by hhhigh
Ed and Bob were standing just outside of the holding pen. Ed had been there for a while having brought his contribution to the beef ring earlier in the evening. Bob had joined him a few minutes ago.
“See you were able to fulfill this week’s obligation,” Bob began.
“Yeah.”
“Any problems finding this one?”
“No more than usual. Didn’t come across this one until this afternoon.
Room for a little concern getting down to the wire.”
“Looks like it was worth it. Seems like pretty prime stock to me.”
“Well,” Ed replied, “you know how our standards are. Everyone has an expectation that all the meat will be prime tender stock.”
“Guess this little heifer will certainly meet that expectation. We’ll know for sure tomorrow after she’s butchered. Seems like a good distribution of meat and fat. Don’t suppose Hec will have any trouble with her tomorrow morning, do you?”
“Naw. Bob, you know Hector’s done so many of these since we began there shouldn’t be no hitches.”
“I suppose, but you know me. Can’t help but wonder. Some of them get mighty ornery. Days I wonder if he should have help, least ways till they’re bled and hanging.”
“Bob, you worry too much, though it wouldn’t do no harm to come by a bit early, given you’re so worried. `Course you know Hec’ don’t like nobody around while he’s working.” Ed replied.
“Yeah well, seeing as how it’s my job to deliver the meat around when it’s ready, I could say I miss calculated the time, if he gets antsy.
Gonna leave her tied like that, tonight?”
“Reckon so. She’s a pretty ornery one. Never can tell what might happen.” was Ed’s reply.
Julie had been traveling in a nonchalant, easygoing manner most of the two weeks since she’d left New Brunswick. It was mid June, college had ended the last week of April. Graduation exercises would be in September. She’d continued at her part time job until the end of May and then packed up and took off. There was so much to do and see before she settled down to a life with a career. Do it now, girl, while you’re foot loose and fancy free. She was also going to have to make a decision about Ron. He kept wanting her to accept his engagement ring and set a date. Ron was a good guy, she like him – but….anyway time enough to think of all that when she got back.
Meantime, it’s just me, the road, sun, wind and freedom.
Until a couple of hours ago. Julie had just crossed over into Morrison county, Alberta. She was not aware of doing this for there were no markers to indicate the county line. A man suddenly appeared on the road, waving her down. Traveling had been quiet and easy so far and she felt no undue concern. There was time to be a good Samaritan. She pulled over, the man smiled and said how much he appreciated her stopping. Said a couple of others had nearly run him over, speeding on by. He knew it was a lot to ask, but, could she go just a little out of her way and drop him off at his father’s place. He was concerned about his father – couldn’t get him on the phone and he’d been ailing and all. His pickup had broken down coming across the shortcut a ways back. It would really help put his mind at ease if she could find it in her heart to do him this good deed.
Julie could and did. After all, she had no particular goal or schedule. Could be interesting. So they started off, the stranger having gotten in the passenger side of her not so illustrious Ford Escort. He was really nice, asking about her family, her plans about school, marriage and all such like. Julie just rattled on telling him how free and easy she was at the moment. The big decisions would get made when she got back home in September. She vaguely remembered him touching her shoulder, then everything went black.
When she became aware of her senses again she was terribly alarmed. Julie discovered that she was bound hand and foot and confined in a small pen. Almost like a jail, she thought. Worse than that, she realized that she was totally naked. Who had undressed her? Why? What had they done with her clothes? What had they done to her? There didn’t seem to be anyone around and she had no idea where she was. It was getting dark, she was scared, sore, thirsty and hungry. There was absolutely no comprehension in her mind anywhere for what this was all about; why this was happening to her – what ever that was. Not knowing, sometimes is worse than the actual experience.
Hector Barnes was up bright and early Saturday morning. Not that this was unusual. He always rose early, but Saturdays were special. He had a job to do, people depended on him. Regardless of what else you could say about him, Hector was faithful and reliable. Come hell or high water, he’d get the job done. He prided himself on that.
He shaved, showered and dressed meticulously. Made himself a pot of strong coffee to have with him as he worked. Hector opened his tool cabinet and selected a range of knives, boning saws and shears. He carefully tested each instrument, satisfying himself they were ready for business. After gently loading them into his pickup truck, he drove away.
In a few minutes he arrived at the beef ring slaughterhouse. It was a small frame structure that stood rather unobtrusively back in a grove of trees beside a slow moving stream. Cat tails and pussy willows grew in clumps along the bank. Hector enjoyed the peacefulness of the pastoral setting. As he sipped at his coffee he gathered up his tools and went on in. Sunlight was just beginning to filter in through the one small window on the east side. As always it took several moments for his eyes to adjust to the dim interior.
