guard you stole the fatigues from, and Phoenix rips it out of your hands and throws it at the concrete ground, shattering the screen.
"A cellphone down here?! Are you kidding me?" Phoenix yells.
"She's STILL going!" you yell back.
"SHE IS NOT!" Phoenix challenges, stepping into your space.
"HEYYYYY!" Zoe yells out, stomping her feet.
A silence overtakes the LFD as you both stop arguing.
"Both of you keep arguing over what I'm supposed to do, but nobody's asking me."
"We honor a woman's right to choose here, Zoe Sanders," Phoenix says. "So, make your choice."
"I've decided..."
Zoe loudly gulps, her body shaking for a moment before turning to at you.
"I've decided that you are right," Zoe says to you. "I would like to go home."
You reach out your arm to walk Zoe out, but Zoe turns to Phoenix.
"But I've also decided that Phoenix is right. That every extra woman in this march could be one more who decides to join in. So my staying COULD be the difference."
You and Phoenix stare at each other.
"So... I've decided that I'd like to go home, but not until every woman in Dolcett is free."
"So be it," Phoenix says as she walks back over to her map of the city center, hitting her vape. "We will arrange a tent for you to sleep in."
"I'd like to sleep in Scarlett's tent, if that's okay. She makes me feel safe."
Phoenix looks at Zoe, and then at you, a look of disappointment in her eyes as she scans your body ravenously. She then gestures a farewell and stands back over the city center map, resuming her planning.
---
You lie in a cot, with just one candle burning between yourself and Zoe, flipping through the pages of Dee's book.
*And it was in that moment, when I had reached an age where I was told that the only true choice I’d ever have was to choose the instrument of my own destruction, that I decided to dance to a very different tune. I decided that I would never give up the part of me that had learned to smile and love. Because deep down, beyond our responsibilities, our obligations, and what we are told to do, the part of us that is truly indestructible is the will to dig deep into our souls and share that with the world, because that is where the unmistakable power of the human condition truly exists.*
"Scarlett."
"Yes, Zoe?"
"We're all going to die tomorrow, aren't we?"
You look over at Zoe, still holding Dee's book open in your hands.
"Having second thoughts?" you say.
"No. But... I'm afraid. How... can I be brave like you?"
"The good news is fear is the necessary condition for bravery," you say as you close Dee's book, setting it down next to your bed. "The rest is just the willingness to act."
"You're saying that, um, you're afraid too?"
"All the time, Zoe," you say, your eyes wandering away. "All the time."
"Then how do you keep going?" Zoe says as she sits up. "You're practically a superhero with the things you do."
"Anyone could be a hero, Zoe. There's no special quality about me, or a trait that makes me any different from anyone else. Bravery is just perseverance beyond fear. You don't mute the fear; you're not absent of feeling overwhelmed. You simply take that energy and push forward—to act, to take a stand, to carry the weight that is required for the world to change."
"…you make it sound so hard."
"I won't lie to you. It is. But it's necessary. If you want things to be better, you have to be willing to make the sacrifice."
"But how much do you have to sacrifice, Scarlett? Would you sacrifice yourself to make the world a better place?"
"If necessary," you say coldly.
"How can you say that?" Zoe says with shock in her voice. "You have to know deep down that you're worth more than that."
You don't answer.
"Maybe you're right, Scarlett. Okay. I'll just... try... to be brave. No, that's not it. I'll be afraid, but I won't let that stop me from... standing up and doing what's right, too."
"That's the way, Zoe."
"Thanks, Scarlett. And hey..."
"Yes?"
"... thank you so much for saving me."
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Friday AM -> Fri AM]]As Lindsay raises her glass, the trembling dark-haired woman raises her as well, the ice clinking against the glass. The couple making out take a break from their steamy foreplay to grab their drinks and hold them up as well.
“Oh,” the quiet blonde with neck-length, curled hair says as she reaches for her drink.
You quickly intervene, reach down, pick up her drink, and raise it to the table.
“To new friends,” you say.
You raise the glass to your lips, and you see the eyes of the dirty-blonde and the couple widen with anticipation as the drink gets closer to your lips. The frightened woman looks away, her body recoiling.
“Hey, that was MINE!” the clear newcomer to this group says, pouting as she places her hands on her hips.
“Oh, how rude of me,” you say. “I’ll have to order you one on the next round. I promise.”
“You BETTER. The girl snaps back. “I don’t like people who don’t keep your promises, um—”
“I’m Claire. And you are?”
“Oh, pleased to meet you, Claire. My name is—”
“Your name…” Lindsay interrupts. “…isn’t as important as you drinking to our toast.”
You look down at your drink and notice it appears much more carbonated than the others.
“…Not until I’ve been introduced,” you say as you take a seat, pulling your chair in to the table and setting the drink down.
"How rude." the woman who is now straddling her boyfriend says. "I'm Alexandra."
"And I'm Rowan." he says as he thrusts his hips upwards into his girlfriend’s pelvis, as they continue to make out.
"Luna," the shaking woman says, wiping a tear from her face. "I wouldn't drink that if I were you."
"NOW, Luna, why would you say such a thing to our new friend?" Lindsay hisses.
"...We've got our pound of flesh coming. We don't need more tonight."
You turn your body toward the only unintroduced woman and smile. She is either Zoe Sanders, or Zoe is likely in the kitchen by now, already ordered as someone’s entrée.
"And lastly—" you say with anticipation.
A large serving tray is set loudly next to you on a tray stand, the clanging of plates on top shaking you back into the reality that you are still in a very precarious place. You watch as the appetizer orders are set in the center of the table, and you instinctively salivate, especially after such a long flight.
But then, your brain kicks in, and you remember exactly what has been set in front of you.
"Excuse me, we have the potstickers..."
You wince at the dumpling that is certainly stuffed with a woman's flesh.
"...the meatballs..."
A lump hangs in your throat as you see the ground and hand-pressed girl meat placed on the table, soaking in a red sauce.
"...and lastly, the steak tips, served rare."
You stop breathing as you see the cool, dark-red center of the bite-sized pieces of whoever this once was.
"Bon appétit. Your entrée should be served momentarily."
"About that, we'd like to make an addition to our order..." Lindsay says, pointing to the bottom of the menu.
You look at your menu and see that the bottom lines up with the "Bring-A-Friend" special mentioned earlier.
The waiter pulls out his server pad, eager to write whatever is said next.
[[Listen carefully to what Lindsay says. The girl isn’t going to go along with being eaten and Lindsay may identify her as Zoe. ->Oh well]]
[[Order the unnamed girl for yourself before Lindsay has a chance to speak. You’ll figure out the rest later. ->Cart Rolls Out]]You feel your brain wake up just as it's about to become completely consumed with lust. You can't deny that it is extremely intoxicating to have your greatest fantasy literally served right in front of you, but as much as you crave and want it, another part of your being pulls you back from the edge of the abyss and centers you on the goal that brought you here today.
You look to your left and see the girl you've come to save, looking on as she processes what she's seeing and begins to react in horror.
"Okay, so, wait a minute..." the girl says as she points to the roast. "...Are we on one of those weird shows where, like—she's cake?"
"She is not cake," you say flatly, shaking the last of the cobwebs out of your mind.
"Then... that's... a person? They're going to eat... a person?"
"Zoe Sanders," you say matter-of-factly.
"Yes? Have we met?" she responds.
"We're leaving."
You grab her by the shoulder and pick her up, literally lifting her off her feet with sheer strength alone. You can hear the table protest, but you do not listen, marching her directly toward the front door. As you do, you take note of your surroundings, navigating through the heavily staffed restaurant, with a waiter, bread runner, and beverage waitress for each table, multiple floor managers working, as well as security at the front door, who are already beginning to hold the door open for you.
"Shouldn't we say goodbye to our new friends first? Geez."
"They're trying to say goodbye to us, Zoe."
"Oh, I can't hear them from here," she says, looking back.
As Zoe turns her head back forward, she gasps so loudly that it even stops you in your tracks. You turn your head and see a naked woman at the table just beside you, climbing into a roasting pan.
"Okay, okay, but just for a minute, for the 'gram, and then let me out. That's our deal," a young brunette says.
"Yeah, sure, babe. Whatever you say. Climb in," her boyfriend says back.
She climbs in, and her boyfriend eagerly straps her into the pan.
"Okay, just take the pictures already, and I'll have finished my dare."
He eagerly begins to take pictures while gesturing to the waitstaff.
"Okay, this isn't funny anymore," she protests. "You're really starting to scare me. My dad would KILL me if I end up a restaurant roast."
"Well, it's probably the oven that's going to kill you," her boyfriend says as he shoves a red apple in her mouth.
Two waiters rush over, grab the pan, and slide it onto a rolling cart. The girl screams through the apple in response, her eyes scanning the restaurant in a panic.
"Yeah, I'm afraid we have some bad news for you, Beth. Turns out that when you sign that waiver clause saying that you wanted to take that photo just for social media, it's up to ME when I let you out of the pan. And I've decided, well, that you'd best be let out when you're good and roasted."
He slaps her on the ass as she's wheeled toward the kitchen.
Zoe looks at you, her expression despondent.
"We HAVE to do something. We can't just let them kill her!" Zoe exclaims.
[[Force Zoe out of the restaurant before one of you ends up in the pan. She's the mission. ->Restaurant Final]]
[[Take a deep breath. Take your chances and try to fight off a dozen people. ->Failed Fight]]You feel confident as you say the name loudly, but you hear Jenna snicker and sigh in frustration. You try to turn your hip outward to block Puma's advance, but she uses your momentum against you, circles around, and grips you by the waist. With one lift of her hips, you feel yourself carried off the ground and suplexed onto your neck, the impact giving you a noticeable headache. She kicks you while you're on the ground out of frustration, and you slide back to collect yourself.
She kicks you while you're on the ground out of frustration, and you slide back to collect yourself.
"I really can't believe you can't remember a name. How do you expect to survive in Dolcett if you can't keep track of your only objective?"
Jenna goes to speak, but Puma raises a hand.
"I'm going to make this more realistic for you. If you've truly guessed wrong twice and aren't just fooling with me, then you're down to a 50/50 shot. That's how a lot of the choices go during the real thing. So, we'll play for stakes. Either you get it right this time, or I'm going to be having you as a steak dinner tonight."
"What is the name of the girl you're going to save?"
[[A) Jenna ->Tossed 3]]
[[B) Zoe->Tutorial Items]]
[[C) Lily->Tossed 3]]
[[D) Chloe->Tossed 3]]You say the name, but your words sound defeated even as they come out of your throat. You're annoyed with yourself that you can't remember, and you try to blame the headache, not even seeing Puma coming as she picks you up by the neck and pelvis, swings you over her head, and pile-drives you headfirst into the tile, cracking your skull open.
Your blood pools out of your broken brain, and you are dead on impact.
"I don't even know what is leaking out, as there clearly isn't much thought going on in there." Puma says in disgust.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
"I...can't believe she couldn't remember a simple name." Jenna says, walking over to your body, a vacant stare in her eyes. "Maybe she was just overwhelmed? The moment was just too big for her?"
Puma doesn't respond, she just carefully uses the blade that she had stored at her hip to carve a steak out of your thigh - a boneless cut of about 24 ounces.
"It doesn't matter. You're going to book me a flight home, with TWO checked bags, and I want that fancy security you use when you travel to Dolcett on business."
Puma stands and stares at Jenna, letting the uncomfortable silence linger for a while.
"Okay, I'll see what I can-"
"Now."
Jenna fidgets but then pulls out her phone and calls concierge.
Puma's eyes never break from her mission, as she continues to portion you out for meals for her fridge, freezer, and pantry.
****************************
[[Checkpoint: Restart Tutorial ->Tutorial Literal]]You feel confident as you say the name loudly, but out of the corner of your eye, you see Jenna shake her head. You feel doubt form in the pit of your stomach, and this feeling distracts you long enough for Puma to slide in alongside you, wrap her arm around your head, and throw you over her hip.
You crash to the ground in a heap, with your arm still firmly in her grip. She shakes her head and releases your arm as she steps back.
"Kudos for saying the name with enough gusto to sound convincing, but people in Dolcett will see right through the wrong information. And trust me, once they see through you, they'll be planning to stick a knife right through you. So, I'm going to give you the list again. Think deeply, as it was just four passages ago that her name was mentioned. Let's get it right this time.
"What is the name of the girl you're going to save?"
[[A) Jenna ->Tossed 2]]
[[B) Zoe->Tutorial Items]]
[[C) Lily->Tossed 2]]
[[D) Chloe->Tossed 2]]You're able to unhook the broken chain from the link, and you can see the entrance to the truck. You wait until the last minute, then hop over the plastic-wrapped area, landing directly in the back of the truck. It bounces with a thud.
"What was that?" you hear one of the truck drivers say.
You stay in position as he comes around to inspect the noise. As he peers around to see what had landed so heavily, you hide behind a box. He steps up onto the bed of the truck, and you try to breathe as quietly as possible, watching his movements. When you lock eyes, as he realizes someone is hiding back there, you lunge forward, slamming his head into the tailgate, knocking him clean out.
You quickly leap down and rush to the front of the truck, knowing now that it will be difficult to hide both yourself and another body. You jump into the driver's seat, put it in drive, and begin to race the truck down toward the banquet hall.
As you drive, you see that there is a gate leading to the banquet hall that is currently closed. You decide you're just going to have to ram through it. You press the accelerator as you get closer and closer, with the guards beginning to wave frantically back and forth. Just as you crash through the gate, you head up the trail toward the banquet hall.
On foot, you feel like it would have taken you about two hours to reach the hall. But by car, you could probably be there in five to ten minutes. You just have to keep your foot on the accelerator and...
You notice that as you press down on the accelerator, it's no longer giving you any throttle. You look up at the display and see that there is a blinking engine light.
SECURITY LOCKOUT. REMOTE DISENGAGE.
You try to open the door and make the rest of the way on foot, but it is locked. You lean over to kick the window out, but you realize it's secured by bulletproof glass. You continue to struggle to find a way out of the truck, banging on it until two other trucks pull alongside.
You frantically move from place to place as you're surrounded.
Mistress Everett steps out of one of the trucks and stands in front of you, placing a hand on her hip impatiently.
"There's no way out of this, Melody. You've gotten all the girls on the farm riled up now from your little show. Do you know how much of a setback that is for us?"
Just as multiple guards position themselves at the doors, they suddenly unlock and swing open from both sides. You're able to fend off one guard as another drags you out of the car from the opposite side and throws you into the dirt.
"There's really no way around this," Mistress Everett says as she places a hand on the back of your head and presses a foot down.
"I'm afraid we're not going to be able to turn you into livestock anymore, not after the stunt you pulled. I'm afraid you're dinner - tonight."
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
"Yes, yes, it was a dreadful scene, but I assure you that none of the other sows were riled up or experienced any type of pain or frustration."
Mistress Everett stands transfixed in her office in the Red Barn overlooking Bouvier Farms. Usually, she goes home to prepare the evening’s supper, but there is plenty of work to be done after the spectacle of your near escape. There are no points for almost in Dolcett—anything else results in you ending up on a plate.
Mistress Everett rubs her head nervously as she stares out the window while talking on the phone.
"I'm telling you. Not a single one even moved a muscle. They remain docile, unengaged, and, most of all, tender. It's just one of these rebel girls. I know, I know. I should have just snuffed her from the beginning. I just wanted to teach her a lesson."
As she listens in on the phone, her eyes drift to a rotisserie—specifically, your tenderloin—slowly spinning in a countertop convection oven that the Mistress keeps in her office for just such an occasion. She watches as your meat slowly spins, a perfect two-pound portion that she will dine on tonight, and then have some for breakfast. She has a small pan catching your drippings, which she slides out and eagerly drinks up.
"Yes, I know that women can never learn. I know that women are stupid."
Her grip on her phone intensifies as she calls us her eyes.
"Yes, I understand. I will do better. I am the exception. Thank you for your continued trust, sir."
As she puts her phone down, she slides out your roast and begins to slice you piece by piece. She uses your own drippings to ladle on top, providing an additional layer of moisture to your very white meat. Picking up a fork and knife, she eagerly cuts in and enjoys her first bite.
Just so she's about to bring your flesh to her lips, she pauses, as she hears footsteps at her door.
She just closes her eyes.
The door opens and the footsteps continue. Mistress Everett’s life does not. Her brains are splashed out the back window as they are blown out of her head by a silenced pistol. Her head smacks down next to your plate of pork loin and bleeds on her desk.
She is carried over the shoulder by one of her executioners and taken out of the office. The other takes a moment to clean off the desk and picks up a slice of your tenderloin and rips it apart off with his teeth, chewing it and nodding his approval. He decides to take the plate with him as he catches up to his colleague to ensure that the Mistress is properly disposed of – ground up and fed to her sow’s in the morning in their troughs.
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Conveyor Belt ->Convey 1]]“Something about this just doesn't feel right,” you say to yourself.
You turn and take a left, trying to walk straight toward the forest at a 90° angle, in the opposite direction of the house. You take a couple of peeks back, and the woman does not pursue you. Instead, she simply bends down and examines her vegetables as she continues to pick out the ones for whatever meal she plans on creating.
You continue to push your way through the brush, trying to identify a path or at least a direction in which you're going. As you continue to march forward, you push through into a clearing and see a very similar ancient-looking home in front of you. As you narrow your vision, you realize it's somehow the same house, even though you swore you were going in the opposite direction. You look down and notice that there is a path once again, starting directly at your feet and winding to the front door. You don't know what to make of it.
[[Walk down the path and knock on the door, this woman must know the way out of the forest. ->A Witchy Cabin]]
[[Continue searching the forest for a way out. Nothing about what is happening makes you comfortable. ->Try Again 2]]You turn again and wander into the forest. But the result is the same. You follow the path, pushing through the various trees, bushes, and undergrowth until you are once again placed in front of the cabin. It doesn't matter which direction you go or how often you repeat this. You always end up in front of the house.
[[Follow the path and knock on the door. Accept the risk that whatever witchcraft may be happening here, you'll have to confront it head on. ->A Witchy Cabin]]
[[Continue searching through the forest for an exit. ->Try Again 11]]You turn again and wander into the forest. But the result is the same. You follow the path, pushing through the various trees, bushes, and undergrowth until you are once again placed in front of the cabin. It doesn't matter which direction you go or how often you repeat this. You always end up in front of the house.
[[Follow the path and knock on the door. Accept the risk that whatever witchcraft may be happening here, you'll have to confront it head on. ->A Witchy Cabin]]
[[Continue searching through the forest for an exit. ->Try Again 12]]You turn again and wander into the forest. But the result is the same. You follow the path, pushing through the various trees, bushes, and undergrowth until you are once again placed in front of the cabin. It doesn't matter which direction you go or how often you repeat this. You always end up in front of the house.
[if hasWoodItem]
The bracelet you received from Pheonix is glowing. A light appears that points towards the cabin.
[[Follow the path and knock on the door. Accept the risk that whatever witchcraft may be happening here, you'll have to confront it head on. ->A Lucky Exit]]
[[Continue searching through the forest for an exit. ->Try Again 3]]
[else]
[[Follow the path and knock on the door. Accept the risk that whatever witchcraft may be happening here, you'll have to confront it head on. ->A Lucky Exit]]
[[Continue searching through the forest for an exit. ->Try Again 3]]This time, you make sure to turn around entirely and walk in the opposite direction. It would help if any of the trees looked different from the others. It’s almost as if they’ve been copied from one another, their DNA exact, as if only a half dozen different varieties have been replanted in every direction.
As you push your way through the brush and try to take note of the grass, you realize that it’s all just the same, as though you’re walking through one repeated void. Then you gasp as you realize that you’ve once again stepped out into the clearing, with the same houses in front of you.
You look down, and the path has formed again, winding at your feet. There is only the house with the smoking chimney, waiting for you.
[[It appears there's no avoiding this. Follow the path and go knock on the door. This woman must know the way out of the forest or at least the reason why you can't escape it. Except the danger that she may be involved in this. ->A Witchy Cabin]]
[[Keep looking through the forest. ->Try Again 3]]You turn again and wander into the forest. But the result is the same. You follow the path, pushing through the various trees, bushes, and undergrowth until you are once again placed in front of the cabin. It doesn't matter which direction you go or how often you repeat this. You always end up in front of the house.
[[Follow the path and knock on the door. Accept the risk that whatever witchcraft may be happening here, you'll have to confront it head on. ->A Witchy Cabin]]
[[Continue searching through the forest for an exit. ->Try Again 4]]You turn again and wander into the forest. But the result is the same. You follow the path, pushing through the various trees, bushes, and undergrowth until you are once again placed in front of the cabin. It doesn't matter which direction you go or how often you repeat this. You always end up in front of the house.
