The Meat Processing Plant - Part I by Merle Hill

The Meat Processing Plant - Part I (MF, FF, Cannibalism, gore) by Merlehill2000

(Based on a story posted to the old femalesnuffantasies group on Yahoo)

I met my guide at the front gate of Hill’s Fine Meats. It’s one of the most modern female human meat plants in California, and operates under the supervision of the California Real Meat Authority. My guide was a nice little 18 year old dirty blond, who met me in the visitor center. She was completely nude, with small, champagne glass-shaped tits, a slightly bulging belly, slim hips, and she was wearing a pair of yellow plastic Croc shoes. Her 5’2” height looked well proportioned, and noticed her crotch was smooth and hair-free.

We made brief introductions, and I signed into the plant’s front desk. I noted security seemed tight as a read the sign on the wall: “All visitors must sign in, and retain their visitor badge around their neck. Female visitors found without a badge may be processed into meat. All visitors must conform to the dress code: only shoes and socks may be worn, except when outer garments are required during cold/wet weather. Please, no cameras are allowed inside the plant – we produce the world’s best tasting girls using a specially formulated process invented by Merle, and we want to keep delivering the world’s top Girl Meat to your table.”

She told me her name was Kari, and showed me to the locker room after I got my badge. “Take off all of your clothes, and put them in one of the lockers. We only wear shoes and socks inside, and you’ll get used to being naked around the girls soon enough,” she smiled, casting her eyes down briefly at her nude form. I went into the locker room alone, and stripped down. Fortunately I had worn my sneakers, so I wouldn’t look like one of those old men wearing leather dress shoes and black socks while naked. So I slipped on my sneakers, and stowed my clothes in the locker, and took the key with me. When I emerged from the locker room, Kari had a photo ID for me labeled “Visitor” on a neck lanyard for me. I hung my locker key on it (I had been wondering where to put it since I had no pockets now). We walked out of the visitor center and into a campus-like area with several buildings spread across the grassy field. Everyone we saw was naked, including a group of teenage girls frolicking in the distance on what looked like a soccer pitch.

I was conscious of my manhood starting to stir, and was wondering if it was bad form to be walking around the factory with a “stiffy” showing me to be totally new to seeing so much nude girlflesh. Kari explained that most meat came from girls raised elsewhere, and brought to the plant for processing that day. But some of the meat girls spent some time at the plant for conditioning. Some examples were the young whole-body roasters, some of the veal girls, and of course meatgirls drawn from the workforce. “We also have some research and development operations,” which she said she’d show me in detail in a bit.

We walked to a low, industrial-looking building with a row of truck bays along one side. “This is where we process most of the meat girls. They arrive and leave within 24 hours typically,” she explained with a smile. “Girls come in the front door, and meat goes out the back.” We entered the front part of the building, and saw long lines of convener belts moving meat parts down past worklines branching off of the main conveyor. Teams of workers, some men and some women, were cutting and packing meat parts into packages on foam plastic trays, and wrapped in clear plastic with label affixed. I picked one up, and saw that it was a 3 lb pack of ribs, labeled “Young Asian Female ribs–extra lean”. The room was loud, so it was hard to hear, and I leaned close to Kari. Kari explained that the girls tended to have body types based on their race: a lot of the lean meat came from the slim Asians, while the heavier blacks or Africans were valued for their excellent hams that might top 20 pounds. The white girls tended to be a mixed bag between the lean cuts of meat and the heavier bodies that became like traditional pork meat. As I leaned toward Kari, she shifted and her small breasts brushed against my chest, and I felt my dick beginning to spring to life. She glanced down at my rising member, but only smiled up at me. “We contract out to most of our suppliers, but we do maintain some control over breeding stock. For instance, I’m a breeder,and I’m carrying my third girl,” she explained. As she did so, she leaned back a little to thrust her belly slightly forward, and I saw that her bulge was her pregnant womb starting to show.

