Elana’s Tail

Elana’s Tail

Nine P.M. and another hard day at the Sunset Funeral Home is ending. At the front entrance, Sam the undertaker is bidding farewell to the last guests from the dinner in honor of the late Cathy Briggs, late guest in the undertaker’s basement prep room and, incidentally, the main course (in the guise of barbeque spare ribs, rump roast, pork loin, pork shoulder, etc.) at her own funeral.

“Sam, you have really outdone yourself this time, this was the finest, albeit saddest, service I have ever been to.”

“Mrs. Smith,” Sam responds, “it was a pleasure to serve Cathy tonight. I only regret that she is not with us any longer.”

“Yes, Sam, it is a shame when girls die so young, having tasted so little of life.”

“We tried to give everyone of taste of what she was like,” Sam answered. “I am sorry that her best friend, Elena, was taken ill at the table.”

“Too much wine and grief for her constitution, I imagine,” Mrs. Smith speculated, “but I am glad that your assistant, Frederick, is tending her.”

“Once it’s clear that she is well enough to leave, we’ll let her go,” Sam reassured her.

On the third floor of the funeral home, in the guest bedroom, Fred is carefully arranging the unconscious girl on the four-post bed. Elana is lying stomach down on top of the bedcovers. He ties her limp wrists to the posts by the headboard, then her ankles to the foot posts. As he rests from his knot work, Fred slaps himself on the forehead. “Forgot to make her comfortable,” he mutters to himself. He unties the wrap-around skirt at her waist and eases it off.  Now, however, he is briefly stymied by the task of removing her panties, blouse, and bra, which can’t be slipped off over the bindings at head and foot.

“Fuck it,” Fred grumbles, takes out a folding knife, and cuts the offending articles of clothing off the girl. “Wow,” he exclaims as the girl’s naked body is exposed to the light from the nightstand, “what a fucking work of art.” Almost every square centimeter of skin surface is covered by elaborate tattoos in swirling arabesque patterns of deep blue, red and black. On her right shoulder, the names Cathy and Elana are surrounded by a floral medallion.

Fascinated, Fred inspects the inert form more closely. He is especially drawn to the genitals. He observes with pleasure that the girl’s crotch is smoothly shaven. “This saves me time I can put to better use,” Fred muses.  A golden ring pierces the labia. A break in the arabesque on either side of the inner thighs bears the motto “ENTER HERE

(If 18 or more years of age).” Fred feels his penis stiffening, and quickly turns his attention to the buttock cheeks, covered with a carpet of flowers. Something in the crevice catches his eye, and he gently spreads the cheeks apart. Concentric colored circles form a bull’s eye around the asshole. Encircling this is another motto, “BACK DOOR ENTRY (lubricate before opening)”

By now, Fred is completely enchanted. He examines his guest more closely, and discovers that the patterns are arranged in panels separated by dashed lines corresponding to anatomical features, “…cut…here…” “Unbelievable,” Fred blurts out load. Just below the short curly nape hair, blue dashes encircle the neck with the words, “cut along dotted line”.

In placing her, Fred has splayed the breasts slightly to either side, so that the nipples are exposed to view. The aureoles are deep brown in color, offsetting large gold rings set into the nipples.

Car doors slam shut, and the rest of the guests, but one, depart. Fred is just beginning to think of the next phase of his care giving, when the prone figure moans and opens her eyes.

“What’s happening to me? Where am I?”

“Miss Brown,” you are an honored guest here at Sunset Funeral Home,” Fred started to explain.

“Honored guest my ass! I’m being held against my will,” she spluttered.

“Nonsense,” Fred said, defending himself, “We are merely trying to help you recover from a fainting spell, and were concerned you might accidentally harm yourself.”

“Bullshit,” she retorted, “you’re keeping me as a prisoner.” “When I saw the tattoo on the roast shoulder, I realized that you fuckers were feeding Cathy to us.” 

“Wait a minute,” Fred interrupted, “we were told you are a vegetarian. Why were you taking a piece of the roast?”

“It smelled so good, I was going to try it, but, but… then I saw that tattoo and realized that Ca..cca..Cathy was on the menu. How could you?”

A gentle knock sounds on the bedroom door, and Sam enters the room. “Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt anything that might be happening,” he said. “Fred, why didn’t you tell me we had a fucking work of art with us?”

“Sam, I was just working up to the fucking part when you so rudely interrupted my little discussion with Miss Brown. Will you butt out?”

“”Fred, we have always operated on share and share alike principles here. However, if you want to be piggy about it..”

“Just a fucking minute,” Elana shouted, “you goddam bastards cooked my best friend, tried to serve her to me, and now you’re arguing about fucking ME??”

