Corporate Culling
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Melissa gave Nathalie a smug grin as she dropped a leaf of paper into the drawing box. “Still have a chance to back out you know.” she suggested to her co-worker while flipping her shoulder-length, red hair to give an air of confidence. “You know what they’ll do to you if you get picked right? You know… what I’ll do to you?”
 
Nathalie’s slightly shorter, violet, bobbed hair bounced from side to side as she shook her head. “Nice try Mel. You think I’d miss out on the opportunity to put you in your place?” Shortly after she shoved her rival aside to place her own name in the slit. She then adjusted the gaudy, multicolored Christmas lights that were wrapped around the ballot box, to keep the lid secured.
 
It wasn’t per-se that the girls openly disliked each other. In fact they’d known one another far too long to not develop some sort of mutual respect. Rather, they were simply friendly rivals… usually. Secretaries for two of the most successful businessmen in town, who… in turn, worked for one of the most untouchable companies in the nation. Both of them had worked hard to get where they were. They’d proven themselves to be more than capable of handling the logistical issues their bosses required of them, and had grown into a sort of… perpetual competition as though to prove themselves. Now, as the company holiday barbecue was approaching, they had a slightly… different avenue through which to pursue their little contest.
 
“Joining the lottery ladies?” The deep voice of a strikingly built young man rang out from the other side of the hallway. Mark, the office hunk, had just emerged from the day’s average, drawn out meeting, and seemed eager to stretch his legs a bit, as well as his vocal chords. “Excellent. I was a bit concerned that we didn’t have enough piglets signing up.” Mark’s well-groomed, dark haired goatee might have seemed childish to some at first glance, but combined with his silver-tongued demeanor and smooth, deep voice, he was an absolute dreamboat. He stepped forward with a confident gait that drew a swoon from both women. “And the fact that it’s two of the most gorgeous, slightly marbled pieces of meat in the firm definitely doesn’t hurt things~”
 
Ever the gentleman, Mark resisted the urge to reach out and… test the women. Not that he needed to, to confirm his claim. Both Melissa and Nathalie were quite forthcoming about their careful diet and exercise routine on social. They were of equally athletic builds, maintaining just enough sugars and fats in their meals to round out their shapes without undoing all their hard work. To some, being called the perfect meatgirl might have been an insult, but to these two, who were unceasingly trying to one-up each other, it was affirmation that they were on the right track. Of course, neither was… particularly fond of the idea of being singled out as a company snack. They’d much more enjoy the prospect of being claimed by such a hottie in a more amorous sense. However, nor were they willing to back down and show weakness to one another. It was… tradition.
 
“Hmmm~ When you’re rounded up to the company stables, I think I’ll have a much easier shot at him.” teased Melissa.
 
 
“Dream on sister. Just think of how romantic it’ll be for me when we’re carving up your ass to candlelight~” Nathalie retorted.
 
 
Both girls gave a good, long glare, before being unable to suppress the childish smiles that were hiding behind their dramatized feud. They weren’t sure, between the two of them, which started chuckling first, but it wasn’t long before they returned to more professional pleasantries. There were a hundred women in this building alone. The chances that either of them would be picked were simply negligible, or so they’d convinced themselves, at least.
 
 
“See you tomorrow then.” Nathalie continued, much more amicably than their little show just before would suggest.
 
 
“Once more into the breach.” Melissa responded theatrically, before the two made for their respective elevators on opposite sides of the skyscraper.
 
 
—
 
 
What the two had failed to consider, as many in such situations do… was that statistics weren’t a given certainty. They were only a vague understanding of probability. Oftentimes there were little variables. Little shifts in said probability that went unseen. Little weights that were occasionally placed to shift likelihood towards a desired outcome…
 
In Nathalie and Melissa’s case, there were a good deal fewer women in the offices this season. Many had elected to apply months in advance for time off with family instead, and of those that remained, only a third of them had actually signed up for the lottery. As it turned out, a slight bonus wasn’t worth the chance to be culled out permanently as office pigs for whatever business functions the firm would be holding in the near future. In the end, their odds could be calculated at the much more considerable one in fifteen. Add to it all that they were already ogled quite often as the office eye-candy by a few powerful individuals…
 
 
—
 
 
When the day finally arrived, merely one week exactly before Christmas, nearly the entire office somehow managed to gather in the foyer to hear the results of the drawing. Against all good reason, some two-hundred people that weren’t on vacation or necessitated elsewhere managed to fit into a single room.
 
 
They were all here for the same thing. Waiting to hear two names. Two people who would be given a rather sudden, and rather drastic, career change. Much of the gathering was a chaotic mess, until the announcer, an old, well liked fixture of a man, stepped up to the central desk and tapped a few times against the microphone.
 
“Thank you everyone for coming.” The gracefully grey gentleman began. “This is a big moment that I know everyone is excited for, but let’s quiet down a bit so we can get to the… ahem… meat of the celebration, as it were. Shall we?”
 