[[Follow the path and knock on the door. Accept the risk that whatever witchcraft may be happening here, you'll have to confront it head on. ->A Witchy Cabin]]
[[Continue searching through the forest for an exit. ->Try Again 5]]You turn again and wander into the forest. But the result is the same. You follow the path, pushing through the various trees, bushes, and undergrowth until you are once again placed in front of the cabin. It doesn't matter which direction you go or how often you repeat this. You always end up in front of the house.
[[Follow the path and knock on the door. Accept the risk that whatever witchcraft may be happening here, you'll have to confront it head on. ->A Witchy Cabin]]
[[Continue searching through the forest for an exit. ->Try Again 6]]You turn again and wander into the forest. But the result is the same. You follow the path, pushing through the various trees, bushes, and undergrowth until you are once again placed in front of the cabin. It doesn't matter which direction you go or how often you repeat this. You always end up in front of the house.
[[Follow the path and knock on the door. Accept the risk that whatever witchcraft may be happening here, you'll have to confront it head on. ->A Witchy Cabin]]
[[Continue searching through the forest for an exit. ->Try Again 7]]You turn again and wander into the forest. But the result is the same. You follow the path, pushing through the various trees, bushes, and undergrowth until you are once again placed in front of the cabin. It doesn't matter which direction you go or how often you repeat this. You always end up in front of the house.
[[Follow the path and knock on the door. Accept the risk that whatever witchcraft may be happening here, you'll have to confront it head on. ->A Witchy Cabin]]
[[Continue searching through the forest for an exit. ->Try Again 8]]You turn again and wander into the forest. But the result is the same. You follow the path, pushing through the various trees, bushes, and undergrowth until you are once again placed in front of the cabin. It doesn't matter which direction you go or how often you repeat this. You always end up in front of the house.
[[Follow the path and knock on the door. Accept the risk that whatever witchcraft may be happening here, you'll have to confront it head on. ->A Witchy Cabin]]
[[Continue searching through the forest for an exit. ->Try Again 9]]You turn again and wander into the forest. But the result is the same. You follow the path, pushing through the various trees, bushes, and undergrowth until you are once again placed in front of the cabin. It doesn't matter which direction you go or how often you repeat this. You always end up in front of the house.
[[Follow the path and knock on the door. Accept the risk that whatever witchcraft may be happening here, you'll have to confront it head on. ->A Witchy Cabin]]
[[Continue searching through the forest for an exit. ->Try Again 10]]You wake up at 4 a.m., meditate, do some body weight exercises, shower, and get dressed. You go up the elevator and knock on Zoe's door. A second time. A third.
Zoe does not answer the door. You hurry onto the elevator and jam the button for the lobby seven times, noting that the definition of insanity is repeating the same thing and expecting a different result. There is a certain level of insanity in the mission you've accepted and the place you now stand, you realize, as you press the button an eighth time.
Just as the elevator begins to move, you feel a hand grab your shoulder. You don't even stop to think as you spin around, lower your center of gravity, and thrust upward. Your forearm rises and pins whoever tried to grab you against the wall by the chest. Your other hand draws back, ready to strike whoever is trying to take you this morning.
"Damn, you're strong."
You look up and see Asher looking back at you, a concerned but smiling expression on his face. A pendant he wears around his neck has come out from underneath his shirt and rests against your forearm.
You slowly release your hold and take a step back.
"Sorry. I guess I'm just jumpy, is all."
"It's okay. I just wanted to tell you that—hey—we're staying in the same hotel. What are the chances?" Asher says with a laugh.
"I don't believe in coincidences," you say.
"Fate, then? By the way, isn't it... illegal for a woman here to put her hands on a man? I'm pretty sure, by the law of the land, that I'm entitled to eat you now."
Your eyes narrow, and you breathe from deep in your chest before you speak.
"...you're welcome to try," you mutter as you slide one foot back into a more athletic stance.
The elevator door opens, and Asher laughs as he offers a hand, inviting you to step out first. You insist that he walk ahead of you, just in case he has other plans in mind.
"Don't worry. I'm still shopping for my first taste."
"Oh?" you say disinterestedly, scanning the lobby for Zoe.
"Yeah. I walked into a nice place down the street, got seated, looked over the menu, and... I don't know. It just seemed a little too... impersonal to me. I always thought the woman I would eat and I would share some type of special moment. Some type of connection. Instead, I was just looking at someone's name—or, well, what used to be their name—and what she was prepared with and how much she cost."
"Didn't do it for you, huh?" you say, sighing when you realize Zoe is nowhere to be found.
"No. But I've got other plans tonight. Something more intimate. You sure you don't want to come along? As my guest, of course."
You remember the bring-a-friend special from yesterday and shake your head.
"No, thank you. I'll be leaving shortly."
"Oh, is your dinner date tonight? I hope your conversion is everything you dream of."
You exhale loudly as your eyes close - your brain jumping to your dream of being in Charlene's oven.
"Uh, sorry if I upset you." Asher says, trying to process your expression. "Listen—I'm in room 605 if you change your mind about tonight. I'd..."
He pauses and waits until you lock eyes with him.
"...I would really enjoy your company, is all."
He walks off, and you feel a strange emotion - you can't put your finger on what it's called. It seems like he simply likes you for being YOU—not for what you do, what you represent, or what can be gained from you.
It feels...nice.
You shrug it off and rush to the front desk, where you're less than thrilled to be greeted by Kyle.
"Do you know if room 519 checked out? Zoe Sanders?"
"Not checked out, no," Kyle says, again leaning over the counter and taking a long time to stare at your ass. "Why don't I check you out, Miss Wood?"
"You already are," you mutter sarcastically. "I need to know where she went."
"She asked for directions to the market a few minutes ago. Said she was hungry."
You gasp.
"Did you give her directions to the GROCERY STORE, or the MARKET?!"
He shrugs.
"She asked for the market. I gave her the market. It's a shock anyone that naive and tender has lasted as long as she has. But it seems like the girl had her mind made up, so who am I to stop her from ending up on hook?"
"God damn it. I ALSO need directions to the market, then."
"Oh? Did you two have a pact to be served together or something?"
******************************
You rush down the street toward the market, again breaking into a healthy jog. Zoe wasn't safe in a restaurant, but in a literal meat market, she'd probably not last—
Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a white van has been driving alongside you for several seconds. Just as you prepare to change your speed, the door flies open and four women jump out.
You stop and elbow one in the stomach, throw the second over your shoulder, and land a punch on the third, but the fourth slips a bag over your head. Unable to see, you're overwhelmed as your captors grab enough of you to haul you inside the van, and you hear the door slam shut.
You swing your limbs furiously and make contact with a couple of bodies. You feel someone reach into your pocket and take your phone, and then you hear it smashed against the seat beside you.
*So much for that 9:50am flight home.*
"Listen, we aren't trying to hurt you. But you're coming with us."
"Where?" you say through the bag, still struggling to break free as the van picks up speed.
"To the LFD. The Underground. It's..."
You hear whispering around you, followed by a sharp "Shh."
"...It's an honor to meet you, Scarlett Sky. Truly."
[[Play it cool. Don't acknowledge who you are, save your strength, and see how this plays out. ->The Underground]]
[[Keep struggling. You still might break free, and you're going to be eaten quietly. ->Underground Mean]]Puma dives forward and gracefully throws a sweeping kick at your feet, but you leap in time to dodge the knockdown. Just as your feet are about to land, she lunges at your chest to take you to the ground, but you're able to spin around on your toes and circle around her. Just as she turns around, you grab the metal water bottle of your desk and throw it at her, impacting at her chest and knocking her backwards.
"I think that's enough training for today, Puma. I'm ready."
Puma smiles and begins to approach you once more, but her step this time is more of a saunter than an advance to continue your skirmish.
"There is one more challenge you will face in Dolcett, one that you know all too well."
She steps directly against you, deeply into your personal space, and breathes on your neck.
"You still think about it, don't you? How I had you hung by your ankles, just after I tasted your pussy, and made you cum all over my face..."
Puma slides her hand down your stomach and presses it over your crotch, the pressure inwards against your pants causing an instant rush of pleasure between your legs. A soft, warm breath escapes your lips as you feel your face flush.
Puma smiles as she continues.
"I know how much that deep down; you STILL fantasize about being eaten. Don't deny it. Don't deny yourself..."
You try to say something but you only moan as Puma begins to rub circles over your clit while her other hand traces up your body and against your breast.
"I...um...uh..." you say, as you press your hips eagerly into Puma's hand.
"Scarlett..." Jenna says, as she watches on with a concerned, but curious look.
"This type of challenge is called a MINDBREAK - a moment where you become so overwhelmed with sexual desire that you can't keep your head on straight, right when someone is planning on cutting it off. If you face a Mindbreak, you'll suddenly see a giant wall of text, a smorgasbord of lustful feelings that are overwhelming you in the moment. In that mess of words, in that mess of your mind, there will be one selection, one gasp of hope that you'll have to find to pass through and survive. If you choose incorrectly, you'll become so overwhelmed in lust that you'll lose yourself, accept your fate, and be at the mercy of whoever is with you to claim you as their next meal.
"I can...resist...I don't...want...to...be..." you stammer out as your words match the pace of Puma's rubbing, and not the pace of your own mind.
"Mindbreaks are also timed - so if you do not make a selection within a set time limit, the passage will automatically advance to your opponent’s next move – and I promise it will be serving YOU for their dinner. How you enter a Mindbreak also matters – choosing a level headed prompt offers you more time, choosing a lustful prompt offers less. But, the tradeoff for a more dangerous mindbreak could be earning a valuable item for a future decision - so in this story, the choice is truly yours."
Puma slides her hand up and over your belly button and down your pants, her fingers now pressing directly against your outer lips. Just as she does, she wraps her other hand around the front of your neck, squeezing your windpipe closed.
"For this last challenge, we are playing for real. I'm going to squeeze the life out of you right now take you back to the Sleeping Willow forest and have you for dinner, just like I was meant to five years ago. Unless, that is...there is enough of yourself left to stop me."
[[You don't feel too aroused. You'll have forty seconds to break free of her grip. ->Tutorial Mindbreak]]
[[You're feeling VERY aroused. You'll have only eighteen seconds before she strangles you. ->Tutorial Mindbreak Short]]Puma steps forward and sends a driving left jab toward your face, but you easily parry her attack.
"Good, good. The text itself has all the right answers you'll need on your journey to ensure your survival—it's just a matter of careful reading and making the right decision. But, of course, Dolcett is a very dangerous place, and often, the answer won't be right in front of you. Sometimes, you'll have to read the text carefully and look for clues or indications of the right answer. Sometimes, the correct answer will be hidden in the text, with a certain word or its synonyms repeated throughout the body that precedes the choice as a way of guiding you forward. You have to read carefully, and then perhaps read it again after you see the choices, to find the right answer.
"Let's see if you can figure this out. I'm going to throw a kick. Let's see if you can figure out which one is the right one to block."
[[Defend a kick from her right leg. ->Tutorial Recall]]
[[Defend a kick from her left leg. ->Kicked]]Puma dives forward and gracefully throws a sweeping kick at your feet, just as you lock them into the ground, planning to sprawl on top of her as you expect her to dive forward.
You guessed wrong, and her sweep knocks you off your feet and flat onto your back, with your legs over your head. As you try to swing them down, Puma mounts you with all of her weight and pins you to the floor, her eyes appearing menacing, eager, and hungry as she practically salivates at having you in such a vulnerable position.
"I don't know what you were thinking. I told you to use the item. Now, not only have you not used it, but it is no longer usable, but you're helpless. Is this what gets you off? Taking unneccessary risks and hoping you don't end up snuffed?"
"I...um..." you say, as you feel yourself getting wet as your cunt is pressed down by hers as she increases the pressure of her mount.
“Or do you take risks because you’re hoping that I will catch you, like the prey you are, and have ALWAYS been, and finally fulfill your destiny and eat you? Because you are looking mighty delicious right now.”
You try to push Puma off of you, but your resistance only intensifies her pressure, like a spider playing with a fly caught in its web. She pins your arms down and presses a forearm into your neck.
"You can't move, can't you? Or breathe. I really can't help myself, Scarlett. You're looking so fucking delicious right now and I just have to...I just have to..."
You make a loud choking noise as the bone in her forearm crushes your windpipe, and you close your eyes in frustration and go limp as you accept the invetiable.
"I just have to...finally...have you for my dinner..."
Puma presses down on your neck so fiercely your windpipe collapses, and the last air in your lungs escapes like air of a balloon, leaving you flat and weightless underneath your conquerer's muscular frame.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
"I...can't believe she just didn't use the item to save her life." Jenna says, walking over to your body, a vacant stare in her eyes. "Even then, she could've at least taken a better position to defend herself. I don't understand what she was thinking."
Puma finishes packing your portioned, carved body into plastic, vaccum sealing your flesh and placing it under dry ice, ready to ship back to Dolcett.
"Ticket, please."
Jenna steps forward and hands Puma her airfare from off the printer that is now hers.
"We will not meet again. If we do, it will be at the expense of your life. Do you understand?"
"Yes. I'd prefer it this way."
"Don't you mean we?"
Puma stands and stares at Jenna, letting the uncomfortable silence linger for a while.
Puma Catori leaves North Carolina for the final time. Her mind has already begun planning the many meals she will consume from your flesh, discarding the places she'd reserved in her mind for your training.
"Her training was a waste." Puma mutters. "But her flesh won't be."
[[Checkpoint: Restart Tutorial ->Tutorial Literal]]Puma dives forward and gracefully throws a sweeping kick at your feet, but you leap away in time to dodge the knockdown. Just as your feet are about to touch the ground, she lunges at your chest to take you down, but you're able to pivot on your toes and circle around her. Just as you pin one of her arms behind her back, she elbows you in the jaw with the other and follows up with a spinning backfist that sends you tumbling to the ground.
You slide backward as she approaches, then swing your legs around to regain your footing and defend yourself. She slows her approach.
"Well, you were able to anticipate my attack by making the correct 50/50 choice, which I'm rather impressed by. Sometimes, you'll just have to be lucky if you don't have the right item. But you did have the right item and chose not to use it. Maybe you just prefer to live dangerously?"
You smile and wipe away a bit of blood dripping from your nose.
"I survived. That's what matters. "I think that's enough training for today, Puma. I'm ready."
Puma smiles and begins to approach you once more, but her step this time is more of a saunter than an advance to continue your skirmish.
"There is one more challenge you will face in Dolcett, one that you know all too well."
She steps directly against you, deeply into your personal space, and breathes on your neck.
"You still think about it, don't you? How I had you hung by your ankles, just after I tasted your pussy, and made you cum all over my face..."
Puma slides her hand down your stomach and presses it over your crotch, the pressure inwards against your pants causing an instant rush of pleasure between your legs. A soft, warm breath escapes your lips as you feel your face flush.
Puma smiles as she continues.
"I know how much that deep down; you STILL fantasize about being eaten. Don't deny it. Don't deny yourself..."
You try to say something but you only moan as Puma begins to rub circles over your clit while her other hand traces up your body and against your breast.
"I...um...uh..." you say, as you press your hips eagerly into Puma's hand.
"Scarlett..." Jenna says, as she watches on with a concerned, but curious look.
"This type of challenge is called a MINDBREAK - a moment where you become so overwhelmed with sexual desire that you can't keep your head on straight, right when someone is planning on cutting it off. If you face a Mindbreak, you'll suddenly see a giant wall of text, a smorgasbord of lustful feelings that are overwhelming you in the moment. In that mess of words, in that mess of your mind, there will be one selection, one gasp of hope that you'll have to find to pass through and survive. If you choose incorrectly, you'll become so overwhelmed in lust that you'll lose yourself, accept your fate, and be at the mercy of whoever is with you to claim you as their next meal.
"I can...resist...I don't...want...to...be..." you stammer out as your words match the pace of Puma's rubbing, and not the pace of your own mind.
"Mindbreaks are also timed - so if you do not make a selection within a set time limit, the passage will automatically advance to your opponent’s next move – and I promise it will be serving YOU for their dinner. How you enter a Mindbreak also matters – choosing a level headed prompt offers you more time, choosing a lustful prompt offers less. But, the tradeoff for a more dangerous mindbreak could be earning a valuable item for a future decision - so in this story, the choice is truly yours."
Puma slides her hand up and over your belly button and down your pants, her fingers now pressing directly against your outer lips. Just as she does, she wraps her other hand around the front of your neck, squeezing your windpipe closed.
"For this last challenge, we are playing for real. I'm going to squeeze the life out of you right now take you back to the Sleeping Willow forest and have you for dinner, just like I was meant to five years ago. Unless, that is...there is enough of yourself left to stop me."
[[You don't feel too aroused. You'll have forty seconds to break free of her grip. ->Tutorial Mindbreak]]
[[You're feeling VERY aroused. You'll have only eighteen seconds before she strangles you. ->Tutorial Mindbreak Short]]Puma takes a step toward you, and then another, and you watch as she shifts her weight onto her right foot before using it as a launching pad to lunge in Jenna's direction. Jenna gasps, and you respond immediately, dashing not in front of her but behind Puma, giving yourself an opportunity to grip her by the waist and swing her around to the ground.
As you do, Puma manages to land a glancing blow on Jenna's chin, knocking her glasses to the ground. Jenna falls to one knee, and you walk over to comfort her while looking back at Puma, a fury building within you.
"Jenna, are you OK?" you say as you kneel down.
"Yes, it's OK, really. You honestly did—"
"...the right thing," Puma finishes. "You have to keep your head on straight to survive in Dolcett. There are going to be situations that are too dangerous to try to be a hero, but you also can't lose sight of why you've done this work for so long."
"I won't lose myself. I haven't sat behind this desk and signed off on so many..."
A vacant look crosses your face for just a second.
"...so many... conversions of so many women if I didn't believe what I was doing was right. That doesn't mean I sign off on every one or that I don't think deeply about the ones I do. It just means that I realize my role is both important and limited. That is the nature of being human."
"Yes, your moral compass has guided you for many years. But it is just one of many tools you may encounter in Dolcett. In this story, you'll also occasionally be rewarded with an item for completing a successful string of challenges or for finding and completing a rare passage. If you obtain an item, you'll have an opportunity to use it at one specific passage later in the story. If you choose not to use it at that specific moment, it will be wasted. Also, whenever you use an item, you will always advance in the story, as it has a guaranteed success rate.
"If you do not have the item, you will not see that choice, and you will be left to determine the path forward using the previous methods. If you're faced with a choice you cannot solve and have to guess, it is likely because you missed an item earlier that would have given you the solution."
"Got it. Actually, now that you mention it, I am carrying something from my apartment that I grabbed after a strange dream I had."
"Good. Let's see if you can use it now to help block my next attack."
[[Prepare yourself to guard against a striking attack. ->Tutorial Item Good MB]]
[[Prepare yourself to guard against a grappling attack.->Tutorial Item Bad MB]]
[if hasAItem]
[[Item Choice: Pull the lanyard off of your neck and hold it in your hand. You can use it to restrain Puma. ->Tutorial Lanyard]]
[if hasBItem]
[[Item Choice: Slide your hand into your pocket and grip your car keys. You can use them as a weapon. ->Tutorial Keys]]
[if hasCItem]
[[Item Choice: Let your left hand wander towards your back pocket. The towel is just hanging out. ->Tutorial Towel]]
[if hasDItem]
[[Item Choice: The metal water bottle you brought in is just within reach. Grab it after you've evaded Puma's attack. ->Tutorial Bottle]]Puma dives forward and gracefully throws a sweeping kick at your feet, but you leap in time to dodge the knockdown. Just as your feet are about to land, she lunges at your chest to take you to the ground, but you're able to spin around on your toes and circle around her. You grab one wrist and hold your key to it, pressing in.
Puma throws an elbow back but you duck, squeezing the edge of the key in further.
"I think that's enough training for today, Puma. I'm ready." you say, pushing her off.
Puma smiles and begins to approach you once more, but her step this time is more of a saunter than an advance to continue your skirmish.
Puma smiles and begins to approach you once more, but her step this time is more of a saunter than an advance to continue your skirmish.
"There is one more challenge you will face in Dolcett, one that you know all too well."
She steps directly against you, deeply into your personal space, and breathes on your neck.
"You still think about it, don't you? How I had you hung by your ankles, just after I tasted your pussy, and made you cum all over my face..."
Puma slides her hand down your stomach and presses it over your crotch, the pressure inwards against your pants causing an instant rush of pleasure between your legs. A soft, warm breath escapes your lips as you feel your face flush.
Puma smiles as she continues.