“Young lady, you are jumping to conclusions. I am sure that once we explain the entire situation to you, you will understand the necessity of our actions.”

“Blow it out your ass, you fucking bag of fart. Let me go NOW!”

“My, my, you are even more vociferous than your late friend, Elana.”

“You lying sack of shit, how could you talk to a corpse?”

“Dearie, you must know that even hospitals make mistakes. They switched Cathy and a corpse named Cindy, and delivered Cathy here instead. When she arrived, we thought she was a very attractive goner, and, shall I say, took advantage of the situation.”

“You mean, asshole, that you fucked my best friend while you thought she was a corpse?”

Sam sighed, “Yes, Elana, and when the hospital called, we informed them that she had already been cremated, just a little fib.”

“And I suppose the hospital went along with this charade?”

“Oh yes,” Sam agreed, “They hardly wanted to admit that they had disposed of a live patient as a corpse. So you see, we had little choice but to proceed.”

“I can’t believe this. You are confessing that you snuffed my best friend, and then cannibalized her, you fucking prick!”

“Hey, come on!” said Fred. She was conscious when I fucked her, both times, and she didn’t say no! I think she enjoyed it.”

“Yeah, fuckface, why don’t you ask her now?”

“That’s a little difficult, since she’s now in a lot of different places,” Fred smiled.

“Fred, you’re a moron,” Sam snarled.

“Yes,” said the enraged girl, “ we finally agree on something.”

“Your friend was so impolite through this whole thing that we finally decided to harvest her organs: heart, liver, kidneys, corneas, without benefit of anesthetics,” Sam admitted.

“You can’t be serious! You vivisected her, and then carved her up for food?”

“Now you understand our dilemma, Elana. We can’t just let you go, and risk an investigation that could have serious long-term consequences for us both. On the other hand, you will be classified soon as a missing person, which creates its own difficulties. So we are going to drive your car to a remote area in the mountains and leave it there. By the time a hiker finds it, you will have disappeared, presumed lost.

With that, Sam removes a hypodermic needle from his coat pocket, and shoves it into Elana’s ass. She  shrieks, then passes out.

“That will hold her for a few hours until we can get rid of her car,” Sam told Fred.

“But what are we going to do with this one? Sam,” Fred answered plaintively.

“Don’t worry, Fred, I’m working that out already.”

Four hours later, Elana comes to, realizing that something is sliding into her asshole. “Shit,” she says, “stop it.”

“Too late,” says Fred, “Sam is letting me go first this time. Then it’s his turn. This passes the time a lot faster than reading. Although I am enjoying reading your tattoos”

“My boyfriend thought it was pretty funny to put invitations at my cunt and asshole,” Elana whimpered.

“Well, I think so, too,” whispered Fred, “although the joke is now on you.  Or maybe its IN you, “ he chuckled.

Sunday morning is a quiet time at Sunset Funeral Home. Sunlight pours through the east window of the guest bedroom. The ruddy morning glow strikes the buttocks of the most recent guest, already reddened from an evening of pleasure.

Sam gazes philosophically at the glowing artwork covering her ass, back, and legs. Then he rises, goes over to the sleeping girl, and lifts her head by the hair. “Good morning, beautiful,” he gushes.

“Why are you so fucking happy, you piece of shit?” she snarls.

“Because, my love, I‘ve just figured out how we’re going to handle you without doing violence to your beautiful skin. You see, I’ve been in contact with art connoisseurs who appreciate both the female form and visual art. You also have a rare, and highly sought-after blood type. And there is also a demand for replacement organs and for specialized meat products. I like to think of you as a nice package, which we are going to unpack.”

“You rotten, sadistic, fucking asshole! You and your little idiot assistant go fuck yourselves. Go fuck each other!”

“Why should we do that, when we can fuck you anytime we want? We’re going to turn you over now so that we can have a little more variety.” “Fred? Come up! We’re going to make Miss Brown a little more comfy; bring the ball gag up while you’re at it.”

Once secure in her more restful pose, Miss Brown does yeoman service during the ensuing morning and afternoon. At last, Sam turns to Fred and asks, “What do you think, Fred, have we had enough fun with this one?”

“Sam, I’m tired,” Fred replied, “too much fucking work.”

“Or is it too much work fucking,” Sam laughed. Their playmate made a groan. “You see, her sense of humor is getting better. By the time we’re done, she’ll be howling.”

The two went off for an early meal, checking the bonds to make sure they were tight. “Why don’t you get an good night’s sleep,” Sam said. “I’ll watch her tonight.”

Monday morning, Fred whistled as he wheeled a gurney into the bedroom. “Good morning,” he says cheerfully, as he eases it alongside the bed. We’re just going to slide your ass over onto this gurney, and take you downstairs for your treatment.” He removes the gag from Elana’s mouth.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she exploded, “anything is better than what you’ve done to me just now.”