Nathalie and Melissa both felt a touch of anxiety well up within themselves for the seemingly brief eternity it took to have the raffle box delivered to the desk. Both felt as though their hearts jumped out of their chests when it thumped onto the desk, and gave disingenuously smiling glances to one another. The announcer’s following statement didn’t help in the slightest.
 
“As I’m sure you all know, the company’s going to be doing some cost cutting this year, so we’ve received word that we’re going to be upping the number of pulls to four in fact.”
 
There was a collective gasp from everyone present. Though the tones weren’t quite… even. While a good portion of the men seemed decidedly excited, every woman felt a piece of her soul leave her body at that.
 
“Now, without further ado, our first lucky winner is…” The man reached into the box, making a show of swirling each of the shreds of paper inside around. The crowd couldn’t be sure, but it very much felt like he was stalling for dramatic attention. The crowd collectively held its breath when he finally pulled a little scrap out and unfolded it… “Nathalie Forger!”
 
Nathalie’s eyes widened. For the tiniest span of time she considered breaking for the front door. It was so close, but there were so many people… Many of whom would be quite cross with her if she tried. In the end… all the girl could do was stand, paralyzed with disbelief, until a group of men quietly gripped her by the shoulder before escorting her to the desk.
 
Melissa couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for her friendly rival. Neither had actually expected to reap the consequences of their hubristic little squabble. More than anything however, she was relieved that it wasn’t her up there, with her expensive suit and skirt being… ripped from her body… by gorgeous… strong… men. She swallowed hard. What was this feeling, gnawing at her nethers? This invasive tingle. She bit her lip. Nathalie didn’t offer so much as a peep as she was stripped. Melissa recognized the face her friend gave, staring out over the whooping and hollering congregation. It was a disbelieving look that nonverbally said “If I don’t acknowledge this, it isn’t real.” in denial.
 
Once the massive group had quieted down again, the announcer dared to reach in once more, hoping to be able to speak before there was another wave of excitement. “Amy Schumacher!” There was a squeal from “winner” number two, before she too was led up front.
 
“That’s it.” Melissa told herself, even as she was laser focused on her humiliated rival. “Just gotta last two more.”
 
“Emily Bright!”
 
Melissa was on cloud nine. Sure she still felt bad for Nathalie, but she was so close to being out of the woods, so to speak. She’d never sign up for something so recklessly again if she could just last this one…
 
“Melissa Kirby!”
 
Melissa’s eyes rounded like watermelons. Did she hear correctly? Surely she'd misheard. Moments later she felt two firm hands tap her on the shoulder. Despite it all… that sensation… between her legs didn’t leave. In fact, she was certain it was stronger now than ever…
 
 
Just as soon as that, she felt two tough hands grip her at both shoulders, and without further ado begin to shove her forward through the crowd. Melissa didn't have to see the crowd's eyes on her. She could practically feel them already, even humiliatedly staring at the ground as she was for the walk.
 
 
The young woman stopped paying attention to what the announcer was saying. Truthfully she already knew what was going on. She'd been through these motions before, albeit on the other side of the crowd. When she arrived at the desk, she only managed a meek, sympathetic glance in Nathalie's direction.
 
 
Within moments, both former secretaries, alongside their new comrade in the equally former janitor Emily, were stripped to the pork in front of a massive crowd of people who were only seconds ago their colleagues. The entire experience wasn’t unlike highschool dreams the three of them might have had. Helplessly showing up to class in the buff. Mercilessly mocked by their peers. It was uncomfortably familiar.
 
 
“Thank you everyone for participating!” This close, the women could hear the announcer's voice directly, without having to rely on the speakers. “We'll have these lovely pieces of meat processed and available for you in as little as a day. For now, how about a round of applause for our lucky winners?”
 
 
The roar of hands clapping was anything but admiring or respectful. It was equal parts jeering, and excited at the prospect of acquiring some new office pets. All three women knew exactly what was going through many in the crowd's minds. When do we eat?
 
 
—
 
 
The entire registration process went by in a bewildering blur for Nathalie, Melissa, and Emily. There was the obligatory dehumanization process. Revoking their status as citizens and instead declaring the poor women as livestock. However the clerk was surprisingly expedient. Not that it would have mattered, but the three of them weren't even able to squeak out a single question before he'd finished, and just like that, all three of them were relegated to a very specific room on the thirteenth floor…
 
 
Amy however, didn't fare quite so quickly, or as easily. It seemed there was a bit of a hiccup in the pleasantly plump woman's paperwork. While the other three couldn't quite make out exactly what was being discussed, they were able to make out one surprised, frightened exclamation as they were led away…
 
 
“Wh-what?! Berkshire Farms?!” came the poor woman's shocked voice…
 
 
—
 
 
“Well… at least the hay is nice and soft.” Melissa offered rather unspiritedly, as she leaned over the railing of her stall to look at her former rival.
 
 
“Do they have to make it all this demeaning?!” was Nathalie's response. “I feel like I'm at an old fashioned barn!”
 