"I know how much that deep down; you STILL fantasize about being eaten. Don't deny it. Don't deny yourself..."
You try to say something but you only moan as Puma begins to rub circles over your clit while her other hand traces up your body and against your breast.
"I...um...uh..." you say, as you press your hips eagerly into Puma's hand.
"Scarlett..." Jenna says, as she watches on with a concerned, but curious look.
"This type of challenge is called a MINDBREAK - a moment where you become so overwhelmed with sexual desire that you can't keep your head on straight, right when someone is planning on cutting it off. If you face a Mindbreak, you'll suddenly see a giant wall of text, a smorgasbord of lustful feelings that are overwhelming you in the moment. In that mess of words, in that mess of your mind, there will be one selection, one gasp of hope that you'll have to find to pass through and survive. If you choose incorrectly, you'll become so overwhelmed in lust that you'll lose yourself, accept your fate, and be at the mercy of whoever is with you to claim you as their next meal.
"I can...resist...I don't...want...to...be..." you stammer out as your words match the pace of Puma's rubbing, and not the pace of your own mind.
"Mindbreaks are also timed - so if you do not make a selection within a set time limit, the passage will automatically advance to your opponent’s next move – and I promise it will be serving YOU for their dinner. How you enter a Mindbreak also matters – choosing a level headed prompt offers you more time, choosing a lustful prompt offers less. But, the tradeoff for a more dangerous mindbreak could be earning a valuable item for a future decision - so in this story, the choice is truly yours."
Puma slides her hand up and over your belly button and down your pants, her fingers now pressing directly against your outer lips. Just as she does, she wraps her other hand around the front of your neck, squeezing your windpipe closed.
"For this last challenge, we are playing for real. I'm going to squeeze the life out of you right now take you back to the Sleeping Willow forest and have you for dinner, just like I was meant to five years ago. Unless, that is...there is enough of yourself left to stop me."
[[You don't feel too aroused. You'll have forty seconds to break free of her grip. ->Tutorial Mindbreak]]
[[You're feeling VERY aroused. You'll have only eighteen seconds before she strangles you. ->Tutorial Mindbreak Short]]Puma dives forward and gracefully throws a sweeping kick at your feet, but you leap in time to dodge the knockdown. Just as your feet are about to land, she lunges at your chest to take you to the ground, but you're able to spin around on your toes and circle around her. You grab one wrist and tie it up in your work lanyard, and then, the other.
Puma struggles to break through the bind as you wrap your arm around her neck.
"I think that's enough training for today, Puma. I'm ready." you say, pushing her off.
Puma discards your ID and smiles as she approaches you once more, but her step this time is more of a saunter than an advance to continue your skirmish.
"There is one more challenge you will face in Dolcett, one that you know all too well."
She steps directly against you, deeply into your personal space, and breathes on your neck.
"You still think about it, don't you? How I had you hung by your ankles, just after I tasted your pussy, and made you cum all over my face..."
Puma slides her hand down your stomach and presses it over your crotch, the pressure inwards against your pants causing an instant rush of pleasure between your legs. A soft, warm breath escapes your lips as you feel your face flush.
Puma smiles as she continues.
"I know how much that deep down; you STILL fantasize about being eaten. Don't deny it. Don't deny yourself..."
You try to say something but you only moan as Puma begins to rub circles over your clit while her other hand traces up your body and against your breast.
"I...um...uh..." you say, as you press your hips eagerly into Puma's hand.
"Scarlett..." Jenna says, as she watches on with a concerned, but curious look.
"This type of challenge is called a MINDBREAK - a moment where you become so overwhelmed with sexual desire that you can't keep your head on straight, right when someone is planning on cutting it off. If you face a Mindbreak, you'll suddenly see a giant wall of text, a smorgasbord of lustful feelings that are overwhelming you in the moment. In that mess of words, in that mess of your mind, there will be one selection, one gasp of hope that you'll have to find to pass through and survive. If you choose incorrectly, you'll become so overwhelmed in lust that you'll lose yourself, accept your fate, and be at the mercy of whoever is with you to claim you as their next meal.
"I can...resist...I don't...want...to...be..." you stammer out as your words match the pace of Puma's rubbing, and not the pace of your own mind.
"Mindbreaks are also timed - so if you do not make a selection within a set time limit, the passage will automatically advance to your opponent’s next move – and I promise it will be serving YOU for their dinner. How you enter a Mindbreak also matters – choosing a level headed prompt offers you more time, choosing a lustful prompt offers less. Also - choosing the correct mindbreak could earn you a valuable item for a future decision - so choose carefully."
Puma slides her hand up and over your belly button and down your pants, her fingers now pressing directly against your outer lips. Just as she does, she wraps her other hand around the front of your neck, squeezing your windpipe closed.
"For this last challenge, we are playing for real. I'm going to squeeze the life out of you right now take you back to the Sleeping Willow forest and have you for dinner, just like I was meant to five years ago. Unless, that is...there is enough of yourself left to stop me."
[[You don't feel too aroused. You'll have forty seconds to break free of her grip. ->Tutorial Mindbreak]]
[[You're feeling VERY aroused. You'll have only eighteen seconds before she strangles you. ->Tutorial Mindbreak Short]]“You know what? You’re right. I could use a refresher,” you say as you stand up and meet Puma in the center of the office, raising your fists. “It will be your training that keeps me safe in Dolcett this time—I won’t leave anything to chance.”
You begin to circle in an aggressive stance, a combination of kickboxing and judo flashing through your movements as Puma mirrors you and looks for an opening.
“Fortune kept you alive in your first encounter in Dolcett—your people call it beginner’s luck. But you can’t rely on it a second time.”
Puma steps forward to feign a kick, to which you raise a forearm to block, your body moving on instinct.
“You’re right…” you say as you continue to study her body for clues. “I didn’t know anything about the customs, people, or their ways. But I’ve learned a lot in the last five years; I’m more experienced and better prepared.”
“That’s right. It’s through this training—how you’re able to see our world and interpret it—that you’ll stay alive,” Puma says. “Dolcett is a place where choices have consequences. Every choice you make in this story will have the highest stakes - you will either live and move on, or you will be killed and eaten, potentially as a steak dinner. It really is that simple.”
Puma stops walking, and you stop as well, staring silently at each other. She raises both fists.
“Speaking of, let’s start with the very basics. The most important thing about combat and survival in this world is not to overthink it. Sometimes, the answer that will keep you alive is obvious. It’s straightforward. You just have to read the text in front of you and not walk directly into danger.
“Let’s see if you can follow that. I’m going to throw a punch. It’s going to be with my left hand. You should block my left hand; otherwise, it’s going to hurt.”
[[Defend her right hand. ->Punched]]
[[Defend her left hand. ->Tutorial Deduction]]There's something about this situation that's just too fucking hot for you to get control back of your senses. It's the heat of Puma's breath on your neck, the way her palm is edging your clit with firm circles, and the fingers sliding inside your moist, wet pussy. But really, it's the memory of the unbelievably hot day when she nearly snuffed you in the forest that drives you absolutely wild to the point that you can't just think.
You remember what it was like, concussed, dizzy, hanging upside down by an ankle and having absolutely accepted that while you fought bravely, you would end up this exotic woman's dinner. You go back to that place and realize that you never left, that you've deep down always wanted to be eaten by her, and that anything else was just an effort to distract yourself from the inevitable.
Your eyes roll back in your head and your arms fall lip just as you begin to black out, the grip on her hand intensifying, like she too is lost in this moment of lust and carnal desire. Her hands crush what remaining oxygen remains in your windpipe and you make a gurgling sound as an orgasm rushes through your body just as life leaves it.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Puma lustful smile fades into disappointment as she returns to reality, and she releases your throat to let your limp body crumple to the floor. Jenna audibly gasps as your head rolls over and your lifeless eyes stare back. Puma kneels down and shakes her head.
"Five years of waiting. Five years of training you. Five years of preparing for our ultimate moment just to get snuffed in a tutorial." Puma says, the frustration not at all hidden on her voice.
Over twenty four hours later, Puma Catori sets up camp just outside her cabin home in the Sleeping Willow forest, underneath the tree she calls Kal’Kanok. She builds a fire and sets a t-bone, well, Scarlett-bone steak over a grill plate to cook.
She listens for the forest to call to her, but it is silent. She shrugs. A guilt washes over her as she lowers her head.
Despite all her efforts, she failed to train you to be a true warrior. At the end of the day, you succumbed to your lust, a primal desire that not even self-preservation could stave off.
As er eyes wander up to the with the flame, she allows herself to use it as a point of meditation. Soon, the fire dancing over your flesh will have you to temperature, and she will consume you, linking the two of you together, forever.
****************************
[[Checkpoint: Mindbreak Tutorial ->Tutorial MB Setup Clean]]"I think that's enough training for today, Puma. I'm ready."
Puma smiles and begins to approach you once more, but her step this time is more of a saunter than an advance to continue your skirmish.
"There is one more challenge you will face in Dolcett, one that you know all too well."
She steps directly against you, deeply into your personal space, and breathes on your neck.
"You still think about it, don't you? How I had you hung by your ankles, just after I tasted your pussy, and made you cum all over my face..."
Puma slides her hand down your stomach and presses it over your crotch, the pressure inwards against your pants causing an instant rush of pleasure between your legs. A soft, warm breath escapes your lips as you feel your face flush.
Puma smiles as she continues.
"I know how much that deep down; you STILL fantasize about being eaten. Don't deny it. Don't deny yourself..."
You try to say something but you only moan as Puma begins to rub circles over your clit while her other hand traces up your body and against your breast.
"I...um...uh..." you say, as you press your hips eagerly into Puma's hand.
"Scarlett..." Jenna says, as she watches on with a concerned, but curious look.
"This type of challenge is called a MINDBREAK - a moment where you become so overwhelmed with sexual desire that you can't keep your head on straight, right when someone is planning on cutting it off. If you face a Mindbreak, you'll suddenly see a giant wall of text, a smorgasbord of lustful feelings that are overwhelming you in the moment. In that mess of words, in that mess of your mind, there will be one selection, one gasp of hope that you'll have to find to pass through and survive. If you choose incorrectly, you'll become so overwhelmed in lust that you'll lose yourself, accept your fate, and be at the mercy of whoever is with you to claim you as their next meal.
"I can...resist...I don't...want...to...be..." you stammer out as your words match the pace of Puma's rubbing, and not the pace of your own mind.
"Mindbreaks are also timed - so if you do not make a selection within a set time limit, the passage will automatically advance to your opponent’s next move – and I promise it will be serving YOU for their dinner. How you enter a Mindbreak also matters – choosing a level headed prompt offers you more time, choosing a lustful prompt offers less. But, the tradeoff for a more dangerous mindbreak could be earning a valuable item for a future decision - so in this story, the choice is truly yours."
Puma slides her hand up and over your belly button and down your pants, her fingers now pressing directly against your outer lips. Just as she does, she wraps her other hand around the front of your neck, squeezing your windpipe closed.
"For this last challenge, we are playing for real. I'm going to squeeze the life out of you right now take you back to the Sleeping Willow forest and have you for dinner, just like I was meant to five years ago. Unless, that is...there is enough of yourself left to stop me."
[[You don't feel too aroused. You'll have forty seconds to break free of her grip. ->Tutorial Mindbreak]]
[[You're feeling VERY aroused. You'll have only eighteen seconds before she strangles you. ->Tutorial Mindbreak Short]]MINDBREAK
[[OMG PUMA->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[YOU'RE RIGHT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[YOU'RE SO RIGHT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[ I THINK ABOUT IT EVERY DAY->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[I WANT IT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[I WANT TO BE EATEN BY YOU->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[I WANT TO FEEL YOU CUT ME OPEN->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND SLIDE MY GUTS OUT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND CHOP ME UP->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND EAT ME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[GOSH EAT ME IN THE FOREST->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[PUMA EAT EVERY LAST BIT OF ME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND I DONT HAVE TO BE IN CHARGE ANY MORE->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[IM JUST DINNER->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[CONSUMED AND DELICIOUS->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND DIGESTED->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND PLEASE EAT ME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[JUST I DONT WANT TO FIGHT BACK->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[JUST EAT ME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[JUST EAT ME RIGHT UP->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND LICK YOUR LIPS AFTER->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND LET MY DIGEST IN YOUR STOMACH->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[NO MORE CEO->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[JUST SUPPER->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[JUST ON A PLATE->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[COOKED SLOWLY->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[IN A NICE CAST IRON POT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[IN THE FOREST->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[OR OVER AN OPEN FUCKING FLAME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[SIMMERED AND SERVED->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND DINNER AND YUM AND->Tutorial Lunch]] -[[OMG I HAVE TO SAVE ZOE->End Tutorial]]-[[AND DELICIOUS SMOKED MEATS ->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[ AND KEEP ME AS A TROPHY->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND MAKE ME INTO STOCK->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[LIKE ALL YOUR OTHER WOMEN->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[SIP MY BROTH EVEN WHEN IM GONE->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AS YOUVE EATEN EVERY LAST BIT OF ME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[UP GOSH I WANT IT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[IM NOT GOING TO RESIST->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[OMG PUMA->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[YOU'RE RIGHT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[YOU'RE SO RIGHT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[ I THINK ABOUT IT EVERY DAY->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[I WANT IT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[I WANT TO BE EATEN BY YOU->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[I WANT TO FEEL YOU CUT ME OPEN->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND SLIDE MY GUTS OUT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND CHOP ME UP->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND EAT ME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[GOSH EAT ME IN THE FOREST->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[PUMA EAT EVERY LAST BIT OF ME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND I DONT HAVE TO BE IN CHARGE ANY MORE->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[IM JUST DINNER->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[CONSUMED AND DELICIOUS->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND DIGESTED->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND PLEASE EAT ME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[JUST I DONT WANT TO FIGHT BACK->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[JUST EAT ME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[JUST EAT ME RIGHT UP->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND LICK YOUR LIPS AFTER->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND LET MY DIGEST IN YOUR STOMACH->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[NO MORE CEO->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[JUST SUPPER->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[JUST ON A PLATE->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[COOKED SLOWLY->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[IN A NICE CAST IRON POT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[IN THE FOREST->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[OR OVER AN OPEN FUCKING FLAME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[SIMMERED AND SERVED->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND DINNER AND YUM AND->Tutorial Lunch]] -[[OMG I HAVE TO SAVE ZOE->End Tutorial]]-[[AND DELICIOUS SMOKED MEATS ->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[ AND KEEP ME AS A TROPHY->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND MAKE ME INTO STOCK->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[LIKE ALL YOUR OTHER WOMEN->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[SIP MY BROTH EVEN WHEN IM GONE->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AS YOUVE EATEN EVERY LAST BIT OF ME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[UP GOSH I WANT IT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[IM NOT GOING TO RESIST->Tutorial Lunch]]
[javascript]
const old = passage.name;
setTimeout(() => {
if (old === passage.name) go("Tutorial Lunch");
}, 40_000);MINDBREAK
[[OMG PUMA->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[YOU'RE RIGHT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[YOU'RE SO RIGHT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[ I THINK ABOUT IT EVERY DAY->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[I WANT IT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[I WANT TO BE EATEN BY YOU->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[I WANT TO FEEL YOU CUT ME OPEN->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND SLIDE MY GUTS OUT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND CHOP ME UP->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND EAT ME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[GOSH EAT ME IN THE FOREST->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[PUMA EAT EVERY LAST BIT OF ME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND I DONT HAVE TO BE IN CHARGE ANY MORE->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[IM JUST DINNER->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[CONSUMED AND DELICIOUS->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND DIGESTED->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND PLEASE EAT ME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[JUST I DONT WANT TO FIGHT BACK->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[JUST EAT ME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[JUST EAT ME RIGHT UP->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND LICK YOUR LIPS AFTER->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND LET MY DIGEST IN YOUR STOMACH->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[NO MORE CEO->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[JUST SUPPER->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[JUST ON A PLATE->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[COOKED SLOWLY->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[IN A NICE CAST IRON POT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[IN THE FOREST->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[OR OVER AN OPEN FUCKING FLAME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[SIMMERED AND SERVED->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND DINNER AND YUM AND->Tutorial Lunch]] -[[OMG I HAVE TO SAVE ZOE->End Tutorial]]-[[AND DELICIOUS SMOKED MEATS ->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[ AND KEEP ME AS A TROPHY->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND MAKE ME INTO STOCK->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[LIKE ALL YOUR OTHER WOMEN->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[SIP MY BROTH EVEN WHEN IM GONE->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AS YOUVE EATEN EVERY LAST BIT OF ME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[UP GOSH I WANT IT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[IM NOT GOING TO RESIST->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[OMG PUMA->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[YOU'RE RIGHT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[YOU'RE SO RIGHT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[ I THINK ABOUT IT EVERY DAY->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[I WANT IT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[I WANT TO BE EATEN BY YOU->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[I WANT TO FEEL YOU CUT ME OPEN->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND SLIDE MY GUTS OUT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND CHOP ME UP->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND EAT ME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[GOSH EAT ME IN THE FOREST->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[PUMA EAT EVERY LAST BIT OF ME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND I DONT HAVE TO BE IN CHARGE ANY MORE->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[IM JUST DINNER->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[CONSUMED AND DELICIOUS->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND DIGESTED->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND PLEASE EAT ME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[JUST I DONT WANT TO FIGHT BACK->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[JUST EAT ME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[JUST EAT ME RIGHT UP->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND LICK YOUR LIPS AFTER->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND LET MY DIGEST IN YOUR STOMACH->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[NO MORE CEO->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[JUST SUPPER->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[JUST ON A PLATE->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[COOKED SLOWLY->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[IN A NICE CAST IRON POT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[IN THE FOREST->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[OR OVER AN OPEN FUCKING FLAME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[SIMMERED AND SERVED->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND DINNER AND YUM AND->Tutorial Lunch]] -[[OMG I HAVE TO SAVE ZOE->End Tutorial]]-[[AND DELICIOUS SMOKED MEATS ->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[ AND KEEP ME AS A TROPHY->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AND MAKE ME INTO STOCK->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[LIKE ALL YOUR OTHER WOMEN->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[SIP MY BROTH EVEN WHEN IM GONE->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[AS YOUVE EATEN EVERY LAST BIT OF ME->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[UP GOSH I WANT IT->Tutorial Lunch]]-[[IM NOT GOING TO RESIST->Tutorial Lunch]]
[javascript]
const old = passage.name;
setTimeout(() => {
if (old === passage.name) go("Tutorial Lunch");
}, 18_000);MINDBREAK
OMG OMG OMG OMG THIS IS SO HOT AN OVEN ROAST JUST LIKE CHARLENE ALWAYS WANT NO WHAT I ALWAYS WANTED I BET ID TASTE SO GOOD AND BE SO DELICIOUS AND GOSH THEYD JUST PICK MY BONES CLEAN AND ID BE LEFTOVERS AND THEN BOILED AND BROKEN DOWN AND OMG PLEASE JUST GIVE IN PLEASE JUST LET IT HAPPEN PLEASE DONT FIND IT PLEASE LET ME OUT PLEASE LET ME ROAST AND COOK AND FEEL THE HEAT SAP MY STRENGTH AND EXISTANCE AWAY AND GOSH A DINNER PARTY PLATTER AND NO MORE STRESS JUST DINNER FOR TWELVE PLEASE DONT FIGHT IT FIGHT IT FIGHT IT AND BECOME DELICIOUS AND TENDER AND TIGHT AND ROASTED AND MMMMMM MMMMM GOOD OMG OMG OMG OMG THIS IS SO HOT AN OVEN ROAST JUST LIKE CHARLENE ALWAYS WANT NO WHAT I ALWAYS WANTED I BET ID TASTE SO GOOD AND BE SO DELICIOUS AND GOSH THEYD JUST PICK MY BONES CLEAN AND ID BE LEFTOVERS AND THEN BOILED AND BROKEN DOWN AND OMG PLEASE JUST GIVE IN PLEASE JUST LET IT HAPPEN PLEASE DONT FIND IT PLEASE LET ME OUT PLEASE LET ME ROAST AND COOK AND FEEL THE HEAT SAP MY STRENGTH AND EXISTANCE AWAY AND GOSH A DINNER PARTY PLATTER AND NO MORE STRESS JUST DINNER FOR TWELVE PLEASE DONT FIGHT IT FIGHT IT FIGHT IT AND BECOME DELICIOUS AND TENDER AND TIGHT AND ROASTED AND MMMMMM MMMMM GOOD OMG OMG OMG OMG THIS IS SO HOT AN OVEN ROAST JUST LIKE CHARLENE ALWAYS WANT NO WHAT I ALWAYS WANTED I BET ID TASTE SO GOOD AND BE SO DELICIOUS AND GOSH THEYD JUST PICK MY BONES CLEAN AND ID BE LEFTOVERS AND THEN BOILED AND BROKEN DOWN AND OMG PLEASE JUST GIVE IN PLEASE JUST LET IT HAPPEN PLEASE DONT FIND IT PLEASE LET ME OUT PLEASE LET ME ROAST AND COOK AND FEEL THE HEAT SAP MY STRENGTH AND EXISTANCE AWAY AND GOSH A DINNER PARTY PLATTER AND NO MORE STRESS JUST DINNER FOR TWELVE PLEASE DONT FIGHT IT FIGHT IT FIGHT IT AND BECOME DELICIOUS AND TENDER AND TIGHT AND ROASTED AND MMMMMM MMMMM GOOD OMG OMG OMG OMG THIS IS SO HOT AN OVEN ROAST JUST LIKE CHARLENE ALWAYS WANT NO WHAT I ALWAYS WANTED I BET ID TASTE SO GOOD AND BE SO DELICIOUS AND GOSH THEYD JUST PICK MY BONES CLEAN AND ID BE LEFTOVERS AND THEN BOILED AND BROKEN DOWN AND OMG PLEASE JUST GIVE IN PLEASE JUST LET IT HAPPEN PLEASE DONT FIND IT PLEASE LET ME OUT PLEASE LET ME ROAST AND COOK AND FEEL THE HEAT SAP MY STRENGTH AND EXISTANCE AWAY AND GOSH A DINNER PARTY PLATTER AND NO MORE STRESS JUST DINNER FOR TWELVE PLEASE DONT FIGHT IT FIGHT IT FIGHT IT AND BECOME DELICIOUS AND TENDER AND TIGHT AND ROASTED AND MMMMMM MMMMM GOOD OMG OMG OMG OMG THIS IS SO HOT AN OVEN ROAST JUST LIKE CHARLENE ALWAYS WANT NO WHAT I ALWAYS WANTED I BET ID TASTE SO GOOD AND BE SO DELICIOUS AND GOSH THEYD JUST PICK MY BONES CLEAN AND ID BE LEFTOVERS AND THEN BOILED AND BROKEN DOWN AND OMG PLEASE JUST GIVE IN PLEASE JUST LET IT HAPPEN PLEASE DONT FIND IT PLEASE LET ME OUT PLEASE LET ME ROAST AND COOK AND FEEL THE HEAT SAP MY STRENGTH AND EXISTANCE AWAY AND GOSH A DINNER PARTY PLATTER AND NO MORE STRESS JUST DINNER FOR TWELVE PLEASE DONT FIGHT IT FIGHT IT FIGHT IT AND BECOME DELICIOUS AND TENDER AND TIGHT AND ROASTED AND MMMMMM MMMMM GOODPuma lifts her left leg for an attack, but you don't bite on the fake and catch her right leg just as it's about to make impact with your ribs, stopping any noticeable impact.