“Elana,” Sam speaks reassuringly, “ we’re on a tight schedule and don’t have time for chit-chat. I’m sure you will be fascinated by this process and won’t want to miss a minute.” He pressed the basement level button.

As they roll her down the hall to the prep room, Sam explains, ”Our biggest problem is how to keep you as fresh as possible. Fortunately for you, I have found customers for almost everything.”

“Wha..wha..What do you mean?” she stammers.

I have located a wealthy sheik that wants a little décor for his harem. We are going to mount you a little differently than we have for the past two nights. A taxidermist friend of mine will take care of stuffing your skin after we deliver it to him.”

“Meanwhile,” Sam elucidates, “your organs are in bigger demand than I thought. I have received bids from four different transplant centers. Having a little extra time than we did with Cathy is really paying off.”

“You are un-fucking-believable,” Elana shouted. “How can you get away with this?”

“Very easily, cunt. It seems that there are plenty of twenty-three year old graduate students around and no one will miss you for at least a week or two. You will be farmed out long before that.”

The head of the gurney pushes open the door to the prep room. Once they maneuver the gurney alongside the prep table, Sam and Fred slide the slim, now silent form onto the stainless steel surface. “Who is the asshole now,” says Fred, “you’re nothing but a slab of meat waiting to be turned into dollar bills.”

“Listen, Fred, and shut your fucking cakehole. How much are you getting out of this deal? Ever thought that Sam is pocketing the profits and giving you pocket change? How much is he getting, anyways?”

Sam interrupts, “Fred, we’ll be making a quarter of a million dollars minimum for this otherwise worthless bitch’s hide and guts. Not to mention the sale of blood and meat. She’s worth a lot more for parts than alive.”

“Wow, Sam, let’s get on with it then. We don’t want to miss the FedX driver.”

“You fucking mercenary sons-of-bitches, why don’t you take a …..”

Fred slips the gag into her mouth. “Quite right, Fred,” Sam says, “we don’t have to put up with that abusive behavior anymore.”  He grabs an IV needle and approaches Elana, now staring up at him. Grabbing her head, he thrusts the needle into the carotid artery.

“I can now control the flow of blood out of you with this valve. We are going to be nice to you, and just drain enough to reduce your level of consciousness. Meanwhile, we will start some of the other procedures.”

With that, Sam opens the stopcock, and a thick stream of blood gushes into a bag hanging next to the table. After collecting about two pints, he shuts the valve down. Elana’s head lolls, but her eyes remain open.

Elana, I am going to start peeling off your skin, starting with your feet. He takes a small skinning knife and starts a cut at the soles of each foot. He then rolls up the skin up each leg, until he reaches the buttocks. “This is the tricky part,” he explains to Fred, “ I have to cut loose the skin around the asshole and continue. Meanwhile, you take the ring out of her cunt, and the ones out of her nipples. Otherwise, they’ll interfere with the skinning. As Sam gently cuts away the skin from its integument, the girl tries to shrink away. “Open up the valve a little, Fred, let’s quiet her down.”

Once the skin is rolled up to the chest, Sam stops. He grabs a scalpel and makes a fast incision in the now truly naked flesh, exposing the abdominal cavity. Fred helps him as he dissects the liver and kidneys out, and deposits them in waiting receptacles. Now Sam reaches into the chest cavity, makes a few swift cuts, and brings out the still beating. heart.  

The back doorbell rings, and the intercom buzzes. “FedX, here for a pickup for the transplant center”. Fred, wipe the blood off your hands, and take these out. As Fred leaves, Sam continues the task of peeling back the skin. The nipples give him trouble, as the aureoles are particularly reluctant to part company with their deceased owner. Then the face presents its own set of problems, as Elana’s dead corpse seems determined to preserve something of her identity.

“Now,” Sam tells Fred, “time to clean this bitch up a little. Finish gutting her, and put all that trash aside. We’ll burn it later. We’ll cook her for the Samuels service tomorrow. “I’m going to contact the taxidermist.”

Left alone, Fred cleans out the remainder of the last guest. “Too bad,” he muses, “it would have been nice to fuck her once more for old times sake.”

Later, Fred wipes down Elana with garlic and olive oil. “Be sure to salt inside the cavity,” Sam instructs him.  Together, Sam and Fred stuff the cavity with     

celery and grapes, then sew it shut. They wrestle the stuffed guest onto a heavy wooden plank, belly down, and nail the legs and arms to the plank. “She dressed out at 75 pounds,” Sam said proudly, “plenty for the party.” “We’ll bake her in the crematorium at 300 degrees. Have to baste her often, and cover her with foil to preserve the tenderness.”