 
“It's just part of the anesthetic.” Emily chirped in. She gently swayed the chain leash that tethered her to the wall. An pastime all three of the women shared, with little else to do in the moment. “Gives the employees something whimsical to look forward to when headed in her.”
 
 
“But we are employees!” both Nathalie and Melissa blurted out simultaneously.
 
 
At this, Emily simply shrugged. “Were employees you mean…”
 
 
As much as Nathalie was already fully aware of this, to hear someone else say it so bluntly, stung like a cold winter wind. “You don't have to be so harsh about it.” she whined.
 
 
“Who's being harsh? It's just the facts.” Emily then leaned over the railing to look Nathalie in the eyes. “It won't be so bad. No responsibilities. Three square meals a day.”
 
 
“No responsibilities except being tasty…” Melissa winced at her own joke. Though… the prospect wasn't entirely unpalatable to her, for reasons she didn't quite allow herself to understand yet.
 
 
“Well, yeah. There's that.” Emily conceded.
 
 
“Over and over again…” continued Melissa.
 
 
“Right…” Emily fidgeted in place. “But you know… The hard work's already done for us.”
 
 
Nathalie simply sighed, and crumpled against the back wall. “Well… I guess we tempted fate one too many times, huh Melissa?”
 
 
“Y-yeah…”
 
 
“Nothing to do now but wait and see what happens next…”
 
 
There was a long, uncomfortable pause between the three, for what seemed like an age, before Melissa finally broke the silence…
 
 
“I bet I'll taste better than you though~”
 
 
—
 
 
The evening passed without the three of them being fully aware. With little to do other than eat or sleep, both Nathalie and Emily chose the latter. Melissa however, had chosen to fulfill that… certain sensation that had been nagging at her nethers since the drawing.
 
 
Just think… all those eyes… on you… The thought rippled through her consciousness like a sea beast breaking calm surface waters. Unmistakable. Unavoidable. Very quickly it became all she could focus on. So much attention, levied on her body. Would it really be so bad?
 
 
The next day she was able to test that question.
 
 
The sounds of the morning shift rustling through the building told the women that it was eight-o-clock, which meant that it would only be a few hours until the staff were on break. There was no doubt they'd be itching to try out the new company toys when that time came. In all honesty, as terrifying as that might have seemed at any other time, all three freshly minted company pigs quickly became convinced that anything to break the boredom might have been preferable, and when the time inevitably came, they were as mentally prepared as they possibly could have been.
 
 
The first wave of… clients… entered, still clad in smart suits and boasting carefully maintained hairstyles. This was the standard fare really, when the company acquired new pets. Most still recalled when the pigs were still… people, and there were some leftover socially ingrained habits to at least try to be polite. However, seeing the vulnerable women put completely on display allowed their more… primal instincts to take over soon after.
 
 
Emily was the first to see real use. Her former shift manager had known her the most intimately. It only made sense to jump into this next step. After a quick unzip, and a few trepidatious whimpers from the girl, he planted his member between the surprised former-janitor's lips, getting a satisfying smack while the other women watched with morbid interest.
 
 
Emily had never felt anything like this before. Much to her surprise, the bitterness she expected to experience at being so horribly objectified, despite her statements the previous night… never occurred to her. At least… not to the degree she considered would have been reasonable. Unable to exactly… express how she felt, all the girl could do was look up rather pathetically into her first… “customer’s” eyes, though her expression was appreciated just a bit more by her fellow animals, at the same level as her in more than one way.
 
Melissa simply stared on, unconcerned with the men in the room with her, or at the very least, unconcerned with the fact that they were, indeed men. Deep in the recesses of her mind, the woman knew it wouldn’t have mattered if they were men, women, or animals. What stirred her the most… What roused her nethers… was the knowledge that she was seen. Not seen as a co-worker, or even a woman, but as a thing. Something to be desired and lusted after. This intensity very quickly reached a point that she simply couldn’t contain any longer, and to her own stimulating embarrassment, she swung her body around, presenting herself like nothing more than a treasure to be claimed. It was lurid, and shameful… and now she knew for certain that she wouldn’t have it any other way. Before any of the clientele had even begun to reach her, she was already reaching behind herself to stroke her delicate flower, giving not soft moans, but desperate, needy grunts. When one of the men finally decided to accept her invitation, her mind simply… melted. Was she happy? Was she relieved? Did it matter?
 
This was of course, much to the shock of her peer. Nathalie could only watch in bewildered, captive, frightened interest. There’d always been some sort of understanding between the two. They were friends… in a distant sense at least. To see Melissa debase herself in such a way, seeing a side that likely even she herself never knew existed… It was shocking.
 
And yet… shortly after, when Melissa’s eyes met hers with such a primal satisfaction she couldn’t help but think. Maybe there was something to that surrender.
 