A long heavy wooden work bench ran along the east side wall. It was here he carefully laid out his tools. Next he went to the center of the room and checked the rope hoist. This was part of the apparatus supported by the high side walls. Large, sturdy timbers ran around the top of the walls, with a long round wooden pole of about six inches in diameter running across these timbers from he east to west side. This pole acted as a type of axle, passing through a large round wooden wheel. A hemp rope of about one inch in diameter was looped over this wooden wheel with one end attached to a winching device fastened to the north wall. To the dangling free end of the rope was attached a four foot long wooden stick about two inches in diameter.
All was well. Now it was time to check the holding pen and see what Ed had provided for livestock. Shouldn’t be any concern though, Ed always supplied prime stock when it was his turn. Hector opened the door leading into the pen. Quietly he moved into the cramped space occupied by the “heifer” placed there the night before. Good, he thought, Ed left her tethered, making his approach a safe one. He reached out with his foot and prodded her awake.
“Come on, get up. Let’s go!”
Julie stated, stifling a scream. She’d had a terrible nightmare. Her subconscious had terrified her with visions of being bound, naked, in a strange place. Any manner of misfortune had assailed her sleeping moments. Wide awake now, the numbness of her bound hands and feet convinced her she wasn’t dreaming. A giant of a man, dressed in a white apron, stood over her.
“Come on, girlie. Get up!” the rasping voice came again, followed by another nudge from a size 12 boot. Julie moaned, rolled over onto her knees and tried to stand. Strong hands grasped her hair and pulled her upright. She then was propelled towards a small doorway. Julie, her feet bound could not stay upright and sprawled on the plank floor inside the building.
“O God, please don’t,” she whimpered, “don’t hurt me.”
“God ain’t gonna hurt you girlie. Likely to be I am though.”
She felt a large hand on the back of her neck, squeezing. She cried out in pain.
“Hunch your self up there on your knees. Squeeze `em apart!”
The pressure continued on her neck forcing her head against the rough planks of the floor. Terrified, she complied though her knees were scraped as she elevated her rump and struggled to move her knees apart. Bound as she was around the ankles and her hands bound behind her it was extremely difficult. She prayed this wouldn’t hurt too much. That it would be over soon. Julie knew she was going to be raped. She’d heard stories from some of her friends. If she was lucky it wouldn’t be a brutal ordeal. She heard the rustle of clothing and a zipper being undone. Rough, calloused fingers groped her tender girl flesh. A sudden flash of pain seared her brain as a large stiff male organ made a dry invasion. Julie was no virgin. At 21 she’d had her fair share of experiences. Always she had been aroused and ready, waiting for the stiffness to enter her slippery canal. Never before had she experienced something of this size. Not even the time she and Carolyn had tried some rubber dildo’s Carolyn’s mother had.
Her dry pussy felt like she was being torn asunder. Pain centered in her private parts, radiating to all parts of her body. With each savage thrust her breasts and face were ground into the floor. The splinters that became imbedded in her tender breasts went practically unnoticed alongside the other pain.
Hector roared like the bull he was as he spent his passion in Julie’s tortured pussy. He continued for sometime to hold his position, ground against he r upturned buttocks. Gradually his invading stiffness softened and reluctantly he withdrew. He stood up and left her lying in her abused position as he went and retrieved a cigarette from a pack lying on the table. Lighting up, he crossed the few feet to where she lay sobbing to herself.
He picked up a small knife. When he stood over her again he reached down and cut the bonds securing her ankles. Hector grabbed an ankle, twisting it sharply, forcing her over on her back. Julie couldn’t fathom any further act that could humiliate or hurt her any more than had just happened. Everything she’d heard about the horrors of rape were painfully too true. Blankly she stared up at her abuser as her mind flirted with the now naive romantic ways some of them had imagined being raped by a phantom lover. She now knew how unrealistic were their girlish fantasies.
Now her legs were being forced apart as her ankles were lashed to the wooden stick Hector had lowered on the rope winch. Her mind opted not to respond. Ankles secured she felt the ropes bite into her skin as the rope began winching upward. Her bound arms and shoulders scraped along the floor as her body was hoisted upwards. In a few moments she hung by her ankles, head downward. Hanging in this way there was nothing that Hector did not see, prod or poke. He took several minutes exploring every inch of her.
Julie had already figured out that she was hanging in what could only be a primitive slaughterhouse. She just hadn’t yet figured out why. Hector was more than happy to provide an answer.
“Just so you know, girlie, this here’s a regular part of what happens round here. We got what we call a “beef ring.” That’s so every week each subscriber family gets fresh meat. They draw lots for the rotation to see which family supplies the meat for that week. In the old days the farmers supplied steers or heifers for this purpose. Since they didn’t have any freezers back then, this was a good system. Nowadays we operate on the same principle except for our preference in meat. We all have developed a taste for fresh young girl meat.”