She led me through a far door, and we came into the room where workers were sorting girls for slaughtering who had arrived in the trucks. We walked by a group of young women and girls lined up for sorting, having just arrived in a truck. They all had their hands zip-tied behind their backs, but didn’t look too upset at their situation. A middle-aged woman with heavy breasts and fat, large belly was holding a scanner and a typing on a touch-screen hanging on a cable from the ceiling. Next to the touch screen was another screen hanging from the ceiling, with a probe cabled to it. A naked man in rubber boots was holding what looked like a long syringe, and was moving the line of girls past the woman. She looked at the first girl, a mid-20s white girl with good-sized breasts, standing about 5’6” and looking like she weighed about 150 pounds. She picked up the probe, and rubbed it across the girl’s breasts, then down her belly, and finally her back. The screen attached to the probe came alive with grey, shadowy pictures, and I realized it was an ultrasound imager. “Quarter her out,” said the woman at the screen, and the man took the syringe and thrust it between the girl’s shoulder blades, and gave it a squeeze. Then he held a scanner up to the girl’s back and looked at it “Good,” he said. The middle aged woman who was the sorter touched her screen, and then the man pointed the girl to a line of girls entering a turnstile at the far side of the room. “Gate 4,” he said, and gave her a nudge. The girl ambled toward the turnstile to join a line of other girls, most of whom shared her solid yet healthy build.

Kari spoke up: “We sort the girls when they arrive by body type, and then we put a small chip under their muscles between their shoulder blades that records their number. The sorter there at the terminal looks at the girl’s meat on the ultrasound, checks to see if she’s pregnant, and then classifies the girl, and enters her destination. She makes what’s called a “Butchering Order” in the system, and at each butchering station the butchers can see the girl’s butchering order on their screens. We adapted the system from the fast food industry, and it lets Hills Meats make custom meat orders for every girl. Our system is linked to our inventory control system, so the sorter can also see what our demand is right at the minute.”

The next girl to me sorted was obviously very young: a white redhead about 4’8” that looked to weigh about 90 pounds, with only a hint of small breasts and a very slim figure. She was sorted for a whole roaster, chipped, and sent to her turnstile. The next was a slightly brown woman who looked to be in her 40’s, standing about 5 feet, with a medium build, large ass, and large, sagging breasts. She was sorted to be ground longpig. Then a tall, slim brunette was sorted to be cut into parts. I saw a heavily pregnant brown girl with long hair, about 5’ even with a bulging belly; she was sorted for a whole roaster. Then a slim black girl about 5’8’ with a voluptuous build and large breasts was sorted to be a smoker. Watching all these naked women and girls go by was definitely getting my pole to stand to.

Kari explained some more: “We tend to make smaller, slim girls the whole roaster or butcher them as whole carcases. Good, trim larger girls can be sold as quarter carcasses, or butchered down to complete cuts of meat. We have a specialty where we’ll smoke a whole, slightly overweight girl in our smoke house, and they’re delicious,” she smiled, and nudged a little closer to me. Then she continued: “The older and fatter girls get turned into ground longpig meat, and the truly obese girls go to the rendering plant to be made into lard. Why don’t we go see some butchering……It looks like all this girlmeat is making you excited,” she nodded, smiling down at my erect manpole.

She brushed it lightly with her fingertips, then turned and led me out through a door into the room where the whole roasters were prepared. I was going to burst if this continued. “I have to go give my milk soon, and you can help. You’ll be able to see our breeding facility in a bit too,” she said, and cozied up to me. We turned our attention to the line of girls in the room. There was a long line of girls waiting to be butchered, and they were standing in a maze single file. At the front of the maze, there was a man wearing rubber wellingtons pulling girls out of the maze, and pushing them to the first station. He grabbed the next girl, an attractive Asian with small but firm breasts, and brought her over to a line of seats with some sort of plumbing attached below the seat. Most of the seats were occupied by other girls, and he led her over to an empty one. A black rubber object projected up through the seat pointing upward. The man had the girl spread her legs, then guided her to sit down on the rubber nozzle so that it wen up into her anus. He firmly pushed down on her shoulders, then attached a hook to the zip tie holding her hands behind her back. Then he locked her ankles into shackles at the base of the seat. He stepped on a pedal at the base of the seat, and the hook tightened up, drawing the girl’s hands down tighter, and forcing her to arch her back. The effect was for her to be looking upward with her breasts now pointed out, and the effect was very striking. Then the man stepped on another pedal, and I heard the sound of running water.

