The Conversion of Kimberly

Tale by Green Eyes and BBQ Chef

The Conversion of Kimberly/

Kimberly arrived home at her apartment, after a long day on the job. Her grey haired and bespectiled, superintendent, met her at the glass security door. "Hello dear," she said, greeting her with an apologetic smile.

"Hi Rose," the pretty brunette replied, intuitively noting Rose's expression. "How was your day?" she smiled, glancing at her mail box. "Fine dear," came the response, as she held up a handfull of envelopes. "I have your mail here, Kimberly." She allowed her tenant to take it before continuing. "Sorry to be the bearer of bad knews, but there was a special delivery today for you and I signed for it," she waited as Kimberly's eyes came to rest on the top manilla envelope. "It's from the State Selection Agency." She supplied as Kimberly began to comprehend what she held in her hands. Opening the envelope and unfolding the neatly folded paper within, she scanned the top of it and her eyes went wide. She gasped reading the top notation. State Meat Selection Agency, Selection for Conversion. Her jaw dropped as she read further; it was her name, her address, her social insurance number. There was no mistake. She was ordered to report for conversion, a manner of saying that her designation had gone from being a woman to being considered surplus, and now she was to be converted to meat. It stunned her, she knew mentally, that any woman could be declared surplus by the state and sent to slaughter, but she still didn't believe it. "I've always thought you would make a beautiful meal dear," Rose cooed, giving her an appraising look and squeezing her arm. "Th-thanks," Kimberly stammered, still holding the letter. "I guess I should go get ready," she said, looking at the elderly woman. "Certainly," Rose's eyes followed her form as she walked past her. "Oh; who's packing you Kimberly?" Rose called after her. "Hills," Kimberly replied simply, half-turning to speak to her. "I'm sure they'll do a fine job," Rose nodded to herself, shuffling back into her apartment. * * * Kimberly's keys jingled in the lock as she pushed her door inward. The thought struck that this would be one of the last times that she ever entered her home. Kicking off her shoes and setting down her purse on the entryway table, she strode into the interior of the apartment. A long sigh escaped her lips as she flopped into an armchair quickly flipping through the remainder of her mail - not that it mattered much. When she registered at 18, a sort of will had been drawn up for this contingency, her things would be taken care of. Rose would allow her father into her apartment to do what was necessary. Among the rest of her mail was a flyer for a grocery store, a glaring reminder her of her fate. It advertised a sale on fillets for 11.99 a pound on the front page. She sighed again, considering her own for a moment and deciding to rise to check her body. Putting down the mail, she trailed off into her bedroom to strip and examine herself in the mirror. She was attractive, slim with long subtle curves, taut from almost daily work-outs at the gym. Teaching aerobics on the side had kept her toned and in shape. Her pubic mound was smooth as she found more men liked her that way, she fluttered her fingers along her sex lips and found to her surprise that she was, despite her new circumstances, just a little damp. She recalled the stories of what it was like in a factory from her days of college. Tales of earth-shattering final orgasms, also tales of being treated like property by emotionless workers. She didn't know what to believe, sighing she lifted and weighed her breasts, before letting them drop; pert and well-formed she was not boxum like many women strove to be. Running a hand down her side she decided that if nothing else she would at least have one last trip to the spa before reporting. She heard the hair removal techniques in the factories were basic and could be a little rough. The letter had said to report at 11:30 in the morning, she had just enough time for a trip to the spa if she could get the day's first appointment. Tomorrow would be Wednesday, she didn't think it would be too hard to get in. Sitting down on her bed and crossing her legs, she fished a book of numbers from her night table and called the spa. She was rather surprised to find they had a meat prep special for women just in her circumstance. She could have a body dipilatation, facial, manicure, pedicure, body wrap, and have her make-up done all before 11. With money being no object anymore, the brunette booked the package, happy to have so much done before her time. She called her father, he was very understanding, having 3 daughters, he expected at least 2 of them to be converted. Kimberly's mother had been converted when she was 29. He made certain that she had his correct postal code for the conversion cheque they would be receiving after she was processed. She made the long distance call to her boyfriend