At the party, Elana was the hit of the evening. 

“Sam,” I don’t know how you do it,” his friend Paul remarked, “this is the most tender and juicy pork roast I have ever had. What’s your secret?”

“It’s all in the preparation,” Sam bragged. “It took us almost four days to properly prepare the meat.”

“It must have been quite an ordeal.”

“No, on the contrary, it was a pleasure I can’t possibly describe.”

“Well, Sam, don’t even try. Have you met my son,  Art, by the way?”

“Art. Pleased to meet you.”

“Art’s girl friend broke up with him a month ago. Now he’s very despondent.”

“Art, I’m sorry to hear that. What is her name?”

“Elana.”

“Really, not the same girl who was Cathy’s best friend? She was at the service, but left really distressed. Couldn’t wait to get her ass out. I’m sure she’ll turn up where you least expect her. Who knows, she might even crash our program tonight.”

“Well, I don’t have time for her now. I’ve got a big job with some Saudi dude. Turns out he is crazy about tattoos and wants to do over his wives. Rumor has it that he actually collects samples of tattoo art. He’s expecting a big addition to his collection and wants me to come over and give my professional opinion.”

 

Home is where the heart is.

†

Sam and Fred are sitting on the front porch of the Sunset Funeral Home, reflecting on their recent adventures with Cathy and her best friend, Elana.

†

“Boy, those two sure were hot,” Fred remarks.

†

“Yes, especially after we cooked ‘em in the crematorium,” Sam chuckles. “Who would have thought it would make such a great bake oven?”

†

“Well,” says Fred, “now that I’m a partner in the business and we’re doing so well, I’m thinking about finding a good woman and settling down.”

†

“Yep, and if she doesn’t work out, we can take care of her right here,” says Sam, “no messy divorce, just a little more product for sale.”

†

“Look at this one walking up the road,” Fred observes, watching a tall, freckled redhead with short hair, a skirt ending a few inches above the knees, and a matching top.†

†

“Nice ass, great tits,” Sam murmurs, waving at the woman.

†

She waves back, and turns onto the pathway leading up to the funeral home.

†

“Hi, I’m Shelley, mind if I sit for a while? I’ve been walking most of the day.”

†

“Certainly, miss, please have a seat,” Fred answers, winking at Sam. “I’m Fred, and this is my partner, Sam.”

†

“Pleased to meet you both. Do you know how far it is to Sunset Valley?”

†

“The town center is about fives miles away. What are you looking for?” Sam asks.

†

“I lost my job, broke up with my boyfriend, and then my car breaks down,” Shelley says.† “I need a place to stay and a decent meal most of all. I’ll do anything.”

†

“Shelley, I think we can help you out. Our guest room is available. Our last guest was a young lady very distraught over the death of her best friend. We were able to provide her with closure. I’m sure we can help you,” Sam replied in his most suave tone.

†

“Sure,” Fred jumps in, “we’ve been getting more practice cooking lately. Or,” seeing Sam’s glare, “we can always send out. How do you like Chinese?”

†

Shirley’s smile lit up her face, “You’re so kind. Chinese would be fine. I’m sure they have some organic, vegetarian items on the menu.”

†

“Gosh,” Fred exclaims, “so you’re an organic, whole foods vegetarian? You’re the first one I’ve met- well, live that is.”

†

Sam interrupts, before the conversation deteriorates too far: “ Fred, go get the menu for the Shanghai Palace. It’s on the office desk next to the phone.”

†

“Sure, Boss. No, sure Sam,” Fred replies. ”It’s hard to get used to being a full partner in the business.”††

†

“Wow, you’ll have to tell me more over dinner,” Shelley gushed.

†

The trio then consult the menu, and order the roast pork luau for Sam and Fred, and the vegetarian platter for Shelley.

†

Twenty minutes later at the Shanghai Palace, Sam picks up the order. “How are things going, Mr. Wang,” Sam asks politely. “Hectic, I see."

†

” Wang says, “big party in a week. They want organic pork. How do I get that?”

†

Sam lights up, “You know, I might just be able to help you out. Turns out I know someone planning to slaughter a pig raised on organic food soon. It’ll be expensive, though.”

†

“Expense no problem,” Wang says. “These are oil tycoons. They’re loaded. Can you get me ribs, loin, rump roast, smoked shoulder, ground pork and tripe?”

†

“Tripe?” Sam answers, raising his eyebrows.

†

“Well, not for the party, for my family at home.”

†

“Sure, when do you want delivery?”

†

“A week from tomorrow. Are you sure you can do this?”

†

“Positive,” Sam responds. “In fact, I’m going to inspect the piggy this very afternoon.”

†

“Fine,” says Wang, “Can you supply me with 80 pounds?”