That was when… apparently… it was her own turn to experience the utility she was expected to provide. The next man pressed his member square between the violetette’s curvy bosom. Initially, all Nathalie could respond with was a moderately surprised gasp. She’d expected this treatment of course, but that didn’t change the fact that she was still soft. Uncalloused. She apparently lacked whatever enthralled the others for the moment. Still, at the risk of being checked in for her… other use sooner, she gave it her damndest. Her hands awkwardly came up to meet her breasts at their sides, before she stunted proceeded to slide them up, and down. It was degrading and a demonstration of how she’d fallen… but for the moment it was all she had.
 
 
“Not as much of a natural as the others eh?” The man's judgment was frighteningly cutting. “You know what? That's perfectly fine.” He stroked a single hand through Nathalie's hair, patronizingly. It didn't take long for the takers to grow more comfortable, it seemed. “Breaking them in is just as much fun as enjoying an eager one.”
 
 
This was met with a roar of patriotically masculine laughter by every man present, but an eyeroll of annoyance by a single woman in the back.
 
 
The man then carefully, but firmly gripped Nathalie's hair. “Take a lesson from the janitor.” He turned her head to face Emily. “Use the lips. Softly…”
 
 
Before Nathalie could even react, she found her face pressed downwards, towards her breasts, and of course, towards the man's increasingly frustrated member as well. She couldn't afford to be resistant, and she knew it. Wincing slightly, she let her lips grace the man's tip, holding herself there as she built up the courage to proceed. Her soft mouth then enveloped the man's bellend, and she once again proceeded to shift her breasts.
 
 
“Eh… needs work. But we'll work on it, won't we girl?” He ruffled Nathalie's hair as if he were roughly petting a dog.
 
 
None of the three pigs were given much rest when their inauguration was finished. Afforded only a few quick seconds to… clean up at the nearby sink, they were forced into their next use immediately after. Even the woman who'd been patiently waiting for all of the bulls to leave, enjoyed a quick bit of… lip licking when all was said and done.
 
 
—
 
 
The pattern continued, three times a day. Two shifts with two breaks each. It wasn't long before it became frighteningly routine for the three of them. Using a discarded marker dropped by one of their countless visitors, Emily soon began to keep a tally of each of their individual… uses. After what felt like a week, it seemed Melissa was on the lead by nine strikes over Emily, at a total of fifty-four. Both Nathalie and Emily certainly had their fans of course, but it seemed Melissa was something of a hit, given her… enthusiasm. This was a moderate blow to Nathalie, who lagged behind at forty-three. Both retained their competitive spirit to some degree, but in the end, the point of the record wasn't to keep score. It was… something of a pressure gauge. A way to determine just how long they could last until their… big day.
 
 
—
 
 
Curious to the two former secretaries, was that, in all of this time, they'd never once seen Mark enter their little barn. Were they not… pretty enough for him? Was he above all this? But… he'd seemed so humored to hear of their entry. Of course the one man they'd be tickled pink to be ravaged by didn't show…
 
 
At least, he hadn't for some time. The three pigs, as it were, had quickly lost track of what day it truly was without access to any sort of calendar. They knew that the much awaited… and to them… much dreaded Christmas barbecue was somewhere over the horizon, but had no guarantee how far over the horizon it truly was. They simply… did their “jobs” always telling themselves that it was “a week or so away” no matter how many days had passed, for the sake of their sanity.
 
 
That was, until they were plainly enough told.
 
 
“Hello my adorable little piglets~” Mark's voice was simultaneously shocking and enticing for the women to hear. “Guess what day it is?”
 
 
Nathalie froze in place. It wasn't… It couldn't be… could it?
 
 
Even the more surrenderous Melissa and Emily couldn't help but wince in expectant panic for a moment, filling the air with a very emotionally pregnant pause. They weren't ready yet. They'd really begun to enjoy themselves. So… soon?
 
 
Mark allowed them to hold their fear for several seconds before continuing. “Nah. It's not Christmas Eve yet.”
 
 
The women all gave a collective sigh of relief. However, it was short lived when the young man continued.
 
 
“Tomorrow is, though. And yours truly has been selected to be on the cooking crew. So, let's go ladies. To my office. I'd like to get to know you all better before I put you over the fire.” With that, he casually stepped forward to unlock the leashes which had kept them bound for so long to the wall, instead holding them in his hands.
 
 
The women theoretically could have run. They could have pleaded for a bit more time or… tried to show how much more fun they would be at the party still kicking… but they didn't. They weren't sure if, perhaps they'd lost their minds or given up. They did know, from their countless hours of use, that speaking rarely got them anywhere anymore, and they'd spent so long hoping for a rendezvous with this one in particular, they simply didn't want to sabotage it. As such, the trip to the man's office was quiet, and contemplative, under the mocking gazes of former co-workers along the way.
 
 
“My my. Such well behaved animals~” remarked their new handler as he closed the door behind himself. “Now… I've got a bit more to wrap up tonight, so let's try to keep that hmm?” He looked the trio square in the eyes. “Emily, I want you under my desk. Melissa, some full body eye candy in front of me. Nathalie? I'll have you at my side. Keep those lovely udders accessible would you?”
 