and thanked her lucky stars to catch him home. He expressed regret wishing that he could have been there for one last night together and a chance to sample her but he wished her well. Deciding to have last night out on the town. She showered and got ready, wearing a little black dress and sheer black stockings to attract one last fuck. She found him in a bar and he made her last night incredible. She came twice, he was encouraged by her wanton enthusiasm, in the morning he was gone and she was feeling wonderful. The spa depilated her legs, her underarms, and her sex. She was given a body wrap and a facial. They gave her a manicure and a pedicure. Finally she finished with having her hair and make-up done. Dressed prettily, she took a cab from the spa to the packer and arrived with 10 minutes to spare. Chapter 2 Kimberly paid her fare, tipping the driver generously before going to an outside door seperate from the packer's reception area. The door she stood at displayed the rather unceremonious sign, 'receiving'. She glanced up to the enormous sign at the driveway entrance and saw Merle Hill's familiar smiling face, plastered over a plate of roasted filet. Turning her back on the sign, she went in. The place was set up like a government licence bureau with multiple clerks working windows at a long counter. There was a line up at the right to the door that was pushing forward at a steady pace, she was relieved she didn't have to wait too long. The girls in the line were of various descriptions, some lithe like her, others voluptuous, some atheletic, some tall, some short, white, black, asian, hispanic, blondes, brunettes, red-heads, the place didn't discriminate, she mused to herself. Most were dressed nicely, some were elegant, others were casual, she herself, wore a more casual outfit of a white tee and light blue mini skirt, white stockings and light blue stiletto heels that brought her height to almost to 6 feet and emphasized the curves of her long legs.. A part of her hoped that how she was dressed would make some kind of difference in her reception and treatment. Moving up in line, Kimberly was met at one of the kiosks by a middle-aged matronly looking woman, curly haired and prim she asked for Kimberly's conversion letter and quickly received it. "You're Kimberly Jay?" she asked, looking at the form letter. "Yes," she nodded, swallowing, studying her face with curiousity, wondering how many girls she had to keep track of through a day. She checked Kimberly's name, social security number and registration number against a computer screen. "Alright, you've come to the right place. Step back against that screen and look at the red light of the camera." Kimberly complied immediately, stepping back as her picture was snapped in two rapid flashes, from two lenses. One focusing on her from the shoulders up and the other the length of her. The receptionist didn't bother to explain the reason for the photographs, she just typed in a few keys as the digital photos appeared on her computer screen and handed Kimberly back her letter. "Get in that line there and step up at to the first available processor," she pointed to a line only a few feet away, that lead up a set of stairs to another desk. The women in line were chatting quietly, the girl at the desk, a curvy, atheletic blonde was undressing, depositing her coverings in various hampers, shoes in one, lingere in another and her outer garments in a third. Kimberly was forced to shift in her place in line and could no longer see the top of the stairs where the activity was going on, there was a wiff of cool air and the smell of raw meat in the air every few moments as she stepped up the stairs, her heels clicking and scraping on each of their concrete surfaces. There was conversation among the girls on how long it would take and what would happen to them, speculation on how it would be done and what grades they would each get. Kimberly wasn't sure where she would end up or how long it would take to get there. She watched impassively as the girl in front of her was processed. Petite and with sand coloured hair, she tried to guess where she would end up as she stripped nude at the desk of the clerk closest to her. She didn't have time to speculate very long as a light appeared over a desk further along the line of registration desks, signaling the desk was open to process the next conversion, in this case, it was her. Walking past three other desks with girls before them in various states of undress and conversion, Kimberly looked at the face of the man behind the desk. He was swarthy, middle-aged and slightly overweight, wearing a navy uniform work shirt. She was on pins and needles as he sat typing something into his computer. Barely looking up to acknowledge her, he held out his hand, "Paper please." The brunette complied immediately placing it in his hand, nibbling her lower lip nervously as she did so. She waited as he worked, her heart speeding up, butterflies in her stomach. He