†

“No problem, I’ll call and confirm tomorrow”

†

When Sam arrives back at Sunset Funeral Home, he finds the front porch deserted. Inside, he hears a noise in the reception parlor, opens the door, and finds Fred and Shelley on the couch, hastily straightening their clothes.

†

“Time to eat, let’s go to the dining room.” The pair follow him down the hallway to a spacious dining room. Fred and Shelley sit together on one side of the table, Sam at the end. He looks appraisingly at Shelley.

†

“You look to be in pretty good shape, Shelley,” Sam opens.

†

“Yes, I’ve been taking aerobics classes and eating healthily. Right now, I weigh 110 pounds,”† Shelley boasts.

†

Sam smiles, “Well, I hope you can stay a little while and put some meat on those bones.”

†

“Now you sound just like my dad. He was a hog farmer.”

†

“Here’s your vegetarian lo mein, the moo shu pancakes, and the tofu and vegetables. I hope you don’t mind that Fred and I are having ribs.”

†

“Not at all, I try not to be judgmental about what other people eat.”

†

While Fred and Sam wield knife and fork on their ribs, they watch in amazement as Shelley demolishes her lighter fare with chopsticks.

†

After dinner entertainment consists of watching the news, playing card games (which Fred loses), and then retiring to their separate rooms. Within a few minutes, Sam hears Fred’s door open and the faint sound of footsteps in the hallway. Then the guestroom door opens faintly and shuts.

†

“Damn,” Sam thinks, “ I’ve got to stop him from playing with the food. But how?”

†

Next morning, Sam cooly appraises Shelley as the three sit down to eggs, bacon,†and home fries. Shelley pushes the bacon aside.

"Tell us more about your boyfriend. Why did the two of you break up?"

†

"He was kind of wierd. I didn't mind the nipple rings and the rings in my cunt lips. Those turned me on."

†

Fred blushes as she goes on. "But it was the tattoo on my ass that turned me off to him. Big fucking joke. He tattooed a U.S.D.A. meat inspector's circle, signed, with the notation "Certified Organic Meat." His idea of a joke, I suppose. I'm hoping to remove it with a laser."

†

"Too bad," Sam sympathizes, those are hard to remove."

†

†"Well. business is a little slow right now. Nothing is scheduled for this week. Meanwhile, I've got a little construction project I'm working on. Fred, do you think you can entertain Shelley for the next few days?"

†

"Sure bo- I mean, Sam, maybe we'll go over to the park, feed the ducks, rent a movie."

†

Sam gets in his pickup and drives towards the hardware store. He calls Wang on his bluetooth. "Mr. Wang, this is Sam. I have good news for you. They're going to reserve this pig just for your party. It's a young and tender one. Certified organic by the United States Food and Drug Administration. They keep it alive for the next few days to bring it into tip-top shape. No, no Mr. Wang, the farm is not open to the public. You can't inspect the pig yourself. But I can assure you that it's a beautiful animal."

†

Meanwhile, Fred and Shelley are using the park in ways the landscape designer never intended.

†

"Oh, Fred, pull those rings harder! Don't be afraid, it just turns me on more."

Fred† twists and pulls her nipples by the rings. The aureoles darken and pucker. "Oh, oh, I'm coming," she moaned.

†

As Shelley writhes in pleasure, Fred thrusts into her vagina and rocks her back and forth, tugging Shelley's nipples more and eliciting more groans of pleasure. Finally, both spent, they lie next to each other in the grassy opening in the park woods. Shelley lies on her belly. Fred kisses her tattooed asscheek.†

†

"Oh Fred," she says in a husky voice, "that was amazing."

†

"I haven't had so much fun in ages," Fred responds, pulling a pack of Marlboros out of his pocket, and reaching for his BIC.

†

"Fred! Put those down! You're going to kill yourself with that stuff."

†

"Aw, c'mon! For chrissake, I've been smoking these for years. Besides, we've all gotta die sometime."

†

"Well, I don't want to die of lung cancer or some other horrible lingering disease. I want to go quick. If you insist on smoking, please go downwind of me."

†

Fred slouches off, leaving neither party particularly satisfied. Later, the two go to the movies. Fred wants to see the new vampire movie, Shelley the new chick flick with tangled relationships. They end up going to see a movie that neither like. On the way home, the pair stop at the local supermarket, where Fred buys tempeh, tofu, various greens and vegetables.

†

"I'll cook tonight," Shelley says. "Have you boys every eaten organic food?"

†

"Not yet," Fred replies, "glumly, but there's a first time for everything." He brightens up, "I am hoping to eat your pussy tonight."

†

"Not exactly what I had in mind, but it might make a good dessert," Shelley smiles.

†

Dinner is an unqualified disaster. Neither Fred nor Sam eat much of their food, although†Fred tries bravely.