“That’s the enema station where we clean the girls out before slaughtering them,” said Kari. “We like to pride ourselves on keeping our meat clean and free from bacteria and other stuff from their insides. The station goes through alternating cycles of filling the meat’s insides, then sucking out the water and feces. The final wash has a mild antisceptic to make her as clean as possible,” Kari explained.

The man moved down the line to a young blonde girl who was done. She had young, firm breasts too, but they were bigger and had started to get the crease at their base where they sagged slightly on her chest. The man freed the girl from the seat, and helped her get up from the nozzle impaling her anus. Then he led her over to a long, stainless steel table, and had her lie down. There was a woman working there, about 30 and also wearing only wellingtons. She had the girl spread her legs, and then she rubbed some foamy cream on the girl’s slightly hairy crotch. I watched as the woman seemed to smile at the meatgirl, and she spread her legs more at the pleasurable rubbing. The worker was obviously giving her girl parts a working over far beyond what was required to simply defoliate her bush, and she opened her lips and gently began to pant. Kari explained “We chemically remove their cunt hair during butchering…..nothing’s as good as a nice, smooth cuntlet from a young sow,” she smiled, and let her hand brush “accidentally” against my now erect member as she pointed. I pretended not to notice, but definitely hoped she was up for something more a little later.

The woman then rinsed off the blonde’s cunt area with a handheld sprayer, revealing the girl’s completely bare vulva, and moved around the table by her head. She took a ball gag with some straps attached, and had the blond open her mouth and put the ball in her mouth. The straps came around the back of the blonde’s head, and over the top, joining in the back and holding the ball gag in her mouth securely. Then the woman grabbed a control switch daggling on a long chord from the high overhead ceiling, and a hook lowered with a bar about a yard long attached. There were shackles at each end of the bar. The woman attached the shackles to the blonde’s ankles, and then pressed the switch again, and the blonde girl was hoisted up off of the table hanging upside down by her ankles. The woman then picked up a large “S” hook from under the table, and inserted one end into the girl’s asshole. Then she hooked the girls’ hands onto the hook, and attached a strap from the “S” hook to the buckle on the back of her ball gag headpiece. Then the woman tightend the strap, forceing the blonde to arch her back, and pulling her head backward so that the girl was staring at the floor. With a final push, the woman moved the girl hanging from the bar away from the table, and I saw that the bar was mounted on an overhead trolley sliding on a rail, so it could roll along it. The girl was hanging with her head about at my waist, and I was thinking it was too bad she had a ball gag filling her mouth, as I would welcome a blow job about now. The woman pushed the girl over to join a line of girls hanging in the same manner.

“You’re going to see our standard butchering procedure here,” said Kari, explaining over the low background hum of machinery. “We live butcher the girls without any drugs and without stunning them for two reasons: most of them enjoy the pain of the live gutting and many will get their last cum, and we don’t like to inject any drugs into our meat. Also a while back one of our accountants figured out that stunning the meat cost us some time and money, and our manager decided to skip that step, and send them to the gutting station still alive.”

I saw now that the front of the line of hanging girls was where the butchers were working. We walked along the line until I could get a good look at what was going on. The butchers were a man and a woman, both in what looked like thier 40’s, again dressed in the standard wellingtong green rubber boots and nothing else. They also had belts on, and there were a knife sheath and a metal hook suspended from thier belts. The butchers grabbed the next girl in line, a white brunette with a slim build weighing about 90 lbs, almost flat tits, and nice well-tanned light brown skin, and slid her over a a slightly raised stainless steel conveyer system rising about a foot off of the floor. The woman butcher took a scanning wand hanging by a cable, and held it to the girl’s back momentarily, and both butchers looked a the computer screen hung over head and attached ot the wand. I could see the entire butchering order flash on the screen, with the words “whole roaster” at the top. The woman butcher dropped the wand and picked up her knife. I could see the stainless steel conveyer belt running in the raised stainless steel trought was made of closely-spaced bars running several inches above the bottom of the trough. The belt was moving slowly, and I could see a pile of bloody and slimy flesh I recognized as organs lying on the belt a few feet away.