scanned the registration number, typing it with practiced dexterity on the computer's number pad. "You're Kimberly?" he asked, looking at the digital photos that came up and then up at her. "Yes," she replied softly, her voice seeming to have disappeared in her throat. "By order of the state you are hereby converted," he announced to her without anymore ceremony than to loudly stamp the letter she had presented him and add it to a pile in box to be processed by some other clerk. "Remove all clothing, and place them in the hampers as labelled. Any jewelry give to me and it will be sent back to any benificiaries you have on file." He had a sheaf of manilla envelopes on a shelf at his desk, ready to be pulled out and stapled to her form if need be. Kimberly's eyes fluttered, the stamping sound thundering in her ears, "Ok..." she replied softly. Stepping out of her shoes she stood in her stockings , the concrete cold on the soles of her feet. She glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention before she began by unbuttoning and unzipping her skirt to let it slip down her sleek thighs and shapely calves, before stepping out of it and dropping it into the basket. "Come on sow, we don't have all day. You're meat now, no need for modesty," the man remarked impatiently from the desk. Kimberly froze in mid-step, her eyes going wide at being called 'sow'. She caught her breath and glanced sideways at the other women who were hastily undressing and she mimiced them, her other clothing quickly being drawn off and deposited in the hampers. She turned around, shivering with the cool and with fear, her eyes wide as her hands fidgeted, unsure to cover herself or not. Her skin tingled with fear, but he seemed pre-occupied with matters before him on the desk. She figured he probably saw so many naked women in a day that she was like any other to him. Plucking the earrings from her ears, she dropped her hands to her sides she waited for a few seconds before he looked up at her. Wordless he took the earrings and dropped them into an envelope and stapled it to her form before he pressed the enter key on his console and there was a quick buzzing sound as a number and code was printed onto a plastic tag that dropped out a slot from a press behind him. "Step up to the desk and turn to the left," the clerk commanded; she promptly complied. He loaded the yellow plastic tag into a piercing gun and placed it to Kimberly's right earlobe, with a click and a grunt of discomfort from the girl converted to sow, a yellow tag now hung from her ear. It read, '989', marking her as sow 989 of the day's lot. Kimberly grimaced at the stinging in her right ear lobe, it felt like a hornet had stung her. She didn't have long to consider her discomfort as her body was quickly turned by her shoulder and and her wrists were seized. She grunted as cotton twine was doubled around each of her slender wrists and they were snugly pulled together, drawing her shoulders back and thrusting her breasts forward. "Ok 989, move through the plastic strips for grading," he directed with the pointing of his olive skinned finger. Wordlessly she obeyed, walking past 3 more desks where other girls were being converted to sows, her taunt bottom dimpling with each step. She glanced back at freedom one last time before pressing through the plastic strips hanging from the door frame and into the cool air of the factory beyond. Chapter 3 On the otherside of the plastic strips was a shortline leading to a set of scales. Just past the scales Kimbery could see a row of sows, their legs open, on a bench having the pubic hairs singed from their mounds to match Kimbery's already smoothed out mound. Beyond that she saw a row of sows bent over, heads in stocks,while they were tended to by white jacketed inspectors. Her heart fluttered as she followed the next girl in line to step up on the scales. The attendent scanned her heart tag and entered her weight of 130 pounds into a remote data pad. No sooner had she stepped off the scale when her arm was seized and she was turned to be examined quickly, a white coated inspector ran a practiced finger over her hairless sex and determined that she did not need to spend time on the bench before ushering her, quivering with the cold and shock, forward to the next available inspection station. "Feet in the two holes sow," he commanded gruffly, as Kimberly, dumbly looked to the floor. She looked at him wide eyed, before obeying. She stepped down into two ankle deep holes set in the floor. Kimberly struggled to keep her balance as she stretched her legs out wide into two yellow coloured indentations on the floor which in fact were pressure pads. After a few seconds, rubber lined manincles closed on her slender ankles from the sides of depressions with an audible 'click'. Her legs quivered as the muscles strained to support her. She felt a hand on the back of her neck, compelling her face downward. She realized, with sows on either side of her in a