"Very good. I'm hoping you were reading carefully and weren't just lucky. You probably picked up that the word 'right' was repeated six times in the last passage. I also use the word 'correct' as a synonym to further hint that that would be the 'right' course of action."
"I won't get snuffed easily; there's no way I'd not notice a pattern happening right in front of me," you respond.
Puma smiles and begins to bounce on her feet as she looks ready to pounce on you.
"Now, some choices may rely on your memory and recollection of earlier parts of your adventure to survive. So, being a thoughtful reader can also keep you a living reader. Let's see how much you were paying attention earlier."
Puma looks over to your second-in-command, puts one finger to her lips, and whispers, "Ssssh."
"What is the name of the girl you're going to save?"
[[A) Jenna ->Tossed to ground]]
[[B) Zoe->Tutorial Theme]]
[[C) Lily->Tossed to ground]]
[[D) Chloe->Tossed to ground]]Puma dives forward and gracefully throws a sweeping kick at your feet, but you leap in time to dodge the knockdown. Just as your feet are about to land, she lunges at your chest to take you to the ground, but you're able to spin around on your toes and circle around her. You grab one wrist and tie it up in the necklace, and then, the other.
Puma struggles to break the gold chain as you wrap your arm around her neck.
"I think that's enough training for today, Puma. I'm ready."
Puma smiles and begins to approach you once more, but her step this time is more of a saunter than an advance to continue your skirmish.
"There is one more challenge you will face in Dolcett, one that you know all too well."
She steps directly against you, deeply into your personal space, and breathes on your neck.
"You still think about it, don't you? How I had you hung by your ankles, just after I tasted your pussy, and made you cum all over my face..."
Puma slides her hand down your stomach and presses it over your crotch, the pressure inwards against your pants causing an instant rush of pleasure between your legs. A soft, warm breath escapes your lips as you feel your face flush.
Puma smiles as she continues.
"I know how much that deep down; you STILL fantasize about being eaten. Don't deny it. Don't deny yourself..."
You try to say something but you only moan as Puma begins to rub circles over your clit while her other hand traces up your body and against your breast.
"I...um...uh..." you say, as you press your hips eagerly into Puma's hand.
"Scarlett..." Jenna says, as she watches on with a concerned, but curious look.
"This type of challenge is called a MINDBREAK - a moment where you become so overwhelmed with sexual desire that you can't keep your head on straight, right when someone is planning on cutting it off. If you face a Mindbreak, you'll suddenly see a giant wall of text, a smorgasbord of lustful feelings that are overwhelming you in the moment. In that mess of words, in that mess of your mind, there will be one selection, one gasp of hope that you'll have to find to pass through and survive. If you choose incorrectly, you'll become so overwhelmed in lust that you'll lose yourself, accept your fate, and be at the mercy of whoever is with you to claim you as their next meal.
"I can...resist...I don't...want...to...be..." you stammer out as your words match the pace of Puma's rubbing, and not the pace of your own mind.
"Mindbreaks are also timed - so if you do not make a selection within a set time limit, the passage will automatically advance to your opponent’s next move – and I promise it will be serving you for dinner. How you enter a Mindbreak also matters – choosing a level headed prompt offers you more time, choosing a lustful prompt offers less.
Puma slides her hand up and over your belly button and down your pants, her fingers now pressing directly against your outer lips. Just as she does, she wraps her other hand around the front of your neck, squeezing your windpipe closed.
"For this last challenge, we are playing for real. I'm going to squeeze the life out of you right now and I'm going to take you back to the Sleeping Willow forest and have you for dinner, just like I was meant to five years ago. Unless, that is...there is enough of yourself left to stop me."Puma's feet dance like a boxer's before she suddenly leaps forward and slides her left hip under yours, ready to throw you over her shoulder and onto the ground. Just as her arm wraps over your head to secure her position, you lower your center of gravity and shove her off you. Puma stumbles for a moment before spinning on her heel to face you once more.
"That's it. Very good, Q'lanar..." Puma growls. "Never overexpose yourself. If you launch an attack that leaves you defenseless, it will be your undoing."
"You've called me that before, but you've never told me what it means," you say back.
A grin appears on Puma's face as her excitement clearly grows.
"...This adventure isn't meant to be a memory test full of obscure facts that you wouldn't otherwise pay attention to. If you face a challenge that involves your memory, it should be something obvious—or at least something you SHOULD obviously remember once it comes up."
"I'm not going to forget anything important. I can promise you that," you say confidently, feeling yourself stand taller with every trial you pass.
"Your memory will serve you well, but simple recall and close reading won't be enough to keep you from becoming something else entirely. There's another danger in traveling to such a ruthless, cutthroat place."
Puma looks over at Jenna, who looks perplexed, before stepping forward.
"It's the risk of losing yourself—not just your body and your flesh, but who you are. If you make a choice that loses sight of who you really are, then you'll face a different kind of death."
"A death of the soul," you say in a whisper.
"Let's see how well you can deduce what kind of woman you are, Scarlett," Puma says as she stretches her arms behind her back. "I'm going to really surprise you with this next move, so you'll only be able to respond on instinct. The character of who you are will show. If you are true to yourself, you'll be able to respond correctly to my next attack."
[["I'm a ruthless person who will do anything or sacrifice anyone to accomplish my goal." ->Combo Too Nice]]
[["I'm a kind and gentle person who will do whatever I need to help anyone, despite the risks it could bring upon myself." ->Combo Don't Care]]
[["I'm a practical person who cares deeply about right and wrong, but I also see the importance of restraint." ->Tutorial Items]]Puma dives forward and gracefully throws a sweeping kick at your feet, but you leap in time to dodge the knockdown. Just as your feet are about to land, she lunges at your chest to take you to the ground, but you grab the towel out of your back pocket and throw it in her face, obscuring her vision.
You're able to sidestep her attempted tackle, and as she discards the towel, you're already around her back wrapping your arm around her neck.
"I think that's enough training for today, Puma. I'm ready."you say, pushing her off.
Puma smiles and begins to approach you once more, but her step this time is more of a saunter than an advance to continue your skirmish.
"There is one more challenge you will face in Dolcett, one that you know all too well."
She steps directly against you, deeply into your personal space, and breathes on your neck.
"You still think about it, don't you? How I had you hung by your ankles, just after I tasted your pussy, and made you cum all over my face..."
Puma slides her hand down your stomach and presses it over your crotch, the pressure inwards against your pants causing an instant rush of pleasure between your legs. A soft, warm breath escapes your lips as you feel your face flush.
Puma smiles as she continues.
"I know how much that deep down; you STILL fantasize about being eaten. Don't deny it. Don't deny yourself..."
You try to say something but you only moan as Puma begins to rub circles over your clit while her other hand traces up your body and against your breast.
"I...um...uh..." you say, as you press your hips eagerly into Puma's hand.
"Scarlett..." Jenna says, as she watches on with a concerned, but curious look.
"This type of challenge is called a MINDBREAK - a moment where you become so overwhelmed with sexual desire that you can't keep your head on straight, right when someone is planning on cutting it off. If you face a Mindbreak, you'll suddenly see a giant wall of text, a smorgasbord of lustful feelings that are overwhelming you in the moment. In that mess of words, in that mess of your mind, there will be one selection, one gasp of hope that you'll have to find to pass through and survive. If you choose incorrectly, you'll become so overwhelmed in lust that you'll lose yourself, accept your fate, and be at the mercy of whoever is with you to claim you as their next meal.
"I can...resist...I don't...want...to...be..." you stammer out as your words match the pace of Puma's rubbing, and not the pace of your own mind.
"Mindbreaks are also timed - so if you do not make a selection within a set time limit, the passage will automatically advance to your opponent’s next move – and I promise it will be serving YOU for their dinner. How you enter a Mindbreak also matters – choosing a level headed prompt offers you more time, choosing a lustful prompt offers less. But, the tradeoff for a more dangerous mindbreak could be earning a valuable item for a future decision - so in this story, the choice is truly yours."
Puma slides her hand up and over your belly button and down your pants, her fingers now pressing directly against your outer lips. Just as she does, she wraps her other hand around the front of your neck, squeezing your windpipe closed.
"For this last challenge, we are playing for real. I'm going to squeeze the life out of you right now take you back to the Sleeping Willow forest and have you for dinner, just like I was meant to five years ago. Unless, that is...there is enough of yourself left to stop me."
[[You don't feel too aroused. You'll have forty seconds to break free of her grip. ->Tutorial Mindbreak]]
[[You're feeling VERY aroused. You'll have only eighteen seconds before she strangles you. ->Tutorial Mindbreak Short]]The woman rushes you, and you can tell by her approach that she doesn't really have a strategy or any skill in combat. You decide not to harm her as you sidestep her lunging fist, grabbing her arm just as she passes by and using her own momentum to flip her into the air. As she spins through the air, you reach out with your other arm to brace her fall on the way down, letting her land gently as you simultaneously bar her arm. She’s secured and immobilized, but unharmed, as you press your shin gently against her neck to ensure she doesn’t make a second move.
"You don't know what it's like for us!" the woman cries out. "You don't know what it's like to spend every day trying not to make one little mistake! I bet you've never even had to think ONCE about being eaten."
"I think about it all the time," you say as you release your grip. "The difference is, you fight for your right to NOT be eaten, while I fight for a woman's right to choose to do so, as crazy as that sounds. And I do that because..."
You close your eyes.
“…I have the same cravings, too.”
“That’s why we choose to be celibate here,” Phoenix says, walking over to offer her comrade a hand. “It’s too dangerous to even tempt our lives with desire. Heck, for most, it’s too dangerous to even be with a man, even once.”
“It’s funny you mention that. I thought you were with that man when you first captured me.”
“…That man?”
“Leikr.”
The women audibly gasp, and some of them scream as they flee the room.
“If Leikr has made his intentions toward you clear, then it’s better that you stay here—help us—and forget about saving the girl.”
“How do you know about that? How did you know I was here? How does he know I’m here?”
“I think you’re asking the wrong questions. The fact that you are here has been leaked all over the dark web,” Phoenix says, taking a drag from her vape as she narrows her eyes. “You should be asking—who on your team can you really trust?”
You take a moment to think. Your “team” is only two people. But would one of them really betray you? And if so, why?
You decide now isn’t the time to resolve that.
“I came here to save Zoe Sanders. Whether it’s known that I am here or not doesn’t change that.”
“What if I told you there’s a chance to change even more? The women here, and across this country, deserve a chance at a better life. To accomplish that—to change the course of history—I need you with me on Friday. I need the woman who can inspire hope in even the direst circumstances. I need the woman who inspired me to start this movement at my side.”
You take a deep breath, considering Phoenix’s pitch, but shake your head.
“I’m sorry,” you say, your eyes lowering. “I wish you luck with whatever you’re doing here, but I already have my role in the fate of this world. I’ll hold my end of the fight from there.”
Phoenix takes a drag from her vape as she walks closer to you, prepared to make her case.
“Have you ever stopped and thought about how a society like this maintains itself? A society that regularly serves women up as a casual weekday meal would have to produce women at a high ratio—in fact, the population here is 95% women to 5% men. Don’t you ever wonder where those women come from?”
You take a moment to consider her words. As you do, she waves a young woman over to stand next to her. She’s young, plump, barely twenty, with blue hair. She flashes the brightest smile you’ve ever seen as she waves at you, her grin pulling at the skin on her neck, which bears a vertical scar down her throat.
“This is Blueberry. I told her when we liberated her that she could choose any name she wanted, but…”
Blueberry brings a finger to her lips while her eyes wander upward in thought, and then communicates with Phoenix in sign language.
“She says she thinks Blueberry is just a cool name, and she really likes blueberries.”
Blueberry looks at you, shrugs with a smile, and nods happily.
“You see, Blueberry was bred at Bouvier Farms, 30 miles from here. She was born and raised to be slaughtered for her meat. They…”
Phoenix points to the scar on her neck.
“…they cut her vocal cords at an early age so she’d never have the chance to speak. But we, the LFD—the Ladies for Dolcett—rescued her so she could live her OWN life. She’s made her choice—to stand and fight for a better life for women here. We ALL have. And I think if you’d be willing to stand with us—the most powerful woman in America—you could really help us start a revolution.”
Blueberry nods to you as the room goes quiet. You take a moment to really think over your situation—you thought that you’d worked hard to keep unwilling women from being slaughtered, but you’ve only been able to do it from one small end. Could Phoenix really make a difference? Could she really change this world? Could you?
You feel a sense of déjà vu from your argument with Zoe the night before.
“I’m sorry, really. I just… I came here to save Zoe. She’s innocent.”
“And we’re not?” Phoenix jabs back, her words lingering on your mind.
You don’t answer.
“Alright. I won’t hold you against your will. We believe in a woman’s right to choose here—not JUST to choose how she will be cooked, or what side dishes would best pair with her flesh, or which man will put a collar around her neck for life, at least until he gets bored of her and slaughters her…” Phoenix says bitterly. “No, we believe in REAL choice. Just know that there’s more than just one woman’s life at stake here.”
You offer your hand to shake hands with Phoenix, and she pulls you in close, hugging you as her breath lingers on your neck. Blueberry rushes in to join the hug, squeezing you both hard enough that Phoenix has to press her off, Blueberry’s smile as bright as before.
“One last thing, Scarlett. Just listen carefully to what we say next, and promise me you won’t forget.”
Phoenix gestures to the women of the LFD, who gather around her to sing together.
“If you get caught up, and you’re in trouble,
you’ll always be welcome here.
We will always do whatever we can to help,
to make each and every one of us free.”
“If you change your mind, pick up a phone and dial LFD three times, with one more L at the end for good luck. You’ll just have to remember the rest.”
Phoenix walks over to a table at the center under a flickering light, a large map sprawled across it.
“Take her back topside,” Phoenix says to an aide. “Make sure she’s blindfolded and not released until you’re far away. I won’t take any chances on us being discovered before the big day. Granted, if she doesn’t change her mind, we’re all going to end up on the Dolcett Day menu Friday.”
******
[[Advance to: Tuesday Afternoon->Grocery]]As the woman charges you, you've decided you've had enough of being harassed, threatened, and talked to like meat without any response. You wait for your moment, and as the girl rushes in, you dodge her fist and land a crushing uppercut to her jaw. A snapping sound comes from her neck as she flies through the air and lands loudly on the concrete floor.
You feel good about defending yourself, convinced it will keep the other women at bay. That feeling quickly goes away as you look down and see blood pooling behind the girl's head, and her body lies lifeless beneath your feet.
"Scarlett, what the fuck were you thinking?” Phoenix says. “These girls don’t know how to fight. We've barely had enough food to survive, not to mention enough to build any muscle."
Screams echo throughout the underground as the girls become enraged at the sight of their fallen comrade. They begin to circle around you, growling at you as they advance.
"Now, wait a minute, everyone…” Phoenix says, trying to calm the situation. “Scarlett made a mistake, but she's still one of us-"
The girls begin to pounce on you one by one. Just like Phoenix said, you're able to fend them off because they're not very strong or skilled, but you can't fight off dozens of women at the same time. They're able to drag you to the ground, and they just keep beating on you, and beating on you, and beating on you.
You look for Phoenix, hoping she'll help, but she shakes her head and walks away.
"I really thought you could be a help here. But you can't come in here and kill one of us and then expect me to convince anyone that you're worth the trouble."
You're beaten nearly death on the ground. The women continue punching you until your eyes are nearly swelled shut, bones broken, and left in a bloody heap.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
As night falls, three of the four women who had dragged you into the underground carry your body up and out of the tunnels. They smuggle you through the cover of night through an alley that you faintly recognize, and then knock on a back door before running away. You can’t stand up, as your body is too shattered to do anything but tremble from the pain.
The door opens and you feel the street light darken for a moment as someone stands over you. A familiar smell enters your nose, a smell you recall from five years earlier, but you can’t place it, until you hear her voice.
“Oh my word, It’s YOU, isn’t it? It’s really you…”
You feel her drag your body inside, and you see a sign fall off your back that says “volunteer.”
As you’re dragged across the floor past a large stockpot, you recognize where you are, and what you’ll soon be. You’re back in the soup kitchen – a place you narrowly escaped five years ago after you simmered long enough that parts of you became a part of the “eternal broth” that was served as soup for the needy.
“I won’t be taking any chances with you this time, dear. You’re going in that pot, alright, but not until I’ve got you in bite sized cubes.”
You aren’t able to provide any resistance as you’re strung up over a drain. You look around to see that the soup kitchen is full tonight – men even in this world can be down on their luck and in need of a hearty meal. You see one of Betty’s assistants scoop up a pile of bones off a stainless steel table and carry off to the pot, dropping them in to crack and simmer, along with chunks of flesh.
“I don’t usually mean to hurt anyone, but that knot you gave me on my head five years ago still hurts when I sleep.”
You feel a knife jabbed into your windpipe and your body quivers as blood rushes out of your neck.
“It’s time you finally went to sleep, too. You’re soup now. You’re going to serve a great purpose, just like I’ve always said.”
You slowly bleed out as you see the giant pot of soup simmering over the open flame, a pot that you will be added to momentarily, meat, bones, bristle and all.
*****
[[Checkpoint: LFD Underground ->The Underground]]hasCard:false
--
You decide that, with identity potentially revealed, it’s best to try and get away as much as you can. They haven’t tied your arms or feet, so you kick and squirm as best as you can, but you still can't get away.
"Damn, you've got a lot of fight in you." A voice says. "Good. We will need it."
Things seem to be only getting worse as you're led into a place that smells damp, a mildew scent that lingers not only in your nose but on your skin, as though this wasn’t a place humans were ever meant to stay.
It feels like a place where people go to disappear.
You hear whispering as your captors slow their pace—a hushed murmur, as though whatever is happening is a far bigger moment to these people than it is to you. Suddenly, your hood is ripped off, and there is a collective gasp as you see looks of genuine shock and awe at the mere sight of you.