“The butchers see everything in the butchering order: and if she’s going to be a whole roaster they know if any specialty meats like kidneys or tripe need to stay with the carcass,” said Kari, leaning into me over the noise of the electric hoists and other machinery in the background. As she talked, her breast rubbed against my arm, and her hand brushed against my torrid rod, and I knew that I couldn’t contain myself much longer.

We watched and the woman butcher took her knife handle and rubbed the butt end against the brunette’s mons. “This is my favorite part, said Kari,” and she led me closer to the see what would happen to the girl. The butcher rubbed the knife handle along the girl’s slit, then gently forced it between her cunt lips, and started pumping it in and out of her vagina. After a few seconds, she pulled it out, and replaced the knife handle with her three fingers in the girl’s cunt, thrust them in up to the hilt, and I could see the butcher woman rubbing the meatgirl’s clit with her thumb. The butcher turned her head to us, and explained “We like to get them excited before we start cutting as orgasms improve their flavor. When I make the first cut, they’re usually on the edge, and that sudden sharp pain brings them over the edge,” she said with a smile. She turned back to her work, and then took her knife and positioned the knife just below (above since the girl was hanging upside down) her pubic arch and began to slice down her belly. The girl tensed noticeably, and I thought I saw a shudder wrack her body at the sudden pain. The butcher woman quickly completed the first cut, then retraced it, using both hands to carefully sever the girl’s muscles and expose her organs as slimy looking tubes of wet-looking plump flesh suddenly appearing as the edges of the cut parted. “I’m going to pull her viscera up to her diaphragm,” explained the butcher, picking up the hook hanging from her belt, and using it to hook the girl’s organs and she began to vigorously pull them out of the girl’s belly and let them drape down the girl’s front into the conveyor belt. I recognized her intestines falling down first, attached to the large intestine, and then her stomach. Once the girl’s gut was hanging mostly down onto the conveyor, the butcher cut away both the end by her rectum and above the stomach, letting the whole mass fall free. I noticed the girl’s blood starting to flow from the long cut running the length of her abdomen, and the riverlets joined into a steady stream running down between her small breasts and flowing steadly in a stream off of the girl’s chin. The brunette was sqirming in objection, but I couldn’t tell if it was pleasure, pain, or a little of both.

Kari broke in: “We separate most of their organs later in another room. The coveyer trough directs their blood to a central collection point where we use a lot of it for blood sausage, and we use organs for a variety of products. Intestines provide sausage casing, we use stomachs from the younger girls for cheese culture, and the older ones sometimes get made into girl hagis. Liver from the younger veal girls is quite tastey, and kidneys, hearts and lungs from some of the girls are used to stuff a nice girl hagis, or for sausage meat” she explained. I was at rapt attention as she took her hand was now stroking my shaft as she talked, and both butchers cast a sideways glance at me as if to say “lucky bastard” with her quick smirks.

I watched the butcher remove the girl’s bladder and toss it separately onto the converyer, then I saw the kidneys, liver, and spleen come out, each going onto the slow moving conveyer. A couple of young naked girls, one black and one Asian, appeared dressed in aprons along the conyer, using sqeegees to push the girls organs along the conveyor into separate piles. “These are some of our breeding stock girls who work at the plant. We use them to work in a variety of places, such as cleaning up, helping along the several processing areas, and generally helping out.” I returned to looking at the now gutted girl, and saw that she was bleeding profusely from her opened belly slit, with blood running off of her chin into the trough below. She seemed to have stopped squirming as I had seen during her gutting, and was still as her life ran literally down the drain.

We walked along the butchering line, Kari now leading me by my erect prick past a line of girls with their bellies laid open. As we walked, I noticed them bleeding less and less, and I realized that most had died several minutes after gutting. The lighter skinned girls had lost much of thier color, and several of the girls looked almost like ivory, they were so white.

“This is where we clean the whole roaster carcasess,’ explained Kari, guiding me to a stop in front of a booth the line passed through. The booth was walled with clear glass, and inside two teenaged-looking girls were using spray guns to spray out the girls’ body cavities, and to wash the blood off of their bodies. They were also removing the ball gags and anal hooks, and tossing them into big barrels next to the line. I looked at one of the teenagers working in the booth and noted her body was almost perfect, with a plump but firm ass, and two nicely full “C” cup tits.