 
Nathalie sheepishly obeyed, setting down on her knees as close to the young man as her courage would allow. She didn't care that he would be the one to cook her, tomorrow even. At least… in this moment she didn't. For now she was more than content to be so close to him. To be so easily touched by him. Mark was a good few years younger than both she and Melissa, and it was always validating to feel… desired by such a lad. Nathalie watched with some jealousy as Mark reached forward to pat the more hidden Emily on the head.
 
 
Seemingly wise to this, the young man gave her a humored look, and softly pinched one of her teats. Not to leave Melissa out, he then gave a command to twirl, before giving an approving nod at her acquiescence. Truthfully, none of them, least of all him, expected to get any work done tonight. It was a mere two days before Christmas. Even the company loosened up around this time. Mark merely pretended to pour over files on his computer for an hour, now and again admiring the three lovely meatgirls who currently decorated his office.
 
 
“Melissa… I'd like you v to come here and spend some time with Nathalie would you?” he finally asked, closing his laptop and giving a stretch. “Don't think I haven't thought about your silly spat all these years. Off and on… I think it's time you two made up. Don't you?”
 
 
Melissa quickly made her way to her rival's side, if only out of obedience to the charming young up-and-comer. “M-madec up?” she asked confusedly. Neither she nor Nathalie truly disliked each other, but it seemed the office overall had developed a… different narrative for them over time. “How do you mean?”
 
 
Mark smiled somewhat evilly. He was clearly intoxicated with the power he had over them, but… he was more subtle about his desire. More patient than the breaktime chumps who frequently used them. “You can start with a kiss…”
 
 
Nathalie and Melissa looked awkwardly at each other. Both were straight as a board or… do they'd convinced themselves all their lives. Nathalie had become something of a favorite of a certain female manager but… there was no relationship there. Nothing to build on. Melissa however, she'd known for ages. This wound change the way the two looked at each other irreparably, and yet…
 
 
Melissa was the first to act. Initially puckering up uncertainly. It was… Mark who told them to. It wasn't like they had a choice in the matter. Nathalie next leaned forward stiffly. The two held this position for a good several seconds before moving on.
 
 
Nathalie wasn't sure if she lost her balance or… of something more primal moved her. Before she knew what was happening, she'd rather suddenly covered the rest of the distance, to the simultaneous, muffled gasp of both of their surprise. Melissa's lips were soft. Warm. It was surprisingly not as alien a sensation as she imagined it would have been.
 
 
Melissa took the next step, much more decisively moving her mouth to find the… most reactive points on Nathalie's. Her hands then wrapped around the hips of her rival, and quickly gave a tight squeeze. It felt so… right. So welcoming and natural.
 
 
Nathalie then gripped Melissa at the shoulders, pulling their bosoms together acceptingly. Within moments soft moans carried out from them, and it was impossible for the others u know which exactly was vocalizing at any given moment. Before either girl realized what they were doing, their hands slipped between the two of them to explore the feminine anatomy they shared. It was absolutely electric. The world around them grew distant. In this moment… there was only each other…
 
 
“Good girls. I had a feeling there was something repressed about you two…” Mark thought for a moment, before unzipping his own trousers. “Emily… if you please…”
 
 
Emily took a moment for it to click what Mark had exactly commanded. Initially she was far too distracted by the behavior of her compatriots to… realize much of anything at the moment. Soon enough however, she began to silently pad away for the next hour, while Nathalie and Melissa explored their new horizons.
 
 
—
 
 
None of them were really sure exactly when they were returned to their pens. The primal reward of sensual gratification proved so intense as to utterly drain them by the end of it. It had also been… at least then, a viable distraction from the… upcoming event. They awoke the next day to Mark’s voice once again, and the sight of a small crew of cooks behind him, ready to fulfill the next part of the girls’ contract.
 
“Let’s get up girls. It’s time for the big event~” Mark’s voice was melodious as ever, if a bit… demeaning
 
“Wakey wakey…” one of the others began, their silhouettes still fuzzy to the groggy pigs.
 
“Eggs and bakey…” continued yet another.
 
“At least… the bacon part…”
 
 
It was at this that realization finally dawned on the three of them, and with a collective whimper, they waited to be unleashed, before flinchingly allowing themselves to be led to the kitchen. The men seemed to enjoy their wide-eyed, shakey expressions the entire way, whispering among themselves about “always loving this part” among other things.
 
 
If nothing else, the building's primary lounge was quite luxurious, compared to what most companies offered. A trio of human sized ovens lined the far wall, their polished designs eye-catchingly contemporary to any and everyone present. Beside them was a tiled, closed shower in which to clean fresh meat. Such things had become standard, once cannibalism had been normalized, but it was very different looking at such fixtures with the knowledge that they would very soon be used on oneself, rather than admiring the modernity from “afar”.
 
 
Emily was the first to be hosed down while the other two watched. The men were nothing if not… thorough. The high pressure water practically pushed her against the wall of its own accord. Much more when they were pressing the faucet cruelly against her bare flesh. By the end of her harrowing experience the girl was sopping wet, with her hair draped like a shiny curtain over her face. Before she could so much as move her hair out of her eyes, she was tugged out and replaced by a very trembling Nathalie, then placed under what could only be described as an industrial blowdrier.
 