similar position that he wanted her in the lunette for inspection. She relented, bending at the waist, her legs quivering to support and balance her as her neck came to rest on the rubber covered lunette. She cringed as it's top was slammed down with a clang. Kimbery caught her breath, realizing her sex was now fully exposed. Her mouth gaped open as she tried calm herself, starring at the cinder block wall in front of her, wondering what would happen next. "Uh;" Kimberly moaned softly, getting her answer, feeling a cold metal instrument pressed against and through her sex lips. The device made her heart flutter with the cold that was now inside her. She realized it was a speculum. Feeling them manipulated, she was pried open, as an inspecter stood behind her, gazing with practiced eye inside her. She could hear his baritone voice. "Healthy, good colouration, prime filet." The speculum was closed and pulled free without ceremony. A hand was placed on her bottom, it was neither sensual or harsh, only clinical. It squeezed and then tugged, before releasing. "Good rump, well-formed." Then the owner of the voice appeared in her view. He was black, and shaved bald, he wore a white smock over a white uniform beneath. His fingers were on her lips, "Open," he commanded. She breathed an assent that came out almost as mew as he slipped two fingers into her mouth, running them around the circumference of her lips, checking her teeth and mouth. She felt like an animal and realized that she was! His finger were withdrawn and he wrote with a stylus on a wireless notepad. The hand slid under her chin, feeling before tracing along her spine, before reaching up and rising up along her satiny tummy. The hand reached her breasts, they pressed them and rolled them, before finding a nipple. It was tugged, she grunted, feeling something attacted and a soft suction. There was a gurgling sound, and Kimberly tensed, her nose crinkled up as she grimaced at the sensation. The same happened to her other breast. She could feel the presense of the inspector, though she could not see him, standing beside her. The suction last less than 10 seconds, before the vacuum cups were removed. "Looks like this one's not a milker," he said to someone else unseen. "Too bad, we have room in the dairy for 3 more," another voice replied, as her eyes darted left to right. She cursed her b cup breasts, wishing she was a c or d or whatever it took. "This one's good, grade A" the black inspector said, a upc scanning pen was pulled across her Kimberly felt a flicker of pride, then she grunted, feeling something pressed against her left buttock. "What's the routing on this sow?" he asked as she listened, still bent over in the inspection station. Her heart trembled, she was still getting used to being called 'sow'. "They 'got tourist buses in this afternoon, the restaurant needs roasters," the reply came as Kimberly gasped, remembering a time when she had taken a tour of Hills and what it meant for her. "Damn tourists;" her inspector cursed. "Still, they pay our bills." "Looks like spitting bay 3 is opening up in a minute," the other voice said. His anouncement eliciting another gasp from their sow. "Ok, this one is clean and ready to go, I'll walk her through." Kimbery felt the lunette around her neck release, a hand roughly took her shoulder and pulled her upright, the manicles around her ankles released and she was allowed to stand upright, her legs trembling from the strain of the inspection. She felt a little dizzy as the blood ran from her head. "Ok Jackson, don't forget the poker game tonight," the owner of the second voice said, his face finally visible to her. He was older than her inspector, but otherwise unremarkable. "I'll be there," Jackson said, taking hold of Kimberly's elbow. She was stunned that a poker game was more important than her. "Ok sow, let's get you on the spit. It's my lunch time soon," Jackson said, directing her away the inspecting area and through a doorway with a sign reading 'spitting' over it. Kimberly's heart really began to race, and she was unsure whether it was the cold concrete floor beneath her bare feet that chilled her to the bone, or how real her fate was becoming. She allowed herself to be lead, trembling to a work stall, a light, much like the one at the station where she was converted, signalled it was now available. They came to its opening and her eyes fluttered, she froze for a second, her eyes darting from a gleaming jessica 3000, the spitting machine, and the most recent occupant. She was being lifted off the machine, a long pole through her sex, stretching it. The spit emerged through her full lips. Her belly was distended and sewn up. Her breasts were heavy and a stablizer had been thrust inside her between the curves of her round buttocks. She glistened with perspiration. Kimberly startled when she looked into the blonde's pleading eyes and recognized her from the line. She was quickly carried past her, her flesh jiggling as she