Kari motioned to the far side of the booth, where whole girl carcases were exiting the booth as they were slid along the overhead rail. “Whole roasters usually go straight into the cooler, and then to shipping. Girls who become parts get rolled into the next butchering stage where we quarter and then reduce them into bulk cuts for distribution.” Kari was still leading my with her hand on my erect rod, and I felt the urge to just grab her an take her right there. I figured that would be bad form, and hoped I’d be rewarded for my restraint later. As she was talking, we walked through another door where we saw girl carcasses arriving on the overhead rail, and then the rail branching into several lines. One led straight along the wall to the large refrigerator at the far side of the long room. I saw a nude male butcher scanning the carcasses as they were entering, and directing them to the right line. I noticed that most of the whole roasters going straight to the refrigerator were all smaller, slim girls.

Heavier and older women were going to a line that looked like it mostly provided quarters. I followed that line with an intent glance, and Kari read my thoughts. “We tend to quarter the heavier, more voluptuous girls,” she said, pointing out stations on the butchering line I was watching. “First we behead them as they slide down,” she explained. I saw that as the girls entered the quartering line, their neck passed through a “V” shaped horizontal blade that neatly cut of their heads which dropped into a hopper and then onto a small conveyor belt. “Then our butchers quickly reduce the carcass to the main cuts: tits, cuntlets, hind quarters, front quarters, ribs, and the loin/sirlons,” she said. I saw 2-man (and a few women) butcher teams using electric knives cutting the girls tits off of their chests in quick, long strokes, and toss the pair of tits onto a tray held in a wheeled rack. I wached as they went to work on what looked like a heavy-set former matron that might have been pregnant when she was gutted. After her large tits came off, a female butcher went to work removing her meaty cuntlet with a filet knife, first circumcissing the mons, then thrusting deply to cut the cunt away from its supporting bone. The butcher separated the cuntlet, and tossed it onto another tray in a separate rack. Then they cut the shoulders/arms free from the carcases, and hanging them on new meat hooks already on the rails. Then the two butchers turned to the ribcage and used the saw-like knives to slice the ribs away from each side of the spine, and shifted the red & white stripped ribs to new hooks. Then they cut away the tender loins and sirloins running along the spine and back up toward the carcases’s ass, and they too got a new hooks to move them along toward the refer room. Finally, the butchers cut the buttocks away from the carcases wide pelvic girdle and separated the hip joint, causing the legs/hams to swing free on thier original hooks, and letting the spinal column fall onto a small conveyer belt. The whole operation took less than five minutes, and I could see that what had been a pleasingly plump pregnant sow was now a collection of large cuts hanging on hooks, with her large tits and suculent cunt taking thier place on the large metal trays. More girls working in the plant wearing only aprons hurried the quarters down the rails into the refer room, and when the trays were full they wheels the full racks into the refere, and wheeled new racks of empty trays to take thier place. I eyed one slim Asian girl with a nice pair of firm but small tits working to move parts back to the refrigerator, and Kari gave my meat pole a playful squeeze.

“Why don’t we go by the research dairy and genetic area now, she said.” “If you keep touching me there, you’re going to have to wash me clean,” I joked back, and followed her out of the building. We were walking down a sidewalk between a couple of the industrial-looking buildings in the complex, then turned down a path leading through a stand of trees.

I noted the area’s look took a different turn. We were walking through a nicely kept grassy area, with some decorative landscaping and the concrete pathway had turned from a straight utilitarian walkway into a gently curving sidewalk meandering through the large grassy campus-like area spreading out before us.

“We’re going to the area where we have some experimental breeding, and where we develop new meat techniques. I’m in the experimental breeding program, and I’m carrying my third ‘little experiment’,” she smiled, patting her slight belly bulge. “Are you a slave or a free employee,” I asked, casually draping my arm over her shoulder. I had started to enjoy her company as well as her occasional attentions to my erect shaft. “I’m meat here, she smiled back unabashedly. Our quality control department liked my genetics and body mass make-up, so they have me working as an experimental breeding sow and a tour guide. I’ve also been trained in some butchering, and with luck I’ll be working here a long time. Most of the experimental breeders keep busy till they are almost at menopause, then we butcher them as soup meat. If I’m really luck and learn a lot about this business, the board will make me a key employee, and I’ll stay around till I’m sixty. But the retirement plan for all meat slaves is still the cutting line,” she said with a giggle.