 
Nathalie too was subjected to the same pressure-washing and subsequent wind gust, just before both were placed harshly onto the nearby marble table like nothing more than slabs of meat. She spared a glance at Melissa, enjoying her own water beat-down now, and had a moment of frightening lucidity. This was really happening. She really was going to be consumed by the people who she once worked alongside. She was no longer Nathalie. She was simply a pig. Instinctively she sat upright, her body washing to leave, but her legs didn't obey. They simply dangled there, just off the side of the table, waiting for one of the men to take… and use her.
 
 
Mark, much to her delight, finally took the invitation. After digging underneath a nearby cabinet, he materialized what could only be described as some sort of… electronic helmet, and made his way to the purple-haired beauty.
 
 
“For our first lovely piglet~” he began in singsong tone, placing the thing carefully onto Nathalie's head. “We've got to do this properly after all.”
 
 
Nathalie could hear a slight buzz, ringing in the back of her ears as the device did… something. The anxiety of wondering what it could be doing to her, she was certain, than if she had known that it would have ended her right then and there. Her imagination swam with confused, frightened possibilities, but just as that fear was about to reach a head, the helmet was removed. What changed? Was she still the same? Was he hair removed? No. That wasn't it, she could still feel it draping over her shoulders. So, what happened?
 
 
She didn't get an answer to that question. Instead, Mark held a hand gently over her shoulder, and carefully pushed her onto her back.
 
 
“Legs up dear.” His voice was authoritative, yet soft somehow. Nathalie found that she didn't have the willpower to resist. The man was a hypnotic genie. With a single motion she lifted both feet high in the air, for Mark to gently grip her at the thighs and push inwards. “I know exactly the perfect pose to place two sapphic pigs in… he remarked, just in time for Melissa to be placed beside Nathalie. With that, he then pressed her feet back down, until they were folded over her chest and finally pressed to the sides. He then, delicately threaded a few lengths of cooking twine to thoroughly bind the girls legs in exactly that pose.
 
 
“Mhhh… Lovely. A treat for the eyes as well as the tongue…” At that he took a step back, admiring his work as any good chef does, before continuing again. “But it's definitely wanting something.” he remarked. The look on his face said that he'd already considered this. It was no new revelation. Rather, he was simply speaking for the theatrics of it all.
 
 
Shortly after, both Melissa and Emily had their own, helmet treatment given, and when it was all said and done, Mark, with the help of another cook on the opposite side of the table, delicately lifted the now bound Melissa, only to place her on top of Nathalie's surprised body. Though they were tied tightly into the same pose, with their arms secured behind their backs, Melissa was made to face downwards, staring directly at her coworker's bare, vulnerable womanhood. Similarly, Nathalie's eyes were made to stare up at Melissa's very… available cooch. They were doing this on purpose. Both women knew this was for nothing other than show, and yet…
 
 
Nathalie acted first, craning her neck upwards to taste the delicate flower above her. This was much to Melissa's surprise. Though Melissa knew the reasoning behind the display, she herself was much more given to the knowledge that she was going to roast in an oven. She was going to pass slowly into the heat, and then what?
 
 
Nathalie didn't seem to care as much, or perhaps she did care, but was far too given to more immediate concerns. Maybe… she wanted to go out with a bang. Truthfully even she herself wasn't sure. All she knew, was that a love button and love slit, were placed generously before her. She'd be a fool not to act on the opportunity.
 
 
Initially Melissa's more pragmatic reaction won out. The woman shifted and groaned frustratedly for a solid minute, until Nathalie seemed to flick the proper switch in her. In an instant, Melissa froze in place, much to the smirking smiles of everyone present. It was humorous to them that she would be so resistant now, when every report of her time in the stable said she was often the first to… initiate. Now, the much shyer Nathalie was far more gung-ho than either of the trio had been for their entire time since being culled. She’d fired first, and it took Melissa some time to respond in kind.
 
Now however, Melissa’s own tongue cautiously lowered itself onto Nathalie’s waiting and eager womanhood. Her tongue slid over Nathalie’s petals like a textured toy, perfectly lubricated, and it wasn’t long before Nathalie was reduced to a mewling kitten. The two continued their waltz for several minutes, while the cooks observed approvingly, milling about and finishing the last preparations before the experience de resistance for the piglets. The steps of their dance were abrupt, frequently shifting from one to the other as they transitioned from their own orgasmic bliss, to attempting to provide the same for the other. All the while, Emily was left to watch, wishing she could have been so lucky as her peers.
 
 
Neither Nathalie nor Melissa seemed to realize when they were lifted up by two of the men and carried over to a large silver platter beside one of the ovens. Truthfully they both knew they were short on time. Now was the time to act. Not to wallow in the anxiety of what was coming, while they still had a chance. The sounds of their wet connections rang out even to those who weren't in the kitchen. Anyone passing through the hallway would have easily been able to make out the sounds of their sapphic desperation without need for much imagination.
 