†

That evening, after Shelley retires to her room. †Sam says to Fred, "Could you run into town for me in the morning? I'll give you a list of supplies. We need to spruce up the place a bit now that Shelley's here."

†

"Sure, Sam, can you tell me what you're doing?"

†

"Fred, it would spoil the surprise. I think Shelley's going to have the time of her life, though."

†

"OK, Sam, if it's for Shelley, I'll be glad to help out. Now, I have to get to bed." Fred starts down the hall, then knocks lightly on Shelley's door, and enters.

†

The next morning, after the oatmeal and skim milk that Shelley has prepared, Fred stands up. "Hey, Shell, I'm heading down to pick up some supplies for Sam. Anything you need?"

†

"No, Fred," she replies, "everything I need is here already," glancing at Sam.

†

As Fred drives off, Shelley turns to Sam and says, "I think I'll sunbathe in the backyard. Could you help me with my organic tanning lotion?"

†

"Sure thing," Sam says, "but then I've got to get to work on my project."

†

"No problem, I'll just lie here and bake in the sun," the girl replies, as she shrugs off her clothes. Sam applies the lotion enthusiastically. "We redheads burn easily," she says, "so do a careful job."

"You bet," Sam says. "Now can you turn over so I can get your back? That's a girl."

As Sam massages the lotion onto her back, he is captivated by the USDA label tattooed on her right buttock. He squeezes out some more lotion, then spreads it carefully on Shelley's ass. His fingers run down her butt crack.

"Hey, the sun don't shine down there."

"Just checking it out, sorry."

"Don't be sorry, I thought you were an ass man. Want some?" Shelley spreads her legs, revealing her asshole to Sam.

"if you're offering, I'm on it," Sam.

"Better hurry before Fred gets back," she pants.

Sam pulls down his pants and briefs, and guides his cock with his left hand into her.†

"Oh God! That feels good! Give me a little front action, too." He rubs his fingers on her pussy and sinks two of them between her lips. Her response is an inarticulate moan, and he feels her cum gush over his fingers. Meanwhile, he ejaculates explosively into her asshole. A minute later, they lie side by side on the lawn, gasping.†

"Sam, you're the best. Fred is a nice guy, but he just doesn't have what it takes to keep a woman satisfied. What am I going to do? I think I'll have to leave in the next day or two."

"Tomorrow, I'll have a little surprise for you," Sam assures her. "Sort of a going-away present."

"Good. I love surprises. Let me know if there is anything I can do."

"Will do. Meanwhile, I have to get back to work. Fred should be back pretty soon." Sam kisses her deeply, pats her right buttock on the USDA mark, and gets up. He heads for the back door.

Shelley rearranges herself on the blanket, and turns over on her back, a wide beach hat covering her

head and face.

By the time Fred returns, Shelley has turned her backside up and has fallen asleep. He admires her form, and backs the pickup slowly to the loading dock. The sound of an electric drill can be heard from the prep room. He unloads the pile of material and returns outside.

Once Shelley wakes up, she gets dressed and asks Sam and Fred if she can go shopping. "I'll repay you somehow," she promises.

Sam grins and says, "I think you'll repay us sooner than you think. Why don't you and Fred go into town. I've got to keep working on my project."

"Just what are you doing?" she asks.

"I want it to be a surprise," Sam answers. "I'll show you tomorrow."

Fred and Shelley get back about 1:30 in the afternoon. "Sorry about that," Shelley apologizes, "but I had to get some new clothes, and had to buy some special food for lunch and tonight."

Lunch consists of arugula salad and gazpacho soup. Fred mutters, "Rabbit food."

Shelley laughs and tells Fred, "Hey, rabbits are pretty sexy, aren't they? You sure fuck like a rabbit. Eat your salad and stop complaining."

That afternoon, Shelley and Fred take off for the local swimming hole, where she shows him new water sports that he had never imagined.

That evening, as they sit down together to tofu loaf, Shelley announces, "Well, boys, I'm going to have to take my leave tomorrow. It's been fun, but I have to keep on moving. I have your address, and I'll drop you a line now and then with a money order."

"But, I th..th..thought you were going to stay," Fred stammers.

"Fred, you're a sweet guy, but I have to live my own life. I don't really think you're my type."

"Well, maybe you're right. But I think I could get used to tofu and vegetables."

"Fred is a pretty convinced carnivore," Sam observes. "Just out of curiosity, how did you become a vegetarian anyway, growing up on a hog farm and all?"

"I was a precocious kid. When I was about eight, I read a book on the cannibals of the Fiji Islands. It turns out that they regularly ate members of their own tribe, visiting missionaries, and shipwrecked mariners. Some kind of dietary insufficiency, I suppose."