swayed. Her attention was drawn back to her own predicament by the machine's operator. "Ok Jackson, bring that one in here. Let's do her before the lunch whistle," the operator beckoned, waving them in. "Sure Bill," Jackson said, giving Kimberly a push forward, guiding her into the work station. "We'd hate to leave her strapped to this thing over lunch." Kimberly disagreed inwardly but said nothing, staring at the gleaming spitting machine as she stepped forward to the centre of the stall. "Ok sow, put your feet on the marks," Bill directed her as she placed her feet on a pair of yellow circles painted on the concrete at end of the machine. She glanced behind her at the racks of spits and the motor that pushed them. Their gleaming presense sent a chill through her. Turning, she regarded the metallic monster and the padded rest for her chest neck as a button was pushed on a set of controls hanging by a cord from the ceiling. "Uh!" she grunted as a metal bar swung down from behind her knees, knocking her forward onto pads for her knees. The steel bar pressed firmly into soft flesh above the curves of her calves and behind her knees. It held her firm, locking in place as she struggled to keep her balance. Seconds after a second bar, less dramatic then the first, pressed her forward with a padded roller. The fall forward onto the chest rest left her breathless. The pad seperated her breasts as the two men moved to secure her. She gurgled as a strap was pulled across the back of her neck, stretching it forward. A second strap stretched across her upper back as the bar that pressed her down pulled away, back to its station in the ceiling. Two more straps were wrapped about her legs, encircling each of her thighs, just above the knee. The straps tugged her thighs forward, pulling her bottom open, exposing her sex and secret button completely. She gasped and grunted feeling the straps tug her legs. Her eyes fluttered, feeling so exposed and vulnerable, even more than the inspection. Her sex dampened with the anticipation of the spit, the stories of college coming back to mind as her time drew near. "Start the breast filling cycle," she heard the operator command to her inspector, Jackson. "Right," came the reply. Jackson stepped up alongside of her, she could see him out of the corner of her eye. There was the click of a button being pushed then her breasts was taken in the man's large hands. She felt a suction on her nipple as what felt like milking tester was applied to her nipple. It gurgled and then ended with a 'thunk' tugging at her nipple in its centre. She felt the operator's presense on the other side of her doing the same. A second button was pushed and she let out a groan of pain, wincing, feeling a sharp, hot pain press through her nipples into her breasts. There was a click followed by a sound of an electric motor as her breasts began to heat up, being filled with heated butter and seasoning. They grew heavy and full, stretching until they hung plump. The machine seemed to have a built in guage and stopped automatically. The needles were withdrawn and hands gave her test squeezes, forcing a few droplets of butter from her nipples. She moaned, her breasts tender and swollen. Her moans were cut into by the sound of a loud horn. "Aw shit, lunch," Bill cursed, "I knew we weren't going to get this one done. We're going to have to leave it on until after." Then he added, "You know Jackson, spitting these sows all day is sure horney work." "I know what you mean," Jackson replied, smiling to at the encoded invitation. "I could sure use some relief." Kimberly listened intently, relieved despite her discomfort, wondering what it all meant. She heard Jackson comment, "These roasters sure look good." Then there was a slap that left her bottom stinging. She mewed nervously. Her protest brought no relief from the touching, instead, her stinging bottom was squeezed, before the hand glided over her bottom and down to her labia, his finger ran their length. "This sow's as ready as we are," he guffawed. "Probably heard all those stories about the ultimate fuck on the jessica," Bill chuckled, eliciting more guffaws. "Well, satisfaction is guaranteed," Jackson continued as Kimberly fruitlessly struggled, the fingers now pinching her sex lips. "I'm not that hungry, we can catch some lunch at our 2 o'clock break," the two men smiled at each other. "Sounds good," Jackson replied, as Kimberly heard some activity behind her. Then Jackson appeared in front of her. "Looks like today's your lucky day sow," he smirked down at her, pushing back his white work smock and undoing his pants. "You get an extra half an' hour." He pulled out a stinking, raging erection. Kimberly understood her role and oblidged him, parting her painted lips to receive the offered cock. "That's good sow, here comes your last meal," he chortled smuggly, pressing the thick, black head against her lips and into her mouth. She didn't have time to note the soury taste as a thick bulbous