You’re standing in a sewer, surrounded by a few dozen women. You take notice of the poor state of their living conditions—the women here are undernourished, dressed in rags, and some of them don’t appear to communicate at all.
The women circle around you, talking quietly as they stare at you, until they part to allow one woman to approach. She has short, dark hair and a scar over her right eyebrow. There’s something eerily familiar about her that you just can’t place. She pulls a vape out of her pocket and takes a drag, letting the vapor drift from her mouth as she crosses her arms.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
You focus your gaze on the woman before you and feel the tattered shreds of a memory you just can’t place. She feels like an apparition, someone you encountered for only a brief moment, yet she left a lasting mark on your very existence.
“No, I don’t remember you. But I’d like to. Why don’t you tell me who you are and why you’ve brought me here?”
“I brought you here to change the world, Scarlett Sky. As for where we met, well, it was in a place where death seemed certain, and yet you found a way to hang on to hope. Even as the lights changed from green to yellow to red, you stood up and declared that survival was possible—that our potential was endless.”
A sudden memory flashes through your mind.
You remember.
Five years ago, after you were captured on Subjugation Night, you were sold to an auction house. There, you were put up for sale to three prospective buyers—but a stranger, THIS stranger, encouraged you that, if you wanted to survive, you had to appeal to the buyer you believed you were most likely to survive with. You followed her advice, survived your hunt with Puma, and, because of her encouragement, are here today.
“I do remember you. But if I recall correctly, we never had the chance to exchange names.”
“Ah, yes. My name didn't matter where we met. It had been stripped from me when I was subjugated and sold, and I've since liberated myself from everything this society had in store for me. I go by Phoenix because it symbolizes what I believe in—rebirth. And you…”
She raises her hand, ensuring she has the full attention of the room.
“You are Scarlett Sky, President of SkyCorp, survivor of the Subjugation Auction, pupil of the huntress Puma Catori, and leader of the movement that women can and should only be eaten with their full consent.”
The whispering from the circle of women grows louder, as though they're witnessing something otherworldly—someone larger than life.
“I'll have to have you introduce me at my next party,” you joke with a smile, but your lips press together at your dishonesty.
You never throw parties. You don't have the time.
Or the friends.
One woman pushes the others aside, and you notice the fresh bruise around her right eye. You realize she must have been one of the women who grabbed you off the street, likely the one you punched in the face before the hood was pulled over your head.
“How do we know she really is who you say she is? I looked at her ID. It says Clare Wood.”
“Now, now,” Phoenix says, raising a hand as the women begin to get loud. “That's no way to treat our guest.”
“I SAY she's just a spy sent to turn us all in. She's not leading us to freedom, just to a banquet where we will all end up being served on the same table. I want her out of here, NOW.”
The woman charges straight at you. Words won't be enough—you'll have to show her who you are by the way you handle this.
[[Let her make the first move and then try and subdue her. ->Underground 2]]
[[Take the initiative and hit her first, and hard, to prove to these women who you are.->Underground Dinner]]Test Save A
[[Untitled Passage 9]]
{load save: 'Load Saved Game'}Just as you feel yourself beginning to black out, you remember—despite what you fantasize about, what you crave, and what might even be your fate—you have one thing you absolutely must do before deciding anything else.
You have to save Zoe.
You force a deep breath and gasp air in to clear your vision, take your trembling hand and strike down forcefully on Puma's wrist, breaking her grip on your throat. You forcefully grab her other hand and pull it out of your pants, and slide your leg behind hers as you trip her to the ground.
As she falls, a knife at Puma's left hip pops right out of its sheath and flies into the air. You gasp through watery eyes as it flutters overhead. Reaching out through your blurry vision, you manage to grab it just before it tumbles to the ground.
The room hangs in silence as the precariousness of this moment lingers in the air, the only other thing present is the scent of your near orgasm that is soaked through your pants. You don't linger on it, and kneel down to offer Puma her "Chanir" - a ritualistic blade of her people - and a hand to get her back to her feet.
"Oh my goodness." Jenna says. "If her Chanir had hit the ground..."
"...it would've been to the death, for us, Scarlett." Puma growls.
"I...won't...I have to...save..." You struggle to say through a strained throat, Puma's handprint red across your neck.
"Are you sure you're up for this, Scarlett?" Puma says as she sucks your juices off her fingers. "You've practically basted yourself in just a few seconds with me."
“Yeah, Scarlett…” Jenna says, walking over to console you. “I had no idea that you even fantasized about being—”
“I don't,” you say, trying to force this lie into the truth. “It's just that Puma and I shared a very visceral experience once.”
“It's... it's just... I really need to—” Jenna stammers, closing her eyes as she tries to find the words, as though she's trying to fight her way through a long-standing mental block of her own.
"Hey..." you say to Jenna. "It's something I hope you'll never understand, and that's perfectly okay."
You pull her in for a hug but keep your hips back to avoid increasing your embarrassment by getting your wetness on her, too.
"...Thanks," she says, whatever other words she had planned to say slipping back into her mind.
As you pull away from your friend, you turn and stand in front of Puma. As she offers her forearm, you clasp it at the wrist, and you touch foreheads together. A gesture of mentor to student that you've shared for many years.
"I may have gotten sucked in by you, but I survived again. Isn't that the test? That I can walk as close to the edge as possible and then pull back?" you say.
"It's your weakness," Puma says, but nods back. "But you're not wrong, either. Perhaps you are finally for the test, for our last lingering question to be answered. To survive this, you'll have to make sacrifices greater than you can possibly imagine."
"I... understand the risks. And the responsibility. I'm going forward. I'm going back to Dolcett.
"That's the spirit, Scar. Well, hmm..." Jenna says, shuffling through her desk. "Or... should I say... Claire. Claire Elizabeth Wood."
"...Who?" you ask.
"It's like Puma said. People would die for the chance to be the one who ate Scarlett Sky. And God forbid that... Charlene... ever found out you were wandering the streets of Dolcett..."
You close your eyes and remember. Your reluctant business partner, whom you forced into a consent-only arrangement, who has tried to trip you up at every turn for the last five years. She's gotten you as close to being eaten as anyone else, and if not for Jenna—and a lot of luck—you'd be...
"You're right. She'd have me fitted for an oven at any cost."
"Absolutely. So, let's get you some fake identification. But, and I hate to remind you, we only issue 'Conversion Visas' at SkyCorp. Which means you're being accepted into the country under the expectation that you'll be slaughtered within a week of arrival. So, if you don't have both yourself and the girl out of there by then, a death certificate is automatically issued, and you have no legal standing or ability to leave the country."
"...I understand. It's just like before. No, it's exactly like before. All of this is so strange."
"Strange?" Jenna asks.
"Charlene's disappearance, this Zoe girl being sent in error, and it all happening in the same week—the exact calendar week as five years ago."
Jenna doesn't answer, and Puma stares out the window again.
"Oh well, I guess there's no making sense of it now..."
You say, turning to face the door.
"...It's time for One More Week in Dolcett."
[[Advance to: Sunday Night/Monday Morning ->Airplane, Customs]]Revealing:
Turned on
Hiding it
Invetiabley"I am just the instrument that has been sent to collect the debt you have not paid," you say.
"I can't believe that this is how I'm going to be remembered..."
You shake your head.
"No, you're not going to be remembered... at all."
He stares at you, perplexed, like you just spoke a foreign language.
"History has very little patience for self-created figures—people who prop themselves up at the expense of others and point relentlessly at themselves, over and over. Time has a way of seeing through those who spend more time trying to project something that does not exist. Your legacy is not redefined here; we've just hastened the realization of what you truly are. You'll be a footnote in the history of this world, a cautionary tale, and then, forgotten."
Leikr shakes his head.
"And what about you, Scarlett Sky? Once this is all over with, it'll just be you at your little office, pretending to be something you're not, trying to fight off your desire that every woman in this whole world cherishes—to be eaten and conquered. You can try to keep hiding from it, but maybe you should take your own advice and realize that even though I'll be forgotten, you'll never be able to forget what you truly are. Sure, you'll celebrate your victory, but..."
Leikr laughs.
"...you'll celebrate it all alone."
Your eyes turn away for a moment, contemplating the gravity of his words, the question that has hung over your existence for the last five years. You can never truly let anyone in, as they will either run away or use your greatest fantasy against you.
You take a breath and nod your head, eager to formulate an answer to the question, reluctant to give him the last word.
As you turn back to respond, Leikr is gone, a wretched smile frozen on his face, his eyes staring into whatever hell lies beyond.You're able to meet her diving attack with a foot to her chest just as she's about to stab through you, launching her off her feet and onto her back. You slash at her legs just as she's rolling to her feet, but you are met with a heel kick between your eyes, causing your ears to ring as you lose consciousness for a second.
You come too with Puma on top of you, breathing heavily, as you see her blade firmly implanted in your cheest.
"Ugkkkk!" you utter out, the sound of the wind being knocked of your chest as you lie mounted in defeat.
"No..." Zoe laments. "Scarlett..."
"YES. I HAVE WON. I HAD ALWAYS WON. BUT THERE IS NO DOUBT. EVERYTHING IS AS IT SHOULD BE!"
Puma's words echo through the Sleeping Willow forest, which offers no response. You only have seconds to live, and you feel your joints getting stiffer with every passing second. Soon, your tendons go as stiff as the bones they connect to, and you are as silent as the wood around you."Pick my fucking bones clean, Charlene. Promise you'll eat every last part of me. I want to be digest by you."“If you don’t mind, I’d like to sit with my guess for just a few more minutes. I have so much to say.”
“Please bring us some… What are you drinking?”
“Oh, I’d totally kill for a Cosmo.”
“Or be killed…” the waiter says jokingly to himself as he writes up the order.
“Let’s make it two. Thank you.”
A chair is brought over to the table, and she sits eagerly.
“Florida is so fun!”
“Is that what you think you are?”
“Yeah, duh. The only weird thing is, I haven’t seen the ocean yet. Where is it, anyway?”
“A few thousand miles away. Anyway…”
“We didn’t get to finish our introductions earlier. I’m Claire Wood.”
You take a big gulp because, if you were wrong about all of this, the woman you came to rescue is very likely dead.
The woman smiles back.You resist one final time but Jenna grabs you by the arms and holds you down. You suddenly regain your sense and turn your head at the shock and lower your hips to lift her on your shoulders and throw her on the ground. She lands on her head and you step forward to check on her, but then realized that the real threat is-
"Ugggggghhhhhhh!"
You feel Charlene's fingers slipping inside you, inch by inch, and they immediately grip you from the inside and tug. A pleasure unlike anything you've ever experienced washes over you, and you shake as she lifts her hands and nearly lifts you off the ground as endorphins flood every part of your body. You feel yourself let out a moan as gasp for oxygen, but you stay on short, desperate breaths as your head falls back and you scream out in orgasm as she holds you on her hand like you're impaled on a spit.
"I've waited a long fucking time for this, Scarlett Sky. And, finally, tonight...I am going to roast your ass for my fucking supper."
She continues to use her fingers and knead upwards as her thumb presses down and rubs against your clit. The pleasure is intense and all encompassing, you feel yourself moaned so loud with your second orgasm that some of the pans hanging on the wall rattle, a clanging sound that sounds like they too are screaming, but instead for the opportunity to sear and braze your flesh. You feel your vision blur and your body go limp as a third orgasm leaves your body without any strength left to fight.
"That's it. Let your brain go to sleep. There's no need to fight any longer, sweet Scarlett. It's time now for pleasure, release, and consumption."
You go completely limp in Charlene's arms, who smiles as she holds you up, taking a moment to take in the sight of your defeated body. Jenna walks over and opens a drawer, pulling out the kitchen shears and cuts the clothing off your body. You don't resist, just hanging helplessly as Charlene continues to rub and edge you towards a mind-shattering fourth orgasm tha breaks any remaining mental resistance you have left.
"That's it. That's a good little roaster. You're going to look so good in the oven. I've waited so long for this."
Once you're naked, Jenna grabs under your soaking wet thigh and under a shoulder to lift you up and lay you on your back in the roasting pan. Your arms fit perfectly into metal holders, that with the press of a button, clasp over and lock you into place. They work to apply similar shackles over your elbows, knees, and neck.
"I FINALLY did it. I finally got YOU. I'm finally going to..."
Charlene meets her eyes with yours as she licks licks your flavor off of her fingers.
"...eat you. I'm finally going to eat you, Scarlett Sky."
Your head lays back into the pan and she stands over you, her expression going from joy to a more serious, methodical, business like expression. Still confident, still happy, but ready.
"Now, it's time I get to work. I'm going to make you into the delicious meal anyone has ever had. I know you will be for me, but I want to make sure my....special guest...is well satisfied too."
Charlene loos over to Jenna and Jenna nods as she pulls out her phone and leaves the room to make a call.
"Now, let's get you prepped, stuffed, and in that oven to SLOWLY roast alive, my preciouss little piglet."
*********************
You can't go the rest of your life not knowing how good this exact situation can feel. We both know it's the truth. Deep down, you call it surrender, or being conquered, or broken, but I call it self-actualization. The calling of your soul realized.
It feels larger than life, doesn't it? It's because your purpose isn't in your life, it's in accepting that being eaten by me is bigger than a craving, it's destiny, and the thing about fate, darling, is it can never, ever, be denied.
Speaking of denial, youve edged yourself long enough. It's time for you to release, accept, and find bliss in the only place you've ever dreamt of.Test Save BThe trail of Zoe's white wedding dress runs all the way down her dressing room. As she sits in front of a mirror, going over the makeup that a professional spent hours putting together, she can't find her smile.
"I don't look like myself," Zoe says.
An older woman, Zoe's mother, walks over and sits beside her.
"That's because you keep your hair so short. I know you had your head shaved for—what did you say the reason was?"
"Charity, Mom." Zoe says, a smirk flashing across her face. "I had my head shaved because I was trying to save the world."
"Well, there's no need for any of that foolishness anymore, the only world you need to be concerned about is your new husband's." her mother says, continuning to fluff Zoe's dress. "...you could have at least worn a wig."
"I like it. It makes me feel different."
"Oh, Zoe. You've never been much one for different. And after you're married, I'm sure your husband will insist on you growing it out again."
"I'm sure he'll insist on a lot of things," Zoe says, her eyes wandering out the window.
"Now Zoe. I don't know WHERE on Earth you learned this new attitude..."
"Dolcett, mom."
"That joke has been and never will be funny. Listen to me - we all get cold feet. I even got cold feet when I married your father."
"Really?" Zoe says, her eyes and ears eager the story.
"But I got over it, and so will you. You probably think your life is going to be very similar to what it is now, once you're married..."
"...probably..."
"...but your husband will expect even more from you. He's a fine man, just like your father."
"Dad doesn't let you leave the house by yourself."
"And I'm better for it. Zoe Sanders. Listen to me very closely - if you embarass us at this wedding, I will never forgive you. Do you understand?"
"...yes, mother."
*******
Phoenix also stands in front of a mirror, looking very much the same from her head to her neck, but she continues to grab at something around her neckline.
“It just doesn't fit right. I don't know about this. It feels like a noose.”
Blueberry rolls her eyes and shakes her hands frantically around Phoenix's head. She points to the door, and then stands up tall, and gestures like she's giving a presentation. She then continues to point at her neck and run a finger up and down towards her chest.
"Alright, alright, quit your hollerin'."
Blueberry nods and smiles with approval as she leans over and tightens the cloth around Phoenix's neck. She steps back and they look in the mirror together - both of them dressed in feminine, but powerful suits.
"I guess I'm not used to this.—I guess I'm used to leading from the underground. Leading from this position is something that I don't fully understand.”
Blueberry gives Phoenix a hug.
“Well, I guess if you believe in me, I guess I've got to believe in me too.”
A knock is heard, and they both turn toward the door. A female assistant wearing a headpiece with a microphone attached to her mouth enters.
It's Jenna.
“We're ready for you, Mistress-”
Phoenix and Blueberry flash a confused look at Jenna.
"Excuse me, I meant..."
Jenna takes a moment to clear her throat.
“…Madame President.”
******
"So, what do you think? Is it everything you ever dreamed of?"
Scarlett looks into a hand mirror that is being held by Asher. She sees herself, trust to a roasting pan, seasoned, garnished, and surrounded with vegetables. Ready to roast, with an apple stuffed in her mouth, a perfect picture of a ready to go in the oven snuffet. She glistens through the oil and marinade that has been rubbed on her body come, but there's nowhere that she doesn't marinade more than from the turnip that is stuffed in her p****. She moans and nods to Asher.
"Yeah, I thought so too. You look divine. Go to enough to eat. Like everything I've ever wanted in my fantasies."
"Mine too." Scarlett says through her apple.
The oven timer beefs loudly to break the tension in the room. Asher looks over rubbing one hand over Scarlett's body as it drifts down to her cunt.
"I guess there's still time for one last stuffing, but after, that, I'm putting your ass in the oven to roast. You're on the menu tonight, remember?"
He turns over a menu board placed next to Scarlett on the counter. It reads:
<3 OVEN ROASTED SCARLETT <3
served whole
********
(Change this to dad and mentioning money)
"You never got cold feet?"
"No, Zoe. I always knew it was going to be your father."
"You never wanted to be anything else? Than his wife?"
"I get to be plenty of things. I'm head of the PTA. I'm Secretary of the Yacht Club. These are all things that I was able to do, Zoe, because we have money. You're new husband has money too. Money is what makes the world go round. The people that have money make the decisions, and the people who don't..."
"People like me."
"You're going to have it, though. I don't understand what's gotten you so worked up. You went to that little bachelorette party, shaved your head, and all of a sudden, you have all these big dreams. Well, you need to get those dreams out of your head. Everything is going to be all right. You're going to have a good life. It's going to be easy, relaxing, and you're going to have a lot of children. Just like you've always wanted."
"What if what I've wanted changed?"
"It's very normal to feel how you are. I went through the same thing with your father. But in the end, I made the right decision. I trust you'll make the right decision too."
They hug.
"Thanks, Mom."
**********
An impatient group of mostly women stands with their arms crossed, looking almost uncomfortable in a gathering that is supposed to be about them. They wait outside an empty podium. Alongside them are some men, looking bitter and frustrated, not used to the integrated environment where they stand shoulder to shoulder with women—uncollared women, who are now their equals. The tension and frustration could boil over at any moment.
Music plays as Phoenix steps forward to very little fanfare.
She goes to hit vape but throws it away
“Good afternoon, everyone, and thank you for joining me on this very historic day. Since the dawn of time in the country of Dolcett, women have had one specific purpose in mind—a purpose that has defined the relationships between the two genders for generations. Three months ago, we asked a simple question: What if women could be more? What if all of us should have a choice not only in our outcomes, but in our actions, in our growth, as well as our desires? These are questions we still try to answer even on this day, as we continue to build a new world together. What I do know is that women continue to gather, speak, and find their voices for the first time. And alongside them, there are men who are willing to listen.
“I was skeptical when I was asked if I would take the ballot to potentially be elected as the first woman leader of this country. I was skeptical when it was suggested that men should be equal to women and not spend their turn at our feet. If I hadn’t met a woman and a man who inspired me to learn, change, grow, and be different, I would not be on this stage today. And that—that is my lasting message to you and my commitment to you as a people.
“We are in a period of transition. We all have an opportunity to grow and be something more than our individual selves. If we work together, our legacies do not have to be defined by who we consume or who we were consumed by, but rather by the consumption of our essence as souls and as people who have something to give to society. That is what we should stand for.
“And with that in mind…”
(Shot of Baron being led off to jail, with Charlene there too)
"What are you in for?
It's such a DREADFUL tale, darling...
***
The smacking of flesh echoes true Scarlett's kitchen as Asher mounts for trust off, legs, tide behind her head, eager and wet p**** and pounds it without mercy, gripping her by the neck, squeezing some oxygen from her brain and building the last orgasm that will shatter her existence as a human being as she allows herself to fall deeply and fully into her greatest fantasy. The closer they both come to orgasm, the more intense the sound of the sex, the smell of the marinating, sweat and vegetables and salt and stink and fills the room. A combination of the two of their desires melting into one.
I'm going to f****** eat you Scarlet. I'm about to I'm going to roast you in your own oven and I'm going to eat you just like I've always wanted.
I want you to eat me Asher. I want you to eat every last part of me and pick my bones and digest in your stomach. And I want to be your trophy. Gosh God I want it. I want it took me tonight. Cook me tonight please please roast me. Please roast me
They both come screaming out echoing through the room. Just as Ash or falls on Scarlett gasping for air, the kitchen timer dings. The oven is ready.