 
There was still work to be done however. Though the two didn't see the bowl of aromatic, savory oils that was dropped beside them, they certainly could smell it. That certain weighty, delicious scent of earthy herbs. It wafted through the air, dominating it, and only serving to make everyone all the more hungry. Being on top as she was, Melissa was the first to feel a pair of hands dollop a generous amount of the stuff unto her back. It was cold, thick, and messy to say the least, and she didn't care. If anything the two only increased their connection, knowing that this were progressing with or without their consent. Why bother interrupting themselves?
 
 
Next, Nathalie felt one hand carefully lift her head to begin slathering the substance between her shoulders. This only pressed her face more intensely into Melissa's womanhood, much to the latter's squealing delight. Those same hands then skillfully slid underneath the entirety of Nathalie's body, stopping to give her rear a firm squeeze and spreading the flavorful substance into every nook and cranny.
 
 
Shortly after, those same hands wedged themselves in between the girls, feeling as their bodies slid and writhed over one another. To Nathalie, it was a strangely stirring sensation. Her torso was unusually sensitive, and feeling body contact shift from Melissa to this cook's, and then back again was bizarrely stimulating. It was all so overwhelming, and the feeling of the oil providing a buffer somehow made everything new and fresh once again. There was the same pressure between them, but less friction. I'm a way it was almost liberating. Allowing them to continue, but faster… with less effort. Allowing them to maximize the tactile sensations they were sharing. It was… mind blowing.
 
 
Emily could only stare, jealously, at the two while waiting for her own turn for a bit of… attention. Nathalie and Melissa really were going at it, and to the degree that they could, given what was coming they really were… enjoying themselves. To the side she noticed one of the men stirring something in a separate bowl. Something that, even from this distance, she could smell the spice on. It seemed she was to be a dish with a bit more… kick, than the others.
 
 
The man continued to mix and blend the pepper heavy mixture for some time, now and again taking a spoonful to his lips to taste before shaking his head and adding yet more. All the while, Mark and a few others had changed gears, looking through the kitchen's offering of vegetables that looked particularly… fun.
 
 
Emily couldn't help but be amazed at just how well stocked the lounge was. Certainly this little, yearly tradition was important to the company but… it was still somewhat surprising that the place was prepared just as well as any professional kitchen. And to think that so many of the business suits here were also accomplished cooks… of a sort. If its normal endeavors went bankrupt, it might have had potential as a restaurant chain instead.
 
 
It occurred to her then how ridiculous it was to remain affixed to those thoughts, considering what was very soon going to happen to her. Regardless, she didn’t have time to keep on that train of thought, as the man finally gave a satisfactory nod, then carried the piquant mixture over to the waiting girl.
 
 
Emily couldn’t help but flinch and stiffen in place, knowing all that capsaicin was very soon to grace her bare skin. She craned her neck away, as if somehow keeping her head at a distance would keep the coming pain far away. Much like the others, she knew fully well that it was still physically possible to at least attempt an escape, but something was willing her to remain. Something deep, or institutionalized into her. Her wincing expression only grew more pronounced when the cook forcibly lifted her arm and began to rub the sauce into her. Initially, it was surprisingly cold. The ingredients had been sitting in a freezer for days, at least, so it made some sense. However, the heat from the spice itself took precedence shortly after. It traveled over her in strangely pulsing waves that drew wide eyed gasps from her every time they waxed in strength.
 
 
“Oh, you’ll get used to it, pig.” the man offered, chuckling slightly to himself. “You’ll come to prefer it over the next step. Believe me.”
 
 
Emily knew he wasn’t wrong, but the unique way it all felt was dominating her every thought at the moment. She’d loved spicy food, herself… before all this. At least the chicken cutlets she’d eaten didn’t exactly get to experience the preparation part alive. She didn’t quite have that luxury.
 
 
Nearer the ovens, Mark had been examining a particularly “tasty” looking pair of gourds for some time now, and it seemed he’d finally come to a decision. Nathalie was the first to be “blessed” by the chosen stuffing, as he pressed the vegetable rather harshly into her waiting womanhood. Naturally, he’d had to lift Melissa a touch to find the space to insert, but he wasn’t without consideration for the girls’ fun. Once he was content with its depth and position, he guided the upper girl’s lips back to the gourd, and pressed her into it, allowing her to… control its use once again.
 
 
Nathalie gave out a loud shriek of unrestrained, overwhelming pleasure once again, and before she could regain whatever semblance of composure she had left, Mark proceeded to gag her with the second fruit.
 
 
“You still have your half to continue dear.” he reminded her, before next guiding her higher lips back to Melissa’s lower.
 