head probed and then pressed inside her vulnerable sex. "There you go sow," Jackson murmured, holding a hand full of her thick, brown hair as he pumped his hips into her mouth. "What does it matter eh? Soon you'll be roasting over the coals." The words were lost on Kimberly as she suckled the cock in her mouth, stretching her lips about its girth and stroking the underside with her tongue as the curves of her hips were seized the cock behind her pumped away. She felt herself impaled at both ends, like the spit that would soon be through her. "That's a good sow," Bill grunting, patting her bottom as he thrust. "In a few hours you'll be up one some table, feeding some fat tourists a sample of Hills Meats." Kimberly's sex grew wet from the friction despite his prediction. She moaned, her eyes fluttering, before closing to concentrate on the cock. The men just grunted, fucking her, not caring for her comfort or reaction, she was merely sow for them to release their noon-time tensions in. "Ugh, good sow, suck me, suck your butcher," Jackson grunted as Kimberly strainted to satisfy him, his cock prodding the back of her throat with every thrust. Kimberly's heart lept at his reaction, despite herself. She felt her own body rising to orgasm. "I think this sow's gonna cum," Bill groaned,"-And so am I." He grabbed her bottom harshly, stretching her open, watching his cock piston inside her. Her helpless anus winked at him as he held and tugged. She moaned, her heavy breasts swaying beneath her, the machine creaking and shifting from the thrusts, she felt a wave of pleasure wash over her. Flushed pink and feeling electrified she moaned with pleasure. "That's right you piece of meat, have your last cum. We don't mind; you're nothing to us. Just fucking cum." Jackson growled, his own orgasm nearing as his cock twitched in her mouth. Bill grunted, pumping her sex full of jets of cum, leaving his sperm dribbling out of her and down her legs. Simultaneously, the head in her mouth flared and erupted in ribbons of jism, she swallowed furiously, tasting the salty musk before it drained down her throat. She sent her tongue over her lips to gather the last of it as he recently cleaned cock glistend and bobbed in front of her slowly shrinking after her ministrations. The men did not care for her comfort or dignity, to them, she was just meat. Suddenly, a loud horn was heard again. "Oops, lunchtime is over," Bill said from behind her. She watched Jackson zipper up and pulled his smock closed. Kimberly gasped, her mood shifting rapidly as her eyes went wide with realization. "Ok, load a number 2," Bill directed as Jackson disapeared from her view. The tall black man went to a rack of spits on the wall, gazing them for only a moment before selecting one, it's well used surface was polished from cleaning but hardly new. It clanged as he dropped it into place behind Kimberly's protesting form and into the spit driver, readying it to auger through its next job. "Ready," Jackson acknowledged the operator. "Right," Bill replied, pressing a button on control box as the spit began first to spin, whirring in place before, it began to advance, with measured 'clicks', each one punctuated by a few seconds of time to allow the machine to bore through quickly and cleanly. Its target attempted to squirm in her bonds but could do nothing to stop the coming spitting. It was not long she felt the cold hard tip of the spit touch her her warm open lips, still dripping her last lover's sperm. She sobbed, catching her breath, her eyes going wide at the queer spinning sensation, pressing into her, the spinning vibrating her sex lips, and her body. The men watched as the large metal shaft moved relentlessly forward. Slowly stretching the sow's hole wider than any cock she had ever had. Kimberly held her breath, trying to pull away from the pointed tip, feeling it pressing inside her, the cold surface rolling and stroking the sides of her sex lips. Unsuccessfully she willed it out of herself, her labia wrapping around it, grasping it as it entered her warm meat. There was a squishing sound as it pressed inwards and a tell tale sign of excessive moisture collecting where the shaft penetrated. "ughhh..." she groaned, her eyes open wide, feeling as if her sex was about to split. "OK, starting gutting cycle," Bill stated, watching with practiced eye as the spit augered in. There was a sharp snapping sound as the button released a short, stubby, and very sharp blade from the housing between her breasts. She felt a sudden heat as it bit below her breast bone. Simaultaenouesly the shaft shuttered as it met some resistance at the back of her womb, it stopped moving forward spinning in place. Kimberly grimaced, letting out a cry from the sharp blade, the stretching of her sex, and the constant pressure of the spit. The sharp pain under your chest suddenly moved in a straight line down her flat tummy to the top of your venus mound, pressing and seperating the flesh in one motion. Her