Well, there's only one thing left to do now.
******
(add husband saying "last time I let her out of the kitchen to best man
Zoe stands in front of the two closed doors that will open in just a moment to welcome her into the ceremony where she will be married. She holds the bouquet at her chest, and the veil covers her expression. She keeps her head down and prepares to march forward toward the dream and destiny she’s always wanted.
At least, before she went to Dolcett.
Zoe’s mother makes one last return to the staging area and makes a final adjustment to Zoe’s dress.
“You look beautiful. I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks, Mom. I just…”
“There’s no more time for that. Go to your husband. Allow yourself to be led. Trust in what fate has decided for you.”
What did you say?
A gust of wind blows through an open window, knocking over a nearby flower pot. The vase shatters on the floor.
“Oh my goodness…” Zoe’s mother says.
Zoe’s eyes wander down to the shattered flower pot, and then up to the window, the drapes still waving in the wind. Her hand wanders away from the bouquet and down her left thigh.
“What a stroke of bad luck,” Zoe’s mother says.
Zoe’s hand continues to wander down to her garter belt and grips the hilt of the blade hidden inside. Her finger traces the wear of the ancient blade, and she locks eyes with her mother.
“…The forest has spoken…”
*****
"I can think of no greater example of the world we try to build than by honoring the person we have gathered here to commemorate. It was through her vision that women in this country were first able to see living proof, ironically, that a woman could be more than something to be told. They could be creative. They could be bold. They could be capable of the same levels of imagination and dreams as any man—not that they are better or worse, but that they offer a different flavor besides their meat.
"I'm honored to gather with you today to open this fantastic facility, which will educate, incentivize, and give opportunities to women throughout this country to think big, chase their dreams, and contribute the deepest parts of their souls to us all.
"Thank you so much."
The crowd cheers, men and women alike, as Phoenix finishes her speech. She walks over in front of a red ribbon, with Blueberry nodding eagerly, and is handed a giant pair of scissors. She gestures for Blueberry to have the honors, and Blueberry cuts the red ribbon as the cheering grows louder and continues.
Phoenix puts an arm over Blueberry's shoulder, and together they look up at the building's signage:
**Dee Elizabeth White Memorial Woman's Library and Writing Center.**
***********************
Asher squeezes into you as he shoots rope after r
ope of semen deep inside of your p****, your body opening and eagerly willing to accept him. He collapses on you, the barbecue sauce now slather over his body as well, although not nearly nicely as coated and ready to roast as you are. Speaking of
...
There's only one thing left to do now.
Dinner you say
There's only one thing left to do now.
Asher's words echo through your mind, as a wave of orgasmic Bliss, acceptance, and total vulnerability wash through your body. You're absolutely lost in the most perfect post orgasmic subspace, content for whatever happens next. Your body doesn't react flinch or move a muscle. As you see the large kitchen knife raised up and pointed towards your body. You just close your eyes and breathe in offering to him, your body and whatever happens next
You hear a cutting sound and you don't feel any pain. You feel the binds around your body begin to loosen. You open your eyes to see that Asher has already cut you loose, and is reaching across the counter for his phone.
I say.. we still got plenty of time to get cleaned up, get showered and looking all pretty as you always are, and we could still make our dinner reservation at that sushi place you'll love at 7:00.
Sushi?! You got us a reservation. That's so sweet
He blushes yeah you know you deserve it Scarlet. You deserve the world. I just... I love you so much.
I love you too.
THE END.
*****
******
Here comes the bride please, and the large wooden doors open. The gathered mass is weight, with Zoe's future housing sharing a high five to his groomsman as he awaits his soon to be obedient tradwife walking down the aisle and surrendering her rights for the final time.
But, Zoe does not come.
"That woman has such a flair for the dramatic/I'm going to teach her a lesson later/this is why I don't let her out of the kitchen/can't leave that one to her own decisions for a minute"
Outside, Zoe rushes through the courtyard of the church. She grabs her Chanir out of her garter and slices off the shoulders of her dress, and then, the flowing back portion. She cuts it and cuts it, until it resembles more of her outfit when she marched with the LFD, and slides her blade back at her hip.
A (very) late arriving couple rushes out of a cab to join the ceremony, giggling up the church stairs. Zoe darts ahead, expertly sliding behind them, and into the cab door just before it's closed.
"Oh, I wasn't expecting a fare here. I'm working the McLaughlin wedding."
"McLaughlin-Sanders."
"That's not the way I understand it. Regardless, it's a long ceremony."
"A long life..."
"Where to?"
Zoe sits back in the seat, tears forming in her eyes.
"Second star to the right..."
The driver looks back confused. Zoe leans forward and slams her hand on the passenger seat, startling him as she drops a $100 bill in his cupholder.
"..and straight on until morning!"
He shrugs and the cab pulls off. Zoe watches as the church fades in the distance. She cries, full torrents of tears streaming down her face, and she struggles to gather herself. But with every hiccup, every gasp, every sob, she steels a bit further, a confidence resurfacing - a desire to be something more than what one destiny had in store for her.All right, would you like to pay extra for any of our augmentation packages?"
You fight a bit against your bindings at the idea of being augmented.
"What do you think, girlie?"
"I'm perfect the way I am, thank you," you shoot back.
"Perfect, huh? You know..." I've never had a redhead to play with. How much is the, um..."
He scans a list of fates that could befall you. Your eyes wander over the same list, and you cringe at the idea of breast augmentation, lip filler, and all the standard plastic surgeries that could make you look more like a Barbie doll. That's the last thing you want. You've worked so hard to make your body a perfectly fit and healthy machine.
You don't even realize he's pointing at it, as he's not planning on augmenting your body at all.
"Is this really the price for the Stepfordization package?"
Your eyes widen, and you try to shimmy your tied ankles backward in fear. You have no idea what that means, but you're absolutely certain you don't want to find out.
"Yeah, we just finished developing it, actually. It's only been on the market for six months. We do't even offer it to the public yet, so, obviously, we charge a pretty hefty price for it. But trust me, the results, as you said earlier, are perfect."
Sean looks at you and rubs his chin. You try to shake your head no, but you don't know what else to say.
"All right, why not? I'll spring for it."
With just a simple phrase, your fate is sealed. Two men in white coats come out and drag you away from Sean, with you trying to dig your heels into the carpet as he follows behind.
You're led into a small, doctor's-office-looking room as you're strapped into a chair. A large dome is placed over your head, with various lights and cords attached to it. Your wrists are strapped to the chair, and all you can do is shake in place.
You're feeling terrified now. This is not any type of outcome that you could have expected, wanted, or deserved.
You see Sean nodding and pointing at different options on the computer on the other side of the room. You wonder if he's customizing you, deciding what type of programming is about to be jammed into your brain.
"I'm a person..." you whimper to yourself.
Sean nods as he walks over to you, a curious look in his eye. You feel a bit hopeful that he might have changed his mind or want to get to know you better before committing to whatever is about to happen to you.
"Hey, girlie, can you cook?"
"Fuck you," is all you say back.
"Fair enough."
He walks back to the computer screen, and you hear him mention something about the world foods package. That appears to be the last step of their arrangement, as the room darkens and all the electricity in the room appears to be channeled through the machine you wear on your head.
"No... God, no... I don't want to be..."
You feel the machine activate, and you feel a terrible strain in your mind. It's like you can feel your memory and identity being ripped out of your skull, like pages from a novel of your life being burned one by one. You grit your teeth as you drift from being Scarlett's Sky to Scarlett Stepford wife. You can feel yourself becoming dumber, literally struggling to form words in your mind or retain any semblance of who or what you are.
You don't have any thoughts remaining when the procedure is complete. You blink robotically as Sean walks over to you.
"Well, can you cook now?"
"Oh," you say in a very soft, hyper feminine voice. "Are you hungry? Why don't I fix you a nice meatloaf for dinner, Master?"The end of the Charlene scene is Scarlett is able to escape on her own accord and prove to herself that she's more than her feelings of lust. (Star Trek VI - Kirk has to save Kirk to be Kirk)
I can't believe it. We're able to break free of her even though she even got her fingers inside of you.
"You know, everyone here has their opinion on what makes a woman test best. But, they are missing the most important ingredient."
"That's because taste is subjective. We place so much effort in convincing people to see through our lens, but we can never wear the same glasses. The world would be a better place if we could just understand that there are some experiences we can't share together, that our experience in some matters isn't unilateral." - Scarlett
(Love)
"Her power comes in consent. Once you decide to give yourself to her, even for a second, she's too temping, too perfect at what she does to break free. But, I frustrated her, and forced her to try and take me before I was ready. That was my advantage."
Also...
Gasting for air
Yes.... I.... I realized she was...
She was what?
She was wrong about me. She was right about a lot of the things she said, but there was one that she was wrong.
I'm sorry, Scarlett. I don't know why you'd ever forgive me." Jenna says.
"If I've learned anything on this journey it's that we are ALL one step away from destruction, Jenna. We just need one good purpose to catch us before we fall. One person makes the difference."
Alt: One person with good intentions
What's that
"Perhaps there is a place for us in the world. Perhaps we don't have to stay in the underground, our identities hidden forever just because of one strange fetish."
"Maybe this is the beginning of us being able to be seen as people with desire and not monsters ."
"The Best is yet to come."
The final oven scene w Charlene is same as the opening dream but you have an item to escape (Asher's love as a symbol and metaphor)
Later in the story, I don't think that purpose is like an anchor. I think it's a raft. It's up to us to choose where we paddle lest we be pulled out to the Sea. I lost sight of that for a long time. I was adrift but found my way home
Ending is like
"I don't feel comfortable in this suit, I preferred being a resistajce fighter."
",This...how...now resist." The formerly wordless piglet says.
Tough puts on suit and argues with aide
Zoe in white dress looking in mirror, she tries to tell husband looking at her before is bad luck and he says "it doesn't matter. By the end of the night you'll be all mine forever and I'm going to breed you into the perfect little Zoe trophy." She gets wet but shakes her head. She has Scarlett's gift.
Scarlett slow reveal in roasting pan
Reveal that tough is president
Zoe starts to walk down aisle
Scarlett is fucked, begs to be eaten
Tough reveals the library and writing center "today we change the meaning of the word opportunity. Not just to be the best meal, but something greater. As a wise woman once said "book quote"
Zoe says "wait" then she goes on her own adventure
Scarlett says I love you and let's do a hotter scene next time
Good ending is Scarlett is trussed on the table like she's been roasted or about to be roasted and her bf comes in and fucks her to orgasm, and just as audience thinks shes gonna be roasted they say I love you to each other and plan their next dolcett sex scene together as equals“I’m telling you, work on D-Day is the best assignment you can have all year.”
“Why is that, boss?”
“Nothing ever happens on D-Day. It’s a national celebration. Heck, I remember my first D-Day. I was upset about being away from the Mrs. I was planning on having her for supper myself, but, you know, there were plenty of leftovers when I got home.”
“Hahaha, yeah, good point, boss.”
“Yeah, and you know, we spent enough time together as it was. So, the way I see it, ain’t a single crime ever going to be committed on D-Day because everyone’s so happy.”
“It is a joyous day, boss.”
“Sure is. Heck, you know, the womenfolk are even happier than normal to be cut up and eaten, and the guys, well... It’s a great opportunity to show off their patriotism, their pride, and their patriarchy as heads of households by having their ladies volunteer to be the annual barbecue. Who would ever disrupt something like that?”
“Can’t think of a soul, boss. Can’t think of a soul.”
“Yep. Triple pay. Practically highway robbery, if you ask me.”
“Ah, boss...”
“Yes, Lieutenant? And I do not appreciate your increased vernacular.”
“Sir?”
“I’m saying you sure are talking a lot for our day off. Now, what can I do for you?”
“Well, I just wanted to ask a quick question. I know nothing’s supposed to happen—it’s out of the ordinary on this date—but what in the good old-fashioned woman-eating world is that?”
They both look and see the gathering of 75 women, led by Scarlett and Phoenix, approaching.
The lead officer steps forward.
“Now, hold on a minute. I don’t know what in the world is going on here unless y’all are just fixin’ to rush off to slaughter, but I don’t recall seeing y’all on the list. Are you part of the volunteer float? ’Cause they already went by.”
“We have our passes. They’re here.”Test Save C
{save to file: 'Save Game'}
[[Untitled Passage]]"I'm telling you, man. Friday is the easiest day to work of the entire calendar year," the older officer says.
"Whatever you say, boss," the younger one responds. "I'd rather just be at home with the missus, having myself a nice dinner."
"Yeah, well, that's because you're not thinking about the big picture. There is overtime involved. Sometimes, heck, they pay triple time for Friday. Triple time! You can buy whatever meat girl you want. Maybe even a live one."
"That's a good point, boss..." the younger one says as he turns his gaze to you. "Speaking of meat girls, what are we going to do with this one?"
"Oh, well... about her..." the older one says as he turns to look at you as well. "Usually, a falsifier of documents like this, well, she becomes the property of the officer who's made the claim. But just as we went to put her in the system under her real name, well, she was flagged due to her previous misbehavior in this here country. It turns out a deal has already been arranged for her custody."
"You used a lot of big words there, boss."
"What I'm saying is, someone has prepaid a heavy price on this one to claim her the minute she ever stepped foot back in the country."
"Who in the heck would do that, boss?"
"A very powerful woman indeed. She's the head of—"
The prison door unlocks from the lobby, and the sound of heels clicking echoes as a woman's silhouette enters the room. You gaze through blurry vision as the silhouette becomes clearer and the face leans between the bars.
"Well, HELLO, darling. I've just been waiting for this moment for so long."You scream out, like a woman, as the branding iron sears into your right ass cheek. You notice that several of the farm hands stop working, when the bullet going through Peaches head hadn't startled them at all.
They probably aren't used to the sound you just made, you realize, and that cannot be good.
"Well, that was not the right answer. We can't just have you running trying to communicatee with other sows, now can we? The last thing this farm needs is someone disturbing the Baron's declaration on stress-free meat."
She reaches down and grabs you by the jaw, pulling your neck up. You feel yourself instinctively begin to squirm as four people have to hold you in place. You see the scalpel shining, its reflection piercing through your eyes before the blade even touches you.
It takes them several minutes before you're exhausted enough to remain still for the scalpel to make its first incision just under your jaw. The cut itself only lasts a second, a single slit down your throat that you feel creates a gap of air just in the center of your throat.
"There you go. All done. Now, let's try that again. Go ahead, speak."
You attempt to speak your name, but only a groaning sound comes out.
"Mrrrr."
"Almost. Try again." Mistress Everett implores.
Your eyes dart back and forth as panic starts to take over.
"Mrrr? Mmrrr! Moooo!"
"There you go. You'll have plenty of time to practice. We're going to be keeping you for a LONG time."
As you're dragged off to whatever horrors they plan on inflicting on you next, you're already mentally broken. Losing your ability to speak completely changes your ability to maintain any sense of self. You try to repeat your name to yourself over and over, clinging to the last shreds of your identity.
*"I am Scarlett Sky. I am Scarlett Sky."*
But deep down, you know that that part of yourself is dead, severed from your body with one slit at your throat. Your panic morphs into surrender, and you accept that your fate will be as livestock. With only one tear falling from your eye, you groan out the only sound you will ever make again.
"....moo...."
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
You never regain any of the confidence that had become your signature over the last five years. The months and years that follow are spent with a docile, broken expression on your face—never quite completely happy, but never quite sad. Just a long wait for the inevitable.
You're marched out to a local buyer as he takes his time squeezing some of your fattier parts. He shakes hands with one of the assistants, and you're sold as half a cow—literally half of you, cut vertically, will end up in his fridge, freezer, and stomach. The rest of you is promptly butchered, packaged, and sold to a local grocery store to fill its shelves.
Which half of you goes to whomever no longer matters, as the whole of your identity was severed the minute you lost your voice.
************
[[Checkpoint: Thurs AM, Livestock ->Livestock]]" ... I deal with it the same way you do." You say, flatly, but honestly, a rush going through you didn't feel the need to hide your true self.
You turn your head, insistent on leaving this time.
"This IS the only way, really." Phoenix says, her fingers curling inward, inviting you back inside, in more ways than one. "I've tried to be celibate, I've tried to masturbate to other things, but, if anything, it just makes the cravings worse..."
You turn to face Phoenix and see a kindred spirit in this plight you've kept to yourself for five years.
"You're right." You admit. "I've found that...regular masturbation...to my deepest fantasy is the only way to keep myself from going over the edge. It keeps me sane."
"Couldn't have said it better myself." Phoenix says, stepping in closer, her breath hot, short, eager against your lips. "But how will you deal with your desire where you are going? They will have every right to eat you, if you're caught."
"I'm just going to not get caught, then. Or, at least, I'll do what I always do I'll-."
"Best to get it out of your system now, then take it where you're headed." Phoenix finishes.
You feel Phoenix's hand graze and rub against your thigh, with your hand coming to stop it, but offering very little resistance. You feel your breath getting heavy, eager for her touch, her lips, her tongue.
"Best for BOTH of us to get it out of our system, really..." Phoenix implores. "So we can think more clearly."
"I'm not attracted to women, sorry." you whisper out.
"No, but you ARE attracted to being eaten, aren't you?" Phoenix says, eyeing your body up and down. "You can't fool me, Scarlett. Behind that strong demeanor and lean, muscular frame, you've been excited to be back, haven't you? Walking the streets knowing that you could get snatched up at any moment..."
You feel a flush on your face and a wetness begin to form between your legs.
"You didn't get hot being wrapped tight in plastic two days ago? And, I can tell by how dry your skin is, you spent some time in the oven, didn't you? Did you think about giving in and surrendering? Did you touch yourself just as you realized you might finally be dinner?"
You close your eyes as you moan out of your core and your hand shakes with desire to touch yourself.
"Yes, you'd still make fine eating Scarlett Sky. I wouldn't mind being the one who sunk my teeth into you myself. But..."
Phoenix leans in to whisper in your ear.
"...I'll gladly settle for tasting you with my tongue. With my lips. And licking your essence off of my fingers."
You feel a hand pull at your wrist and lead you towards the bed.
"Come play with me, Scarlett Sky. Play with me and let us enjoy a moment of meaningless pleasure before we take on a journey together that could have greater consequence in this world than any woman has ever had before. A woman's journey should start and end with her own pleasure, wouldn't you agree?"
You begin to speak, but the words don't come out of your mouth. You feel your body laid down on Phoenix's bed, with her crawling on top of you, her lips just over yours.
"Tell me what turns you on, Scarlett Sky. Tell me what you fantasize about."
You feel your arms drop to your sides as she pulls you in for a kiss.
[[Tell her you fantasize about being alive roasted in an oven. ->W3]]
[[Tell her you fantasize about being spitted alive and cooked over open flame. ->M2]]"I fantasize about...about..."
Phoenix begins to kiss your neck, softly, her lips lingering as if she's tasting your flesh anew each time.
"...being...roasted in an oven...alive."
"You look like you already have…" Phoenix says, her kisses going down your neck, across over your chest, and onto to your breasts.
“Did you have a close call yesterday?”
“Yes…so close…”
Phoenix sucks on your nipples as her hand travels down your thigh, teasing and kneading your toned legs.
“That must’ve been hot for you. Tell me how she had you.”
“Trussed. In a pan. Oiled. Seasoned. Ready to roast. God. She roasted me. She roasted me in her fucking oven, and I, I…
“You loved it, didn’t you? It's just me and you here. You can let it out."
“…YES. It was so fucking hot. I felt myself cooking, I…”
Your hand naturally grips the roots of Phoenix's hair and you forcibly push her down to your crotch. She looks up and smiles, kissing the outside of your thighs as her hands trace closer and closer to your outer lips.
“I bet you smelled even better than you do now.” Phoenix says as she puts a finger in her mouth, wetting it.
“…I smelled so good. I could TASTE myself cooking. I was ready. I was so ready to give…”
Phoenix hand begins to press against your outer lips, pulling your mound out a bit, before squeezing and lightly kneading your tender flesh from the outside.
“Say the word, Scarlett.”
“I was ready to give…IN.”
Just as you say the word in, Phoenix slides a finger inside you.
“Is that right? Big, strong, Scarlett Sky was a submitted little oven roaster? I bet that was quite the sight.” Phoenix says as she curls her finger upwards, pressing on your G-spot, your hips rising to meet the pressure, as it’s just how you like it.
“What else has turned you on so far? Go on.”
[[Tell her that you were turned on by the receptionist at the hotel. ->M3]]
[[Tell her you were turned on at Cochinillo Assado, the restaurant. ->W4]]“I…went to a restaurant…”
“Oh, even I wouldn’t do that…” Phoenix says as she presses her lips firmly against your mound, her focusing her tongue on your clit, providing pressured, slow strokes.