Just my fucking luck, Julie thought. She was mildly shocked at the sudden use of the “f” word that she’d so studiously avoided using. Her parents had always taught her to share and be willing to lend a helping hand to her fellow man. That principle had landed her smack dab in the middle of a bunch of cannibals. If her parents could see her now, stripped, abused and strung up in a slaughterhouse awaiting the butcher’s knife, they’d no doubt think twice about the good Samaritan role. Then, like a ton of bricks, it hit her ….nobody was going to know her fate. She’d just vanish without a trace. That thought began to hurt more than her ankles which throbbed unmercifully carrying her entirely suspended weight. Julie tried to shift her body to find ease for her ankles. It didn’t help.
Hector noticed.
“Getting anxious now, are you girlie? Well, you’ll be done soon enough. Best draw every breath you can afore I slit your pretty little throat.” He picked up two buckets and went down to the stream to fill them with water. In a few minutes he was back, with no apparent show of exertion. Usually he did this after cutting the victims throat. They could be bleeding out as he went for the water. Guess he was getting soft, letting her live a bit longer.
He stood in the rays of glowing sunlight staring intently at Julie’s nubile young body hanging, openly displayed for his eyes only. Slowly walking around her, he took in every angle of her form, committing it to memory. Fact is, he had a photographic memory and could clearly recall every one of the women who had hung in this slaughterhouse. Each one was special in her own unique way.
He decided there was no hurry for a few more minutes. Streams of sunlight were now beginning to dance on her bare skin. It only served to make Julie more delectable. Finally he selected a small razor sharp knife and approached the suspended beauty. Julie was barely conscious, having hung by her ankles for nearly 20 minutes, the pressure of her blood pounding in her temples. Her ankles and legs hurt unbearably. She shuddered and drew in a sharp breath when Hector touched her. I’m going to die, she thought. What an ignoble way to go. Her friend Carlene, had several times expressed a somewhat morbid curiosity about how pigs were prepared for table meat, even suggesting that someday they should attend an abattoir to see the process. Last summer they had timidly approached one just outside of Carlene’s hometown of Ganton. No one was there, so they just peeked in the windows but didn’t see too much. Enough though, to let her mind figure out the type of place she now was.
She detected some movement around her ravaged pussy. Hector was slowly, methodically shaving the fine strands of pubic hair that surrounded her young womanhood. Ultimately her entire body was cleanly shaven with no trace whatsoever of hair remaining. Julie’s dulled senses thought he said, “Girlie, when you are done by Hector, you’ve been done by the best there is.”
Julie wasn’t aware that he had switched knives. He held a long slender bladed knife in his right hand and stood behind her. Her smooth up-turned cunt was right at eye level for this hulking giant. His left hand reached around to her chin and pulled her neck back sharply, leaving her throat taut and exposed. The blade flashed , blood spurted, bright red, and flowed down into a shallow channel in the floor. Julie did not feel the blade cut her throat, such was the keen edge of the blade and the expertise of the butcher. Her eyes were rapidly growing dim, she couldn’t focus on the room any longer. A chill was creeping up her legs. A couple of mild tremors and her body hung limp and still. Hector cut the bonds that bound her wrists letting her arms fall free. This movement caused her body to sway spattering drops of blood about.
Hector probed the slaughtered girls cunt with giant fingers until he found and grasped her clit. His razor sharp knife trimmed it free with only a couple of strokes. He popped it into his mouth, rolling the tiny nub around savouring the taste. Gently he squeezed it between his teeth slowly chewing, then finally swallowing this prized morsel. Since the first woman Hector Barnes ever butchered, he claimed as his privilege the tiny pleasure button nestled at the apex of their cunt lips. These delicate folds of flesh he would also trim away for his further gastronomic delight. Julie’s were no exception. He’d examined and saw how dainty and delicate they were when he’d shaved her pussy.
First though, he would dress out her body in his usual professional manner. Soon the two pale white halves of her carcass would hang in the fully sunlit slaughterhouse, her neatly excised cunt laid lovingly on the butcher’s table. He would quarter Julie’s prime carcass, carrying each quarter to the thick wooden table and butcher it into the appropriate cuts of meat.
Bob had arrived, much to hector’s displeasure, as he was removing her clit. He didn’t mind so much another’s presence during the carcass cutting stage. He did mind anyone around during the previous procedures. It was something he considered personal and private between himself and the women he slaughtered.
As he worked with the knives and saws portioning out Julie’s quartered carcass, Bob placed each families portion into the cotton meat bags tagged by the family. Then he carefully packed the bags into his van to begin the delivery route. Today he would start at the Ramsey’s, then on to the Culberts’ until finally ending up back at his place. When the route was complete each of the 20 families in the “beef ring” would have their fresh supply of meat. Next week the process would begin all over again.