faced screwed up with question, an odd sensation striking her, the sound of what seemed to be wet rags hitting the metal tray beneath her. She felt a sudden chill as Bill spoke. "OK, she's emptying out real good. Just another second." Kimberly's internal organs slid down the disposal chute beneath her disapearing into a revolving hatch. He motioned to Jackson to take hold of a hose, rolled up on the stall's wall. "Right. Insert cleaning tube." She felt something hard and thin slide into her anus and grunted. There was a sound of rushing water and a cool in your midsection; then sound of water pinging against metal. Kimberly was panting with fear her heavy breasts jostling, feeling the chill go completely through her. "OK, done, get it moving again'," Jackson said to Bill, pulling the hose free of her bottom. Bill nodded, gripping the box and restarting the spit's motion foward. With a click it punctured her abdominal wall, moving through her empty belly. Kimberly whined as her body shuddered from the spit's push. A tear ran down her flushed cheek. "OK I see it moving in the stomach cavity. You can seal 'er up now, Jackson said, kneeling beside the sow and gazing up at her open abdomen. Bill manipulated the controls again as the houseing released a second instrument that made a hundred little pin-pricks along her stomach as she was sewn shut. He noticed her tear. "Don't worry sow, we'll have you on the coals in no time." He chuckled at his self-imagined wit. He watched as the needle completed it's work, and tugging and stitching, the spit pressing higher. "OK. She closed. Fill 'er" "Right," Jackson responded, there was steady 'ca-chucking of a pump operating. She felt something being pumped in again thru her anus; that wasn't water, something heavier. She felt it in the bottom of her hollow belly, straining against the stitches. She was being stuffed. Bill watched as the spit spun up the back of her throat as her belly's stitching strained with the stuffing. "Any last words sow?" he asked. Kimberly felt her head swim, the spit pressing up through her throat, she looked up to see Bill standing over her. "Any second now," Jackson murmured, his hand cupping the underside of Kimberly's chin. He watched as her lips slowly parted and the tip of the spit protruded, pressing it's way out as her lips sealed around it, cleaning it's silvery surface as she tasted steel on her tongue. Kimberly stared at the silvery shaft, having a hard time believing that she was spitted and still alive. The brunette's flushed skin glowed with perspiration as the spit finally came to a stop, fully through her trembling form. "Almost, done," Bill murmured, motioning to Jackson. "OK, let's get the anal stabilizer in." The filling tube was pulled from her winking anus, a bit of stuffing leaking out and dribbling down over her stretched sex. Seconds later there was the sound of metal scraping along metal setting their teeth on edge as a large rod was pushed into the weeping rosette of her anus "There we're done." Bill, nodded releasing the straps from Kimberly's spitted body. She blinked, feeling her twitching legs being tied to the back of the spit She heard a voice at the opening of the work stall behind her, "You guys ready yet?" Then Jackson replying, "Yeah, this sow is going to the coals right now" She felt herself being lifted by the rod, her meat hanging from it. She could not bend her body or move her head, it was perfect bondage from the inside. She continued to perspire, straining to hear anything that might be said, her face stretched by the pole parting her lips. The men turned her toward the stall's opening, there was another attendant standing there, holding a trembling nude sow, her gaze fixed in horror at Kimberly's spitted body. Kimberly returned her gaze, blinking, remembering the girl that had been spitted before her. Kimberly's body jostling with each step, her breasts swaying from side to side, heavy with the buttery filling. They carried her down a corridor towards a door with the sign 'Roasting Grotto' over the frame. Chapter 4 "Alright everyone;" the tour guide began, clammering back onto the bus. "I got us three sows," he said, looking down at the photocopies on his clipboard of three seperate profiles. "Two whites and an Asian. I'll hand out their pictures profiles and pictures as you get off the bus. Let me know if you have any preferences, but the restaurant hostess assures me that they are all equally delicious. I think they're just getting them ready to put on the coals now. We have numbers 980, 987, and 989; we can see them put on and after we're done the tour they'll be ready. It's cool in parts of the plant so please remember your sweaters and jackets," he suggested. "Any questions?" He scanned the crowd of an enthusiastic faces and saw a hand shot up. "Who gets the fillets?" a pasty faced fat man asked. "We'll be drawing for them," the guide chuckled as the tour group began to file off beside him. "Remember everyone stick together!" he