You gasp outloud as you grip her head and squirm in her bed, an orgasm building between your legs.
“There was girl meat everywhere…every plate…every single one of them would’ve eaten me…”
“Just like I’m eating you now?”
You press her mouth back onto your mound.
“Just like this. Slowly licking me and fingering me just right. Not too fast, not too slow. Rythym. The restaurant had rhythm. I would’ve just been one meal in a long shift – consumed and forgotten…”
Phoenix increases the pressure of her lips on the roof of your mound, sliding a second finger into your pussy. She grins as your pussy clinches her hand tightly in response.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it? To be a meal and you’re burden as Scarlett Sky to be forgotten? What else?”
[[Correct her and tell you want to be kept. Admit you also got wet talking to Leikr. ->WO]]
[[Tell her you want to be forgotten, and that you craved being one of the Baron’s perfectly tender sow’s. ->M4]]“No, not forgotten. I want to be kept.”
Phoenix goes to speak but you shove her head in place, your legs beginning to quake as you can feel the orgasm coming.
“I got really wet when Leikr tried to kill me. He got his fingers inside of me, and…I…I…”
Phoenix pulls your hand away from her head for a moment to speak.
“You bad girl. You wanted to be his fucking trophy, didn’t you?”
“YES, GOD YES, I wanted him to fucking stuff me like an animal. I wanted to be his den. I wanted him to chew on my fucking bones and brag to his asshole friends about being the one to eat me. God, I want to be-”
Phoenix continues the steady rhythm of her thrusting hand, the curl in her fingertips, and the intense pressure on your mound, her tongue licking you from underneath.
"I want, I WANT TO BE EATEN. I want to be cooked alive. I want to FEEL myself go from strong muscule to soft, supple meat."
Phoenix does not try to speak, but simply maintains the steady pace and pressure to milk a body shaking orgasm out of you.
"I want to smell my flavor, my flesh cooking. I want to feel my senses dim. I want to be consumed, devoured, digested, part of someone else, forever. My only remaining legacy in their stomach. I just want to have my one PERFECT moment and then be enjoyed by someone else."
Just as your climax is imminent, Phoenix very slowly speeds her thrusting up, a subtle difference that matches at the pace of your breath. She presses her lips just a little firmer on your cunt. Her fingers curl in and press your G spot in to create pressure on both sides - squeezing the release out of you like juice from a grape.
"I WANT TO BE KEPT AS A TROPHY." You scream out. "I want every last bit of me to eaten all up, not a single shred of me to waste, annd then I want myy fucking bones boiled for soup. I want to be served with crusty bread, and fresh noodles, and, and..."
You don't even realize you're cuming as she rips orgasm after orgasm out of you. Just as you're about to scream, she slides her free hand over your mouth, and you hold the noise in out of respect for her need for discretion, to not reveal to the LFD she's just as sex crazed as you are.
You simple lie there and convulse as your body is flooded with the most multiple orgasm of your life. You can literally feel your heart beat as the endorphins flood your entire body, leaving you a soaking, heaving, peaceful, beautiful mess.
As your breathing steadies and you collect yourself, you look up to see Phoenix wiping her face and licking her hand clean .
"Delicious. You know, if I was to ever eat another woman, it would be you. But it would be exactly like this, night after night, just like that."
"That was SO fucking good, Phoenix. I needed that. Thank you."
"The pleasure was all mine, Scarlett. There's something freeing for me on letting someone else be in charge, for once. And you're about the only one I know I can trust."
[[Advance to: Thurs AM, After Care Scene ->MT]]Oh, sorry, I'm just so confused. You see, I'm from North Carolina and I really don't-
" North Carolina?! Really?!" The brunette next to you smiles and says. " What are the odds? Me too!!"
She picks up a menu points down and looks over at the girl next to you.
I'm thinking a nice steak. Medium rare. A big dollop of mashed potatoes on the side to soak in her gravy.
I love mashed potatoes! The girl next to you screams eagerly giving their attention back to her. It's like my favorite.
Good. I think we're all a firm believer that you taste best with what you liked to taste best.
The table agrees and even the brunette starts to nod, looking around and smiling.
You tap the girl on the arm.
I never got your name.
**********
"Yeah, if I was EVER to go, I'd totally want to be steak. Who wants to end up hamburger?" A blonde says.
"I fantasize about being spitted, honestly." A brunette responds.
"What about you? What's your favorite fantasy?" The blonde asks another blonde, sitting across the table sipping a drink.
"...fantasy? Well, when I was a kid, I really liked Peter Pan."
The entire table laughs.
"What? I just like the idea of neverland!"
"You're in neverland, alright." The blonde says.
"Just a moment, ma'am."
Your eyes lower at being called "ma'am."
"This is fun," the energetic brunette says.
"Oh, it's going to be very fun for you."
“I... don’t work here. I’m actually looking for someone.”
“Oh, okay. Well, you can leave because we don’t need any new friends.”
The table laughs.
“Gosh, I don’t think I’d have enough space to fit two new friends in tonight, if you know what I mean.”
The table laughs again, except for one girl—the brunette who was eager earlier—who seems confused. You grab a chair from a nearby table, slide it right over, and sit next to her.
“Um, rude. You can’t just sit at our table.”
Allow her to sit for a drink.
Swap drinks with her.You walk down the dark alley, finding the dim red door, and knock three times. The door slides open, and you walk back down into the sewer that is the underground meeting center of the LFD. You see Phoenix standing with Blueberry over the same large map of the city that they studied when you met, now with arrows hand drawn up main street and towards the town square. She pauses as she locks eyes with you, a smirk forming on her face.
"I should've known that you'd be back. My scouts told me you'd been sold as a full roaster, and if it was anyone else, I would've written them off as the end of their story, and yet-"
"I'm not finished yet." you proclaim. "I haven't lost hope."
"You never do." Phoenix says as she embraces you, her hands rubbing on your back in a way that you're ashamed to think turns you on a bit. "And you're only a little crispier for wear." She says, her face lingering close to yours.
"Phoenix. I need your help."
Phoenix walks back over to the large map of the city center and and puts her hands on her hips.
"Yes, I imagine so. But really, it's us that need YOUR help. You've proven already you can stay cool in really hot conditions, and nothing is going to be more dangero-"
"I need to save Zoe. I promised her I'd come for her."
Phoenix takes her vape out of her pocket and takes a long drag.
"From who now? Leikr? No offense, but she's not exactly his type."
"I dealt with him already."
The LFD underground suddenly goes silent.
"...You did what now?" Phoenix asks.
"I dealt with him. He tried to take me this morning, but I took care of him."
The whispering returns, but the inflection has changed. You notice that the members of the LFD look at you and that same way they did when you first walked in - like they are seeing something that's bigger than life.
Or, perhaps, you realiize, they are seeing you as big as you've become.
"This is exactly why I need you for our march Friday. The women here see you as the emboidment of what they want to be. The women across this country will see the same thing. You will inspire us, everyone, and it's through YOU that we change everything. You have to understand that."
"Zoe first, Phoenix. She was subugated tonight, and is now property of a Louis Bouvier to be cooked alive at a banquet tomorrow evening."
"Ah, the baron himself." Phoenix says, hitting her vape while rolling her eyes, chuckling to herself. "What could he possibly be trying to leverage by taking Zoe?"
Phoenix realizes the answer to her own question as she finishes speaking and she slowly looks deep in your eyes, a look of fear forming on her face as vapor leaks out of her mouth.
"Don't worry, I didn't tell him where you are."
Phoenix audibly gulps and looks back down at her map.
"Good. It would've been a heck of a bad timing to get caught, with Dolcett Day in two days and all. Granted, we will all probably be dead by then anyway."
Phoenix rolls up her map and sets it aside. She snaps her fingers and Blueberry retrieves a different map leaning against the wall and unrolls it on the table. You walk over and examine the much larger grid, displaying the entire region of the local area.
"The Baron lives here." Phoenix says, pointing to a large mansion at the north end of the map. "The banquet hall your friend will be served at is here - it is actually attached to the front of his manor where he often hosts the elite of this world for fine dining. There is exactly one road that can reach it - it is the most patrolled and checkpointed highway in the coutnry. There is absolutely no way to access his estate from a frontal approach."
"Then, there's got to be another way."
Phoenix sighs audibly as she does not try and hide any of her stress or discomfort.
"Yes, there ARE other ways that you could reach the property. I'm not aware of anyone whose ever done it, at least in one piece. It's a suicide mission, if I'm being frank."
"Sounds right up my alley then." You say with a smile. "How do I begin?"
"You begin by making a choice. There are three alternative routes that can lead to his estate, and you could take any of them and make it to the banquet before Zoeis roasted. However, all of them include different types of peril. It's just a matter of what type of danger you prefer."
Phoenix takes a drag from her vape.
"Understand something. This isn't like five years ago where I told you that you had to pick the right person to purchase you, or there would be no hope for you. It's at least possible to survive each of these three choices. But, whichever path you choose, will be the path you're committed on without a checkpoint to go back and choose another. The only way to take another path is to start your adventure again."
"I understand. Once I embark on one of these, I won't have the option to turn around and try another way, as it won't give me enough time to save Zoe."
"Exactly. So, which of your three hopeless and dangerous options would you like to ask about first?"
You look down at the map, examining three dotted lines that lead to Baron Louis Bouvier's mansion.
[["Ask about the path on the left - it leads through some type of forest labeled 'Mysterious Wood.'"->Explain Wood]]
[["Ask about the path through the center - it leads through a fenced off range of trees and is labeled 'Redwood Hunting Lodge.'" ->Explain Hunt]]
[["Ask about the path through the right - it leads through a series of fences and wire drawings and says 'Bouvier Farms.'" ->Explain Livestock]]Well, sweetie, I'm not just anyone. I'm something a little more special, a little more unique than what you would normally encounter. They've written stories about me. I can tell from the place that you're from, your skin, and the way you smell that you're an American.
She leans in.
"It's been a long time since I've had an American for supper. But I am going to eat every little bit of you, all the way up, and you are going to be a part of me forever."
She raises her hand, and you float into the air. A green light swirls around your body as you hover lightly off the ground.
"Yes, it really was fortunate that you happened to wander by when you did. I haven't eaten in so long, and you're going to make such a fine meal—one that should sustain me for decades to come."
"I'm going to make you into a nice soup. I'm going to boil you and that nice pot like I've boiled hundreds of women before and I'm going to drink you all up. And then, you'll be a part of me forever nourishing me in my essence with your soul for as long as I live."
As you look behind you, you not you watch as a knife floats in the air you tense as it aims towards your belly and the witch cackles again as it floats over and pulls, produce out of the garden and begins chopping it up. You watch as the vegetables, freshly chopped and bite size loader. The pot, carrots, potatoes, celery, all the ingredients to make a delicious vegetable soup with the one remaining green ingredient being you.
She stands as you slowly hover over the cauldron and you try to speak but your voice is mute like you're allowed to form the words and screen them out of your lungs. Not a sound is made as your lower into the steaming bra .
That's right. Time for your bath. It won't be long now.
You feel the steam hit as you are brought over the boiling pot.
That shell of yours is going to keep all the flesh inside so tender and juicy. Such a treat.
You hop back down on your feet, pick up a kitchen knife that was nearby, looking to put this witch out of her misery.
Just as you step forward, a fleeting thought flashes through your mind, betraying you for half a second
Good thing she didn't find out about my biggest fantasy
As you raise the knife, you're suddenly Frozen in a place, and you look down to see one hand with a gripping motion around your neck. You feel the spell begin to again
"Oh, lobster's just something you like every now and again. But it's not what you masturbate to EVERY NIGHT as you are about to fall asleep, is it?
She again lifts you off your feet and you feel yourself float, backwards
So you managed to knock over my pot, and you won't end up as soup after all. No matter. You may have stopped me physically, but I've already conquered you mentally. I can see your thoughts, Scarlett Sky.
I can taste your fantasies.
I see what you dream about.
I know what you masturbate to
You can't hide from me.
Why don't you let me help you let your greatest fantasy come true
You try and resist but you feel her words begin to hypnotize you a heaviness coming over your eyes
That's it. That's it. All. You little snuffetts all have a specific fantasy in mind. Yours is an oven roast, isn't it? I can roast you in an oven. That's fine. I'll let you even orgasm over and over and over. Thank you. Until you're nothing more but roasting meat
You feel yourself hovering in the air again, but this time you're light on your back as your arms are brought close to your body and your knees into your chest. She snaps a finger and some twine exits a kitchen drawer and begins to wrap around your body
That's right, you want to be a nice roast. Nice! Nice tasty slow cook dinner. You were nearly roasted 2 days ago weren't you and you were ready to give in? You are willing to accept that fate and now I am going to roast you at each you all up. You're just going to be a pile of Bones by the end of the day. The room goes dark for a moment and as it illuminates a giant oven that was not there before appears, a wood flame flaming it and heating it from underneath
You feel yourself begin to hover towards it as a roasting pan is split out from a tray, vegetables dance from her garden and lime betray as you hover along. You feel your eyes glaze over as you are lold to sleep.
Good little roaster sleep now tight
You're going to be my dinner tonight
Don't you fret about your fate
Because on this day we have a dinner date
Oh I've definitely got you now. In just a few hours, the only thing left of you is going to be phones picked clean on a plate platter
You'll feel your eyes roll back into your head and your body near orgasm as she slides you into her giant brick oven. The flames immediately kiss and cook your skin as you quiver in the heat as you roast alive
Now it's you who can't escape the mirage. That's the difference. I know what's reality and what's not. I know the way out. You were a prisoner of your own hell.
hat's reality and what's not. I know the way out. You were a prisoner of your own hell.You feel yourself sliding in the oven, the flames searing your flesh as the intense heat cooks you instantly. You realize you won't last a minute in here until you pass out, and then, once your golden brown, this witch will eat every part of you this night.
No matter how much you try and convince yourself the oven isn't real, you realize Abutit is right. You absolutely BELIEVE it - you've wanted to roast in an oven for years, and you've masturbated to this type of submission a thousand times over - you absolutely cannot convince yourself it doesn't exist. It's an impossible hurdle for you to scale.
As surrender begins to set in, you close your eyes to think. There HAS to be a solution. There HAS to be a way out of this.
*If I can't convince myself the oven isn't real...then...maybe...yes, that's it...*
You paint your best mental picture, and when open your eyes again, you are startled that your plan worked—that what you envisioned has become reality.
"WHAT?! How could this be?!" Abutit cries out.
"It's like you said. I decide what is real here and what isn't. The oven IS my greatest fantasy, I'll admit. I can't make it go away because it's part of me..."
Abutit’s eyes widen.
"...but I can decide who is in it."
You watch as Abutit is now the one roasting in the stone oven, flames dancing around her body, the scent of her ancient flesh roasting filling your nostrils.
"This isn't real... this OVEN isn't real!" Abutit says, trying to raise her hand to use her magic, but the Aura of Varde does not appear.
"It's as real as I believe it is. And, for better or for worse, for me, that belief is inescapable."
Abutit's cloak bursts into flames, and she screeches out words in a language that time has long forgotten. You watch, with some regret, as she writhes in pain while the flames consume her. Instead of changing into roasting meat or bones, she simply dissolves into a pile of ash.
As your body softens, the threat seemingly over, the floorboards at your feet begin to quake, and you can see the walls of the cottage moving. You go to step toward the door, but you notice that the archway is gone, the entire structure blurring, like an ocean wave has blown through it and is dragging it down the current.
You stand and look around in amazement as the entire cabin evaporates around you.
Seconds later, almost all of it is gone. You're standing in the sunlight, with just some broken wood at your feet and remnants of the original brick that once held the cottage together, hundreds of years ago. You realize that this is how the cabin looked when you first saw it, before she saw you. It appears that this cabin, at least in reality, hasn't actually existed in centuries.
"Was any of it real?" you ask yourself.
You take a step to leave and step on a crumpled newspaper. As you pick it up, you recognize the word "Abutit" in some of the print—but the rest of it is illegible. No, not illegible, just backwards, you realize, as you're reading it from the wrong side.
"Did she realize that she was saying her name backwards, or was it just another one of her mind tricks?" you say to no one as you let the paper fall from your hands.
"I don't think that even she knew anymore."
Your body jolts as you raise your guard, turning to face the direction where the voice came from, in the direction the cauldron was once placed.
The only thing you see is a bright light, bouncing softly in the air and floating towards you. Then, a second. Dozens. Hundreds of lights, all different colors, fly out of the space—their energy rising by the second, an energetic bounce as they race to dance around you. You allow your hands to lower, realizing there is something happening in this moment, something that feels joyful.
"Thank you so much. You freed us. We're actually FREE!" one of the lights says.
"Freed you? Who, or what, are you?" you say back.
"We are what's left of every person Abutit consumed in her lifetime. You can call us spirits, or ghosts, or whatever you choose to believe in. It's not enough for her to consume flesh; she has to consume your essence, your living soul, for her to sustain herself. We've been trapped inside of her, well..."
The light stops bouncing up and down, and it dims just a bit.
"For how long?" you ask empathetically.
"…I've been a prisoner for 334 years. Stuck nourishing that vile witch in this place between Heaven and Hell. And now... now..."
The lights begin to dance up and down excitedly.
"...now we can finally die."
You feel an equal mix of happiness and sadness flood your body. It is a strange sensation, but not nearly as strange as everything that has happened over the last hour.
"I wasn't a superstitious person before today…” you say. “But, maybe there is an afterlife after all. Perhaps we can meet there one day, and you can tell me more about who you were—all of you, so that you can be properly remembered as what you were, and not what she made you become.”
"You can count on it. Just don't join us too quick, okay? Stop and smell the flowers. Fall in love. You never know how important those little moments are until you had your last."
You see one of the floating lights burn brighter than the rest for a fleeting second, before disappearing altogether. You watch as another goes, and then another, vanishing in a singular event from this plane of existence.
Soon, there is just one light—the one that thanked you. You feel it dance around you, circling you in a hug, its energy warm and comforting. It then also begins to brighten, holding on longer than the others, illuminating your smile, your hope, and your dreams—to live in the moment—before it, too, transports to whatever exists beyond this world.
You’ve somehow survived this strange encounter. You take one last look at this place, and see that the path has returned, and this time, the fork in the road has a clear route to a meadow—the meadow that Phoenix told you to look for. The lodge should be just beyond it, and, judging by the sun, you should arrive just before dinner.
Just in time to save Zoe.
{save to file: 'Save Your Progress Here.'}
[[Advance to: Thurs PM - Banquet Hall, Outside->Banquet Outside]]Just as the hostess comes over to greet you, you point in the direction of the bar and start walking. The hostess nods and takes the next customer behind you.
"Is this seat taken?" you ask on the empty side of the woman, who taps the empty stool and smiles sloppily.
"It's all yours, babe."
"Thanks. I'm Claire."
"Oh, hi, Claire. My name is—"
“AS I WAS SAYING...” the older man interrupts. “You'd be much better off with someone like ME making your decisions for you."
The woman nearly falls out of her chair, clearly drunk.
“I’m just saying...” the woman says with a slur. “I do really want to get married. It's just hard to find someone I can really trust”
“Oh, you can trust me, I’m going to take care of everything very shortly.”
The older man grins and looks the woman up and down. As the bartender comes over, you've got a feeling she's going to be dinner VERY soon if you don't do something.
You hatch a plan.
"Hey, stud, what about eating me instead?"
"He's not trying to eat me, he's trying to marry-"
"Sold."
The woman grabs her purse and storms out of the restaurant.
"On second thought, I think I'll get eaten later."
You rush outside to catch up with the woman, who is wiping tears out of her eyes.
“Hey, thanks for getting me out of that." shes says. I almost lost my head for a second.”
“It’s all right. This is a really dangerous place, and it’s easy to get carried away.”
“Literally. I’m pretty sure that man was about to order me. It’s just hard, you know? Being a woman all alone in Dolcett for all my life.”
“Yeah, but...”
You pause for a second, as her words don’t exactly line up with your expectations.
“I really do need to get married someday. Sooner or later, I’m going to slip up, and I’m just going to get eaten at some restaurant. If I’m married, at least I’ll be safe.”
“Aren’t you planning to get married back in North Carolina?”
You look at her finger and notice that there is no engagement ring.
“North Caroline? What is that?”
Your posture slumps as you realize you’ve saved the wrong woman. Zoe Sanders is likely being dined on at this exact moment.
“But really, thank you." she continues. If you hadn’t joined us, I would probably be being eaten right now.”
As she stumbles down the street, you try and take solace that you at least saved someone.
GAME OVER. ZOE WAS EATEN.