"But how did that convince you to become a vegetarian?"

"When I read that the Fijians called human flesh long pig, because of its resemblance to pork, I started to think about how intelligent pigs are, and to the killing and butchering process. It spoiled my interest in eating meat of any sort."

"Very admirable. And how did the Fiji islanders cook their long pig?"

"They used large ovens and baked their victims for hours. Funny, their cooks said that the tastiest meat came from the inside of a woman's thighs."

"Fascinating. Well, I guess there's no way we can try that out, right Fred?" Sam jested, poking Fred in the arm.

"I'm exhausted from all that shopping, and need to get a good night's sleep. I'm going to turn in early so I can be fresh tomorrow."

As Shelley rises, Fred starts to get up, too. She pushes him back gently into his chair. "No, Fred, I need to get some sleep for a change. We'll say goodbye tomorrow morning," she says, winking at Fred, and giving Sam a furtive look.

"Fred, let's go out for a little spin," Sam says.†

As they climb into the pickup, Fred says, "I'm dying for a hamburger, or better yet a barbecue pork sandwich. All that talk of long pig has made me hungry. I'm sick of this vegetarian shit."

"Fred, I'm sorry she's going. As far as I'm concerned, Shelley could stay for good."

"Yeah, but she doesn't want to marry me or be my girlfriend. She explained that to me while we were driving around. Says she wants to be a free spirit."

"Look, Fred, since she's leaving anyways, why don't we do her tomorrow morning? I've made all the arrangements. Wang is catering a big affair for some wealthy oilmen. They are asking for certified organic pork as the main course. Shelley fills the bill perfectly."

"Okay, Sam, but I want to save some choice cuts for ourselves. All the while I've been eating this vegetarian crap, I've been wondering how she'd taste."

The next morning dawns with a spectacular sunset. Sam and Fred stand on the front porch admiring the view."Reminds me of the day they dropped Cathy off," Fred observes.

"Who's Cathy?" asks Shelley, who had come out quietly.

The two men quickly stub out their cigarettes. "She was a big help in

putting us on the road to making profits," says Sam, "but she shipped out and we haven't heard from her in a while. Fortunately, her friend Elana helped us out a little later."

Shelley shivers. "This nightgown is too sheer. I've got to get back inside.

What did you have in mind for this morning?" Her nipples, fully erect,

show right through the gown, with the rings hanging below.

Sam opens the door. "Shelley, you know my predilections. I was wondering if we could start by cleaning you out a bit."

"You mean an enema? Then you take me up the ass? Sounds like a good start." She pulls off her nighty. "Shall we do this part in the bathroom?"

Once inside the bathroom, Sam unscrews the shower head and installs another head attached to a clear plastic hose ending in a nozzle. "I'm just going to lubricate this a little so it'll go up your asshole better," Sam explains.

Shelley giggles, "I hope you're using organic vegetable oil."

"Actually, it's virgin olive oil," Sam ripostes. "Is that good enough for you."

"It'll have to do," she retorts, bending over the sink and spreading her ass cheeks. Sam carefully works the nozzle in. He then slowly turns on the faucet.†

After two minutes, he turns off the faucet, then helps her over to the toilet and pulls out the nozzle. A shower of water mixed with shit cascade from her. "Doesn't even smell bad, does it, Fred?"

Shelley giggles, "One of the advantages of a vegetarian diet. After all, the best tasting food animals are the ones that are vegetarians."

"Gee, I hadn't thought of it that way, Shelley, I guess you're right," Fred says. "How about a nice hot shower after that enema? I picked up some organic, animal fat free soap. Then if you don't mind, I'd like to shave you."†

"Sounds like fun, Fred. Do you want to lather me up?"

Twenty minutes later, Fred is carefully shaving Shelley. "Fred, this really turns me on. Be sure to shave everything. Don't forget my armpits and my pussy."†

“I had a funny dream last night. I was back at my father’s pig farm at slaughter time. Except that I was being slaughtered instead of a pig. The shaving reminded me of how we would scald the dead pig and then scrape off the bristles.”

She sighs, “What’s next, boys, I feel like I’m ready for anything.”

Sam and Fred look at each other. Sam says, “I think you’re ready for my big surprise. Do you mind if I blindfold you? No peeking now.”

“Go ahead, I haven’t had this much fun in years.”

“Okay, now I’m going to guide you.” Sam holds Shelley by her left arm and directs her with his hand on the small of her back. “Now we’re going down to the lower level. Fred, can you open that door for Miss Shelley?”

The threesome step into the prep room. In the center of the room  is a stand bolted to the floor. A block of wood about three feet high and two feet long, six inches wide rises from the center of the stand. The top is rounded at the edges, and is covered with a soft leather. Eye bolts are set into the base on either side. At one end of the block is a metal framework with a lower semicircular cutout, leather lined.

