Family Matters

The next minute as she proceeded down the corridor was the longest in her life. Nurse did not rush her, but kept her moving with an occasional slap of the leash on her back.

Past a door marked "Conference" and a heavier one labeled "Cold Storage". They stopped at the third, "Termination & Dissection".

The moment approached that she had dreaded ever since she asked her husband to make her a slave. She knew it would come to this someday - everyone told her - but she was not ready for it. She expected to be sold at today's market to a wealthy man or a brothel and spend years in service, not to be dismembered before sundown.

But this was what she bargained for when she became a chattel; she must obey her owner. Her mind understood and accepted her fate even as her body shrank from it.

She began to tremble and cry as the woman opened the door. And somehow - she did not know why - it excited her to know her end was growing near. She entered the room.

It was larger than she expected. In the center was an operating table covered with some gray metal; zinc probably.

So wide, and mounted on a massive pedestal. At first she did not understand. Then she remembered her ex-husband's first wife, sold to Patricia who fattened her up for sale. They would need a wide sturdy table to hold her. She briefly imagined the massive woman hoisting herself on the table to be tied down and stripped like a whale of her blubber.

At one end of the room was a mirror; no, it was a window for an audience on the other side to view the procedure. She wondered who was seated behind it to enjoy the show and watch her final moments. Perhaps they rated girls on their performance.

Buckets of different colors freshly washed and ready to receive her stood on the floor, neatly labeled: brain, liver, breasts, vagina. She wondered why the last one was blue; surely it should be pink for the most feminine of a girl's organs.

On a wall was a rack with knives of all sizes, from small for close work - severing ligaments or boning, perhaps - to one that was almost a sword. Next to them was a rack of saws. On another was a stack of large metal trays for her limbs. She took it all in with wide eyes.

Nurse released her bracelets; she knelt, kissed the woman's hands and got up on the table.

She wanted any watchers to see how meekly she went, soft and gentle without the slightest resistance, in honor to her masters' training. She hoped the boy Arnold was there; she would try to make him proud of his stepmother.

Faith lay on her back as Nurse fastened her wrists and ankles down to the table. To prevent wriggling, she remembered.

She reveled in the beauty of her surrender: bound hand and foot naked on a table. Her dream when she first saw the handcuffs in her husband's bureau twelve months ago had come true.

Nurse picked up a whetstone and began to sharpen one of the knives; medium size, about that of a steak knife. The sound reminded Faith of her husband sharpening them in the kitchen, he loved to do that while she watched.

He never used one on her though. No, he would surely prefer to watch while someone else did; her stepson, say. The thought of Arnold approaching her with a knife in his hand gave her a delightful little shudder. They would both have enjoyed their roles.

She saw the woman take a wire garrote from a hook on the wall. Good, she was to be strangled; quick and painless, she was grateful for that. Nurse put it loosely around her neck. Only a little while now; she waited quietly to be done and carved up for her "useful parts".

Minutes passed. Perhaps this waiting was part of the process. She embraced whatever they wished for her; she was their property. Again she thanked her ex-husband for taking her on and teaching her submission to the will of others.

She wondered if wife number three had moved into his house yet; he acted quickly at times, he could train her and have her ready for sale at the spring lady-market.

Nurse touched her garrote and she jumped. Now? No, the woman was just turning it. Her breasts bounced a little but she was glad her hands and feet were fastened.

The woman dried the tears on her cheeks with a tissue and Faith smiled her thanks.

She stood beside the table for a moment, then put one hand on Faith's chest and began to massage the breasts. It was stimulating and relaxing at the same time.

The hand moved down to her belly, gently stroking it while the other one reached between her legs. Faith's ankles were fastened down but she was able to open her knees a little.

The woman placed a pair of bony fingers into the cleft and probed until she found the sensitive nub, then slowly ran the edge of a fingernail across it.

Faith's hips jumped a short distance off the table and she began to moan. Her limbs, pinned to the tabletop, strained against their bonds.

Nurse brought her subject to a climax; then another and another. She continued the exercise until she was satisfied, then withdrew the hand that had reduced her patient to a jelly.

She placed a wet cloth on Faith's forehead and drew it across her bare scalp to cool her down.

Little by little Faith returned to her senses. She realized this was the "contenting" procedure just before termination to improve her meat. Eileen was right, this made it all worthwhile.

Nurse plainly enjoyed exercising her power. She can do anything she likes with me, Faith thought; and terminate me a minute later. That's why I'm here, we both know it.

The door opened and the renderer entered. Good, we can begin now.

He stood over her and looked down. She was embarrassed to find her nipples rising. Oh, more wetness between her legs too. She hoped they would not mind; perhaps this was normal for a girl about to be executed. She closed her eyes and awaited the end. Just seconds now. She came again at the thought.

He spoke. To her surprise he told Nurse to take the girl to his office. The woman released her from the table and told her to stand; she fastened Faith's hands behind her and attached her leash.

With Nurse at her back she followed him - bald, naked, and bound - into a light-filled airy room at a corner of the building.

Her eyes had cleared a little; inside it was a second man, tall, dressed in a gray tweed. The renderer told him he arrived just in time; all the other girls had been dissected, but this one was still warm.

He pointed to the green sticker on her collar; she had been checked for disease only that morning.

The stranger examined her in the usual buyer's way, squeezing her buttocks and breasts and brushing the nipples, and putting his hand between her legs. She was still juicy from Nurse and the excitement of her fear; that was good, it might make up for her red swollen eyes. She smiled and tried her best to look attractive.

He asked what her hair was like. Nurse told him and offered to bring the box of it around; he said that would not be necessary.

He stroked his chin and contemplated her. She grew unsteady on her feet as her life hung in the balance.

The man nodded yes and Nurse handed the end of her leash to him. He had just bought her; she was saved.

Her knees buckled but Nurse held her upright. The man slapped her and told her to stand straight.

He led her outside where a wrangler waited next to a pickup truck and a livestock trailer. She entered the trailer; the wrangler told her to lie down, she would be thrown around on the road.

She sank to the floor; the back gate was closed, the men got in the truck and they started home.

She found herself lying in a wet thick substance; animal manure of some kind. Pigs probably or cattle, she could not tell which. As the truck went around curves she was thrown from side to side, and within a short time her belly and thighs were coated with it. She rolled on her back to keep her face clean and soon her buttocks were covered as well.

Still, it was better than being dissected on a table at the renderer's; she relaxed and lay in the muck until they reached Mr. Kent's estate.