 
The phallic stuffing was more than filling for the girls. Both were immediately certain that it was larger than any member they’d taken over the past few weeks, and weren’t quite sure if their selection was merciful to their needs, or cruel to their bodily limits. Not that their opinions mattered exactly…
 
 
With a few grunting hefts, three of the men lifted Melissa, Nathalie, and platter into the air, only to carefully lower them to the nearest oven's waiting maw. Both girls couldn't help but flinch slightly. The sensation was almost physical, as though they'd been buffeted by a warm pillow that gave Melissa a soft blow to the face, and Nathalie one to her nethers. This was it. It really was their time to go now.
 
 
The only thing they could do in this moment, as the immediacy of their fate was more obvious than ever, was to keep their motions going. To speed up even. Even when the oven door separated them from the outside kitchen with a flinch-inducing thunk, or perhaps because of it, the two absolutely could not stop. Their wet, messy, vegetable assisted lovemaking rang out to everyone nearby in a persistent rhythm, which the appliance-muffled sound only made all the more lewd, crude and… delicious. The cooking crew couldn't help but spare a few bemused glances their way. It was everything by the numbers. Even more perfect than last year's feast, who'd frustratingly gone stiff with panic.
 
 
And there was still one piglet left to enjoy. Emily herself was caught up in the… theater of watching her barn-mates through the glass window. They really were like nothing more than animals in heat.
 
Right now, however, she knew it would do well for her to focus on her own… experience. Without the other two to keep the groping hands off the voluntary staff elsewhere, suddenly she found a barrage of fingers back on her. This only served to rub the hot sauce all the more into her already sensitive skin, which drew more than a few well-appreciated shrieks from the girl.
 
 
Soon enough, to her great panic, that became the least of her worries. Two of the men gripped at her well used womanhood, then pulled as wide as they dared without tearing the poor thing. Before Emily could even react, a third she hadn't even seen approach her then reached deep inside, his hands full of some sort of soft substance. Initially she struggled to imagine just what he was doing, but when he pulled out, leaving the gooey stuff inside her she knew. He was stuffing her like a Thanksgiving bird. What was worse… shortly after she felt the same burning sensation as before, only now it was… inside. They'd laced it with the same sauce!
 
 
She instinctively began to tug and kick at the hands that held her down, but it didn't deter any of the cooks a bit. In fact they seemed to enjoy her reactions. Though she'd known it already, it was still a shock. To them, she wasn't a person. She was an animal. Cattle to serve a single end goal. The third man didn't relent either. His hand repeated the same motions over and over, until she felt bloatedly full. Before Emily could even accept what had happened, following a brief trip to the stovetop above Nathalie and Melissa, it was already time for the next step…
 
 
It wasn't fair! The others had been given as VIP a treatment as pigs could get, while she was now held above a freshly affixed griddle-top, covered in painful fluids and filled to bursting. It only took a few short moments for the men to tie her delicate wrists and ankles to the corner of the griddle, with her breasts firmly and painfully pressed down against one of the raised bars, and even less time for them to flick the gas dial to medium heat. At first, Emily felt nothing, but within a few seconds she felt a gradual warmth, and then… a stinging heat.
 
 
Their work done for the moment, Mark and the others simply sat back, and waited, watching hungrily. Emily's panicked squeals contrasted with Nathalie and Melissa's more sensual groans, resulting in a stirring number that worked their libidos as much as it did their appetite. In time, they allowed themselves to work on various side dishes, while the women grew quieter and quieter.
 
 
—
 
 
It took some time, but soon enough Emily was reduced to pathetic groans. Even Nathalie and Melissa had grown silent. Before long a considerable group was gathered just outside the kitchen, drawn by the mouthwatering scent of roasted and grilled femme. With what little vivacity they had left, the three meatgirls could almost swear they could hear everyone outside, talking about their personal experiences with the pigs like they were swapping war stories, or fish tales.
 
 
It would have been so much more humiliating… if the women weren't all focused on their impending end. The bright glow of the oven seemed dull now for the two inside. Gradually, even the sounds from outside grew increasingly muffled, leaving them only the noise of their own, sizzling flesh to consider. It was strangely insulating, bring cooked alive. Not that… that exactly made their last minutes of consciousness any more placid really. This was it. It was really it! Just like that… spurred by a moment of playful competitiveness all those weeks ago… both Nathalie and Melissa faded into the ether….
 
 
—
 
 
Nathalie awoke first, gasping and staring wide-eyed out of the tank. The last thing she remembered was that… helmet? Was that what it was called? That thing… placed on her head…
 
 
“Ah. There you are my sweet piglet.” came Mark's soft voice. Nathalie remembered his tone, and his face… but it took her some time to recall… exactly who he was.
 
 
“Where… we… at?” The words came with some difficulty, as though she were speaking an unfamiliar language. Something felt off. As though she'd been mentally… diminished somehow. “Dinner?”
 
 
“Yes we did have you for dinner dear, and you were absolutely delicious.” explained the handsome lad. He gave Nathalie a look. One that strangely left her with no question of his authority. “Now all we need is to wait for Melissa to wake up, and I'll show you to my barn. Given the way you two behaved when fully cognizant, you're going to love meeting the pigs I kept from last year…”