“Okay, Shelley, just bend over and lie on this. Beautiful. I’m just going to snug you in now.”

Sam lowers the top plate of the framework in place around Shelley’s neck. Her breasts hang down on either side of the block. He attaches a turnbuckle with hooks on either end to the eye ring at the base and to the nipple ring on each breast.

“All right Fred, tighten up the turnbuckle on your side, while I do the same on my side.”

“Sam, this is really turning me on. I hope you’re going to fuck me soon.”

“Don’t worry, Shelley, this will be the most unique experience in your life.”

As the turnbuckles tighten, Shelley’s breasts are pulled down tightly, describing conical shapes. “Wow, I can feel the endorphins kicking in,” she moans, “what a fucking rush.”

“Fred, tie these to her hands and feet. Now pull on the tackle and spread her legs apart as far as you can.”

“I can’t believe this, Shelley says, “it’s a good thing I’ve taken yoga for so many years or I’d feel like you were going to pull me apart.”

“Okay, Shelley, one last thing. We going to tie these cords to your cunt rings, take a bend around these cleats on either side and spread your lips apart.”

“Oh my God! FUCK ME! FUCK ME NOW! FUCK EVERY HOLE!”

“Our pleasure, Miss Piggy.” Sam grasps Shelley’s hair, pulls her head up, and thrusts his cock into her mouth. She sucks vigorously, shaking her head as much as she can.

Fred rams his rod into her cunt. She clenches it with her vaginal muscles, and alternately tightens and releases pressure on it. Meanwhile Fred takes a wooden dildo, lubricated with virgin olive oil, and forces it into her asshole.

Sam finishes up his work and withdraws from Shelley’s mouth. She gulps, then gasps, “This is the most fantastic experience I’ve had in my life. This is a surprise worth waiting for.”

“There’s more to come,”  Sam smiles. He removes her blindfold. She looks down and says in a puzzled tone, “Huh, what’s the basket for?”

“Well, in your present position you can’t really appreciate your situation. Look at the little tv monitor I’ve set up. I’m going to show you  a live feed while Fred continues his ministrations.”

Meanwhile, Fred has switched his fully distended penis to Shelley’s asshole, while plying her pussy with another dildo. “Oh, Fred, don’t stop!” she moans.

Sam takes a videocam and zooms in on Shelley’s body. “I like what you’ve done to my tits, it’s an exquisite feeling, even if a little painful.”

He shows her Fred humping her ass. “Keep going Fred, thrust a little deeper.”

Now he turns to the front of the apparatus. “My god, that looks like a guillotine,” she exclaims.

“It is,” Sam says, “goodbye, Miss Piggy!” He pulls the lever on the side of the machine. The blade descends from the ceiling and slices cleanly through her neck. Shelley’s head falls into the basket.

Blood jets from the severed neck in spurts. The body bucks, and Fred ejaculates as her dying spasms clench his dick.

“Now. Fred, we have to clean her out and hang her overnight. We ship the head for dissection to the state medical college. Her internal organs are going to Mr. Wang, who is going to feed his growing family. That includes her lungs and intestines.”

“Sam, can I have her heart? We need to save some loin meat and her tits, too.”

“I don’t see why not, Fred.” We’ve got enough of Shelley to make up the order with a nice meal to spare for ourselves. Just be sure to save the piece of rump roast with the tattoo on it. We need some proof that she’s organic.”

The next day, Fred delivers Shelley, now nicely disassembled, to

Wang’s.  That evening, Sam and Fred sit down to enjoy the fruits of their labor. “Yum, Fred says, chewing on a piece of Shelley’s breast, “This is a whole lot better than that tofu shit.”

“Haven’t I told you not to talk with your mouth full,” Sam hisses at Fred. “How are you ever going to get a girl with your lack of table manners?”

Fred finishes his mouthful. “Okay, boss. I’ll try to improve.” He reaches over to slice off a nipple from his breast piece. “This is nicely done. Just the way I like it: a little crispy.”

The following morning, Fred and Sam are in the prep room cleaning up the mess left by Shelley. Suddenly, the front door buzzer sounds. Sam, who has been supervising Fred, and is more presentable, goes to the door.

As he opens it, a familiar face and voice says, “I was at the feast last night, and was given this,” holding out a medium rare piece of meat with a USDA inspection seal.

Art steps through the door. “I tattooed that on Shelley’s ass, and now you’re feeding my own girl friend back to me.”

“I can understand how upset you are,” Sam stammers.

“I’m not mad,” Art says, “I’m just upset that I didn’t think of it myself. I’d like to make a little business proposition to you>”

To be continued…..