directed over the din as cameras were checked and sweaters and jackets were folded over arms. * * * There was the smell of meat cooking on the air, and it was heavenly. Kimberly realized with horror that she was enjoying the smell as it brought her back to roasts and meals she had been to and soon that it would be the scent of her meat on the air. The door opened to the Roasting Grotto and revealed rows of sows turning over beds of coals. Some were violently squirming, others were a calm brown, dripping on the coals. Along one side was an observation deck where tourists looked down as she, a fresh, naked sow, was carried along below them. She could hear their voices as she saw the spitted meat, knowing her own skin would soon begin to brown up like theirs. "Mommy is that our pig?" One little girl cried. "I think so honey, the man said our sows going to be put in number 17" The mother replied looking at Kimberly's eartag. "Yes, that one's ours." "Our piggy looks really good. I hope I win the draw!" They could see her enlarged breasts, her belly swollen. "Me too Hun," her mother commented, stroking her hair gently. The comments shook the brunette as she tried to emphasize that she still lived, blinking her eyes, wiggling her toes and fingers, feeling the twine around her wrists and ankles keeping her from doing more. She was carried past several numbered roasting pits before they came to one labelled 'Number 17'. "Here it is Jackson," Bill said. He turned to a nearby group of attendants, "Hey get this one out of here," he gestured with a pointing finger to the golden brown sow, turning peacefully over the coals. Two men hurried over immediately, gripping the spit in thick mittens and lifting it off. Kimberly was face to face with the roasted sow, it stared blankly back at her, steam escaping from around the spit protruding from its mouth. Kimberly shook inwardly, her fate finally hitting her fully. The sounds of the popping and hissing from drippings hitting the coals around her resounded in ears. She could hear tourists chattering away above her. A man in a chef's hat entered her vision. "Hold on boys, let me baste this sow," he directed plopping a mop into bucket and slathering sauce on Kimberly's helpless body. He pressed it between her legs and over her face, she felt the mop slap against her clitoris, the excess running off her curves. Kimberly could smell garlic and spices, realizing she was being seasoned as food. She could feel the slimey mixture drip off her, her button quivering against the spit and the mop top. "There you go little pig, you will tase so good with my special sauce," the attendent said, dropping the mop back into the bucket. Taking a pair of cutters, he cut the plastic tag from her ear. "There you are. You are now longer a sow, you are now meat. Put it on the fire boys;" he ordered, striding away, pushing the wheeled bucket of sauce. Kimberly heard the word 'meat' and it. She did not have time to consider the words as she was jostled, wincing at the hard metal bumped through her. She cringed feeling the heat grow close. Her eyes fluttered with fear than stared straight ahead with disbelief as the men positioned her over the fire. The was the sound of metal clanging against metal as the ends of the spit dropped into the uprights. A gear was attached to the rod and she felt herself start to turn. Jackson and Bill turned without a second glance to go back to the factory floor and continue their days. Waves of heat welled up, snapping at her like a hungry beast. She drew in deep breaths, her nostrils flaring, filling her lungs with super-heated air. As she turned, she could see a sow next to her squirming on her spit but losing her battle to stay awake. As her stomach rolled to the ceiling and the heat reddened her backside, she could see a little girl next to her mother pointing excitedly at her. She knew that their teeth would soon be devouring her cooked flesh. She was meat now, no one would help her. The fire did it's work. She could feel herself transforming, her conversion nearing completion. She could see the smiling faces of the tourists as she turned from pink to red, to golden, the taste of the sauce on her lips letting her know what they would be getting. She could hear her heart in her ears, and the sounds of sizzling, realizing it was the butter filling in her breasts. It spattered and hissed on the coals below as it leaked and dripped from her roasted breasts. She felt a pang in her side as a chef stood over her with a long meat fork. "Number 17 is cooking nicely," he commented, basting her again before walking away. Her eyes fluttered hearing him walk away on the tiled floor but she was having a hard time hearing anyone or anything now. She was now roast 17, one of 24, her breaths fewer and fewer, smaller and smaller, her sight failing. She stared straight ahead, not hearing anymore, not seeing anymore, not feeling anymore, peacefully turning over the coals, she had become meat, a roast sow