Epilogue:
At the exact moment you were able to get the woman from the bar to safety in the street, Zoe Sanders was carried into the kitchen of Cochinillo Assado to be slaughtered.
“Hey, what’s the big idea? All I said was I’d do anything for my new friends, so I don’t know why I’m being thrown out.”
“Oh, we’re not throwing you out. We’re bringing you to the kitchen.”
“Oh? I’m getting the grand tour, huh? Florida is so fun!”
The chef only responds with a laugh.
“Yeah, the grand tour, all right. You're going to see the whole place - inside and out.”
The head chef hoists Zoe up by the legs, leaving her dangling upside down over a sink.
“Now, why would you do that? My whole world looks like it’s upside down from here!”
Zoe feels a sharp stinging at her neck, like a mosquito has bit her from her left ear to her right ear, and she raises her arm to give it a scratch. But her arm suddenly feels very weak, and it droops lifelessly beside her. She feels a curious tickle at her wrists, but has no energy left to scratch.
*“I’m so tired…”* Zoe tries to say, but can only think as she cannot vocalize the words.
That is, of course, because her neck and wrists have been slit, and she is being bled out before she is butchered into cuts for tonight’s meal.
Zoe had traveled on a final girls’ trip before her wedding, one last free weekend of fun before settling down and starting a family. Now, she will settle down in dozens of diners’ stomachs, just another featured cut on the night’s menu.
********
[[Checkpoint: Monday PM, Cochinillo Assado ->Enter Restaurant New]]You sign your name without a second thought as Sam looks over the paperwork and places it in a fax machine for verification.
“All right, Scarlett, right? This way. I’ll take you to the waiting area.”
You’re stripped naked and led into a “staging area,” where three other women are gathered, waiting for the hunt to begin. You’ve got a little time to kill and decide that some conversation about strategy might be in order.
Just as you decide to speak to one of the three ladies, the door flings back open. You’re surprised that the hunt is starting so quickly, and you might have missed your opportunity to gain—
You're clubbed in the back of the neck with a batron, and fall unconscious to the staging area floor.
“Scarlett Sky, huh? You’re a runaway, you know that? Subjugated five years ago, and yet you’re still alive? Not for long. I can promise you that.”
You're slung over one of Sam's associates' back as you're carried out of the staging area and outside to a wooden room where smoke billows overhead. Just as you're about to be brought inside, Sam pauses a second squeeze your naked flesh.
“This one’s a little tough. Too much exercise. But that’s okay; I don’t mind having something to chew on while I work at the desk.”
You're brought inside and you begin to cough immediately as smoke floods your lungs. You wake as you're hung by the ankles, the door slamming behind you as you're left to smoke alive. You feel all of the water instantly sweat out of you, your body pouring with salt and water until you literally up. You feel your skin begin to crack from the intensity of the dry air and darken from the heat.
At one point, you scream out in agony, with the hot air rushing in and turning your air sacs into hard brittle tissue. A desperate asping sound turns into a barren cough, heat escaping your nose and mouth with every breathe as your lungs cook from the inside.
No amount of lotion would ever solve what happens to you next. But the plans for how you will be served have nothing to do with remaining moist and flavorful. As Sam said, you're going to be made into something to slowly chew on once you're dehydrated and sliced for preservation.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Sam, the huntmaster, leans over his desk and stares aimlessly out the window. He fidgets with paperwork as he waits for the latest round of hunters and does to complete their hunt. He checks his watch and sees that the next round is not due for another hour. There isn't much to do, as he considers taking a turn with the hunter's relief woman, some semen still dripping out of two of her holes as she groans quietly.
He shrugs and pulls a bag from underneath the counter. He dips his hand in and pulls out a large chunk of Scarlett jerky, tearing it with his teeth and chewing it loudly as your flavor slowly drips onto his tongue and down his throat. He nods to himself as he places one hand on his chin and continues to stare aimlessly out the window, his hunger finally satiated by your dehydrated, dried, smoked flesh.
************
[[Checkpoint: Redwood Hunting Co ->Hunt Sign Up]]"Slit my belly first," you whisper out.
Charlene leans back, her face in shock.
"Scarlett, my little masochist. WHAT did you just say?"
"Goodness..." Jenna says, starting to rub herself.
"I said...slit me open first. I want to...feel it."
"Well...we WOULD have to empty out your pan, and that would take a few minutes, but I have to admit...I've wanted to see your face as I cut you from breastbone to naval for years..."
Charlene nods to Jenna, who begins to unpack your roasting tray. You've bought yourself a few minutes, but going in the oven would've absolutely been the end for you. The question now is - do you even want to escape, and if you did, how on earth could you do it?
You shake in the pan, the passage of time a blur as Charlene returns with a knife sharpener. The scraping of the blade is loud, stinging, final. She stares into your eyes with each repetition, her face obscured by the movement for just a second.
It's just you, her, and the knife now.
"She's ready, Mistress."
"Not yet, pet. Bring me some bags. I'm planning to save her organs for later."
"Yes, Mistress."
Just the thought of your organs being stored for future meals, Charlene's white teeth tearing through your liver and heart, sends your brain back into a spiral. You feel your navel stick out, and you close your eyes, ready for the end.
The sound of the scraping stops. You feel the tip of her knife pressing into your sternum. Her hand again presses at the entrance of your soaked, leaking cunt.
"I'm going to make sure you climax just as I press inside you - both at your belly, and into your filet. You're going to feel a mix of pleasure and pain that will rip through you as I tear your organs out, and when you're done releasing, YOU will be released from any other existence other than my dinner.”
You only gasp in one final bracing inhale in response, knowing your exhale will only be in death.
Charlene's eyes are ravenous with anticipation.
"I FINALLY did it. I finally got YOU. I'm finally going to..."
DING DONG.
Charlene pauses as her eyes shoot towards the door.
DING DONG.
"Our guest is early, Jenna. Please stall her while I get our bird stuffed."
Jenna looks down at her phone and shows Charlene the doorbell camera.
"It's not who we were expecting..."
Charlene looks at the video, and her eyes narrow, her wheels turning.
"Bring her inside. I'd love for her to join us, ALL of us, before the end."
You hear the knife slam down on the counter as Charlene walks out of your vision.
All you can do is wait, lying in the pan, lingering. When you hear her voice, you can only sigh in frustration.
"Oh my GOODNESS, Scarlett! What are you doing? Get out of that pan! I'm going to save you!"
"Save her?!" Charlene says with a grin. "Oh, my sweet little morsel. Why don't you ask my sweet little roaster how she ended up in this pan?"
Zoe appears in your vision, peering down at you, her concern growing.
"Is it true?"
"You shouldn't be here, Zoe."
"She doesn't want to be anywhere else. Speaking of..." Charlene says as you notice that her eyes are completely locked on Zoe now, instead of on you. "…you’re looking rather delicious. How old are you, my dear?"
"Twenty-four. Why?" Zoe responds innocently, her face flushing.
"Stay AWAY from her, Charlene!" you yell helplessly from your pan.
"THAT will be a difficult thing to do, with such a supple little soupbone walking right into my house. It's been far too long since I had a new pet..."
Jenna gulps loudly.
"You don't tell me what to do," Zoe snaps back before looking to you for guidance.
"Tell her, Scarlett."
[[Plead with Zoe to leave immediately. Offer yourself freely to Char. Say whatever you have to get Zoe to go home safely. ->Scarlett Plea]]
[[Admit that it's Zoe's decision whether she stays or goes, knowing that she is unlikely to leave your side—inside or outside Charlene's oven. ->Love or Lust]]"I'm just waiting for you to be the one to fuck my throat, daddy."
Zoe watches as the lead guard reaches in his pants, eager to pull his cock out, but then pauses.
"Sure you are, but that doesn't explain why you're a sow and can talk."
Zoe watches helplessly as the lead guard snaps his head around, just in time to see Puma making her advance toward the control board.
"STOP HER!"
Zoe freezes in fear as Puma draws her Chanirs from her hip pockets as two guards rush her. Zoe feels a rush of excitement for a moment as Puma is able to cut two of them down with ease, their blood splattering on the radio tower floor. A third rushes to the control board, but Puma launches a Chanir into his chest.
Zoe feels herself lifted by the jaw and held in front of the last remaining guard as he runs toward the control board. She’s then hurled in the air and on top of Puma, knocking them both to the ground. Zoe scrambles to get up, but just as she gets to her feet, the wailing sound of a man repeatedly saying, "Calm down," overwhelms her ability to think, and she collapses to the ground.
Zoe looks over at Puma and sees her writhing in pain as well, realizing she has failed. She quickly thinks of all the people she has let down in this moment as tears fill her eyes. She is more disappointed in failing Scarlett and the LFD than she by the thought that she will never see her husband again.
GAME OVER. ZOE WAS EATEN.
Epilogue:
"Do you miss her?"
Zoe's future husband, Brian, sits with his feet up in the living room of his comfortable home in North Carolina. He doesn't look over at his best friend, Jake, as they stare intently at the college football game playing on this Saturday afternoon.
"Sure, I miss her. It sucks having to get up and get my own beers."
They both laugh.
"Seriously, though, the big day is only, what, three, four months away?"
"...something like that."
"You're not getting cold feet or anything like that?"
"Nah. Zoe's a very good girl. I really feel like I found my partner."
Jake leans over and lifts his beer bottle toward Brian, and they clink in celebration.
"I'm happy for you, man."
"Yeah. After she finishes this girls' trip, she'll be back at home. I’m surprised she even went, she’s really uncomfortable making decisions without my help."
"Man, you sure got lucky with such a demure woman."
"The thing is..." Brian says as he leans over to Jake. "...you have to tell women what to do. All women are obedient deep down; they just need to find the right man to take them by the hand."
A big play happens, and they both stop to cheer.
"You were saying?" Jake asks, his interest piqued.
"So, when I first met Zoe, she REALLY didn't know what she wanted. Part of her wanted to try college. Part of her wanted to travel the world. I had to help her sift through all of that and settle down where she truly belongs."
"Which is?
"The kitchen, of course."
Jake laughs as Brian grins.
"You've got to have her thinking it's all HER idea, too. She thinks when we went house hunting, that I was letting her decide. And as a good provider, I let her live that fantasy. That way, when she's spends the rest of her life slaving over a hot stove, she will think it was HER choice."
"You're diabolical, Brian.” Jake says as he grabs his phone. “Speaking of - did you see what happened in that country where they eat women? They tried to rise up and overthrow all of the men."
"Let me guess. They got put RIGHT in their place.” Brian says dismissively.
"Sure did. They even got cooked in the town square."
"Well, serves them right. If you ask me, that country got it right. Women there aren't even allowed to speak out; otherwise, they get replaced. I could see myself living there…”
Brian takes a long drink of his beer, his eyes wandering into a daydream.
“Heck, maybe Zoe and I will move there. She’d fit right in there, I bet. At least, until I got bored of her, and then she’d fit in somewhere ELSE.” Brian says as he pats his stomach.
"Damn, Brian, you don't think that's too extreme?"
"Nah. It's the natural order."
"Hey, check this out. This bald one kind of looks like Zoe."
Brian stares at the photo of Zoe, shaved bald, being marched off to slaughter.
"No, that's not my Zoe.” Brian says as he studies the image. “That woman looks like she thought she was special. My Zoe knows better."
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Friday AM: Inside the Parade ->Assault]]You're able to meet her diving attack with a foot to her chest just as she's about to stab through you, launching her off her feet and onto her back. You then swing your hips around to slash at her legs, but she is able to raise her hips just in time. As Puma rolls onto her back, she launches her body forward, her knife in position as she flies through the air and on top of you.
“Ugkkkk!” you utter, the sound of the wind being knocked out of your chest as you lie pinned in defeat.
“No...” Zoe laments. “Scarlett...”
“YES. I HAVE WON. I HAD ALWAYS WON - BUT NOW THERE CAN BE NO DOUBT. EVERYTHING IS AS IT SHOULD BE!”
Puma’s words echo through the Sleeping Willow Forest, which offers no response. You only have seconds to live, and you spend them staring at Zoe, and the challenge that now awaits her.
You die accepting that she will soon be digested in Puma's stomach beside you.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
"What happens to me now?"
The forest is quiet. There isn't a sound—not a gust of wind, a crackle of leaves, or a bird flying through the sky. All the sounds of nature are silent.
The breaking of branches and the crashing through brush are the only sounds created by man. Or, more specifically, by a woman, as Zoe runs through the forest. Her breathing is loud, her sobbing persistent, and she doesn't make a single quiet step as she races, hoping to find the end of the woods.
Hoping to escape the hunt she has now been placed in.
She leans against a tree as she finds herself completely out of breath.
Just as she straightens back up, a knife flies through the air and pierces her directly through the neck, pinning her to the tree. She gasps, looking down at the blade and tries to pull it out, even as she struggles to breathe and blood runs down her neck.
Puma slowly walks up and locks eyes with Zoe as she helplessly remains in the place where she will die. Zoe hopes for some reprieve or some miracle that will save her life. But the last thing she sees is Puma's eyes.
The eyes of a hunter.
The eyes of someone who is never satisfied.
The eyes of someone who has given up any connection with who she really was.
These eyes don't see Zoe as a person, nor do they see her potential or her future. Instead, they seek out the tenderness of her flesh. They scan her body, and her tongue juts out as she's eager to have her first taste of Zoe's meat.
Zoe's body goes limp, and she dies realizing that Puma sees her for only one purpose—dinner. She has a sad realization: her only existence in life, whether she had gone home to her husband or died here in this forest, was to serve another. She feels that she was capable of being more, just on the brink of becoming something greater.
Her body goes limp, and she dies.
Left to be consumed by the dweller of the forest that no longer speaks.
*********************
[[Checkpoint: Friday PM, Sleeping Willow Forest ->Puma Battle Intro]]You try to stammer a lie out of your lips, but just a jumble of half-finished sentences exits your lips as you feel yourself slipping away with each attempt at dishonesty.
If anything, lying repeatedly draws you closer and closer to the truth. To the inevitability and undeniability of your true purpose.
Finally, flustered, your admission pours out.
“You’re right about everything, Char. I can’t fight it anymore…”
Char holds her two fingers out in front of you and you bite your lip as you walk over and impale yourself on your hand, any remaining resistance washing out of your mind.
GAME OVER. YOU WERE EATEN.
Epilogue:
Charlene pulls up a chair and watches eagerly as you roast in the oven. You stopped squirming a couple of minutes ago, and your body lies motionless as you doze while cooking. She taps on her wine glass and takes a sip, counting down the minutes until she can dig into your flesh.
DING DONG
Charlene looks up at the sound of her doorbell and, without turning her head, gestures to Jenna to answer it.
"We have a guest, Mistress," Jenna says.
"Oh? She must be here early, then. We weren't expecting her until—"
"Oh my GOODNESS... Scarlett?"
Charlene turns her head in surprise and sees Zoe standing in her atrium.
"Well, what a delicious little surprise. Look what just wandered into my lair."
Charlene begins to saunter toward Zoe. Zoe remains mesmerized, her eyes locked on the red oven where you roast silently and motionlessly.
"I'm going to be brave... I'm going to save you, Scarlett. I just need to be willing to—"
Zoe suddenly gasps and makes a gurgling sound as her head go stiff, her gasping for air like a fish on a hook. Charlene grins as she slides her so fingers so deep inside of Zoe that she nearly lifts off the ground.
“Holy moly... that feels... so... so...”
“It feels better than being touched by any man, doesn't it, darling?” Charlene teases.
“Yes... it's so... so...”
Charlene continues to knead inside Zoe until she literally quivers and quietly cums on her hand. Zoe’s eyes glaze over and she looks eagerly at Charlene, her only remaining need being her next release.
“It's been FAR too long since I've had a new pet…” Charlene says as bops Zoe on the nose. I think I'm going to keep you and play with you for a while and then...”
Jenna walks over, her legs shaking and head bowed.
“But Mistress, please, I'm still useful...”
“Don't you worry your pretty little head, darling. WE are business partners now, remember? I need you to get business back to the way it used to be in North Carolina.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
“But, this one…”
Zoe's eyes roll back in her head as a second orgasm nears.
“This one…I'm going to keep for my play thing. And then when the time comes, I'm going to roast her for my dinner.” Charlene says with a grin. “What a wonderful day this has turned out to be...”
Charlene sneaks a glance at you roasting in the oven, and then a devilish grin flashes on her face.
“…speaking of.” Charlene says, a sinister look on her face as she turns to her new pet. “Zoe, darling, please join us for dinner this evening. “We're having Roast Scarlett. I’m sure she would be delighted for you to be served a plate.”
Zoe’s eyes wander to your cooking flesh and she licks her lips, the taste of Puma fresh on her tongue.
“Yes, Mistress, I’d love to dine on Scarlett this night.”
*****************
[[Checkpoint: Saturday AM, Charlene's Kitchen ->HomeC Clean]]As the gorgeous blonde raises her glass, the trembling woman reaches her as well, the ice clinking against the glass. You quickly intervene, snatching the drink out of her hands, and raise it to the table.
“To new friends,” you say.
You raise the glass to your lips, and you see the eyes of the blonde and the couple widen, but they aren't staring at you.
They are looking at the woman to your left, who downs her drink like a shot.
"Delicious. You guys are SO fun.!" she exclaims.
You notice her begin to wobble immediately, slumping over for a second but slowly blinking and giggling to herself.
You realize you swapped the wrong drink, but it's not too late to save her.
"Okay, let's get you out of here," you say, trying to get her on her feet.
"What? I'm having FUN. I like my new friends!" she protests.
"These people aren't your friends. They're trying to eat—"
"EAT?! I'm starved."
"Oh, really. What's your favorite food?" the blonde asks, her excitement clearly growing.
"Oh, um, something homemade, hearty. I'm a fall girl... Gosh, maybe a nice pot roast? Served with some mashed potatoes and gravy. I love mashed potatoes," the girl says as her head falls back and she snores loudly for a breath before snapping back awake.
"Well, you know what they say..." the blonde says. "You taste best with what you think tastes best. I'll make sure you're served right on top of a dollop of mashed potatoes, Zoe."
Your eyes light up. You've found her.
"Thanks, I really like—"
Zoe face-plants on the table, spilling what's left of her drink. Before you can act, two waiters rush over, pick her up, and carry her to the kitchen.
You stand and follow, determined not to give up, but feel a tug at your wrist.
"Hey, don't beat yourself up over it. There's nothing you could have done. Being eaten is inevitable for all of us," she says with a shrug.
"I don't know if I believe that," you say as you pull your wrist away.
"I think you do. The only choice a woman has here is which side of the experience to be on—the one eating or the one BEING eaten."
You feel a rush of excitement flow up your spine for just a second.
You hear a squeal from the kitchen and realize you've lingered too long.
"Where are YOU rushing off to?" you hear over your shoulder. "We haven't even had a chance to order you yet."
As you approach the door to the kitchen, you see through the window that Zoe's neck has already been slit, the teasing conversation being just long enough for her to be snuffed.
It’s probably for the best. You'd likely be hung beside her if you had gone in after her.
GAME OVER. ZOE WAS EATEN.
Epilogue:
The now four diners at the six top lean back in their chairs, their bellies engorged and straining against their clothing as they sip their drinks. The blonde woman who sealed Zoe’s fate burps loudly as she looks through glossy eyes and reaches for a rib off of the platter at the center of the table.
Their former friend has been picked over as a torso roast that they eagerly consumed. They’ve also been offered unlimited complimentary drinks as a thank-you from the restaurant for processing not one, but two “bring a friend” specials that night.
There is no more conversation, no more flirting, nothing else to do but wait until the platter of picked-over bones is taken away and a new platter is set in the center. They all lean in curiously, staring at the bed of mashed potatoes with a hearty serving of Zoe roast beef resting on top, her gravy and juices soaking in below.
"I'm so glad I saved just a little bit of space for this," the blonde says.
"Yeah, I was going to go home, but that girl was far too good not to eat," the man says as he picks up a fork.
"Gosh, this is going to be delicious. You never eat me like this, do you, babe?"
"No, not like this. I have other plans for you."
"HEY! That's not nice."
"Yeah, well, it wasn't nice what we did to Carlee either," the raven-haired girl says as she picks up a fork, scoops up a hunk of Zoe's flesh, and slides it into her mouth.
They all take turns forking over some of Zoe's pot roast and sliding it into their mouths. They remark that she indeed tastes best with creamy mashed potatoes underneath her.
The rest of Zoe is portioned out for the night service. You are already on your way home, staring vacantly into the distance at the airport, questioning whether anything you've done over the last five years has truly mattered.
********
[[Checkpoint: Monday PM, Cochinillo Assado ->Enter Restaurant New]]