We were now walking into a low building with a sign on the door “Research Lab”. Kari had to swipe her badge on a proximity reader at the door. “You must keep all of your secrets in here,” I laughed. I saw Kari flip a switch mounted on the wall just inside the door labeled “Visitors”, and a lighted sign reading “Visitors in Area” hung ahead in the hallway came on.

“Oh, that’s just to let everyone know there’s a visitor here. We have some trade secrets, but they’re not something you’d accidentally see from walking through the lab,” she smiled back, as she led me down the hall. We stopped at a large glass window looking into what looked like a laboratory. Two women in white lab coats were working in a long room; one was sitting on a stool and appeared to be filling a tray of small test tubes with a pipette, and another was looking at a computer.

“This is the heart of our gentics lab,” Kari explained. “We’re always looking at ways to improve our suppliers’ populations, so we do a lot of the research that helps them. Most of our efforts are focused on improving girlmeat through selective breeding. Speaking of that, you look like your’re ready to help us with some breeding soon,” she joked as she again as she gently stroked my shaft a couple of times. I reached up to give her tits a gentle squeeze, but she put her hands across her chest. “You’ll have to hold off till later. My milk’s pretty full right now, and if you squeezed these at all it’ll be running down all over me” she said. “I think I can use your help in just a little bit, but I have some other things to show you” and she led me down the hall.

The next large window looked into a room that looked like a small operating room. There was a smallish redhed laid out on an operating table, naked and with her body strapped down with straps across her chest, arms, and across her splayed legs. Her feet and legs looked to be held in stirrups like in a delivery room, I noticed she was slim, with small breasts that flattened in her reclined position. She was lean but with some very taut abs, and her fine legs looked very shapely. What a man and a woman in hospital scrubbs were working on her lower abdomen I couldn’t tell, but I could see them using surgical instruments working on the girl. She had been cut open just above her tight-looking shaved vulva, and the incision stretched several inches. Retractors held the cut wide open, and the woman had one hand almost completely inside the redhead woman

“I think we’re seeing a procedure where we’re harvesting a girl’s ovaries. Hill’s meats likes to take particularly good meat girls’ ovaries and genetic material and use them in some of our supplier’s large-scale in vitro implantation programs. Look at the computer screen up on the wall, and the required procedure is detailed for the techs.”

Up on a computer screen on the wall I saw what looked like a text display reading “Hysterectomy, ovary harvest”. Just then I saw one of the techs lifted a small mass of flesh from the girl’s open incision, and placed it gently in a small plastic container like a tupperware. “This one looks like we’re taking her ovaries and womb for both an egg harvest and to examine her uterus. Sometimes we have really great meat stock that fails to conceive in breeding, and we’re looking to determine causes and improve the herds. Our research here has come up with selective breeding results that have improved a lot of supplier herds’ fertility rates, and keep us receiving a steady stream of high quality girl carcasses.” She almost rolled this explanation off like it was a canned advertisement, but I didn’t mind as I was watching the redhead’s tight body give up the secrets to making more like her.

“Usually when we harvest the complete reproductive set from girls, they’re going to slaughter from here. If they can’t breed then we use the meat while it’s in prime condition.” As she spoke, the two techs withdrew their instruments with two more small organs grasped in each of the surgical clamps. They each dropped thier treasure into the tupperware, then the man began removing the retractor holding open the girl’s wound and he pulled the edges together. Then he used a plain piece of duct tape to cover the cut, which now looked no larger than the length of a hand. “Wow, you really can fix anything with duct tape,” I laughed. “She doesn’t have far to to go. Usually the girls go straight to slaughter from a repro tract harvest. I’d say in about 30 minutes she’s going to be hanging on the hook gutted and ready for stuffing,” answered Kari. “She doesn’t need much to get her through her final walk to the cutters.” As Kari was talking, the woman tech had sealed the tuperware, stuck a barcode label on it from the computer printer, and placed it in small window opening joining to the next room. They took the straps off of the girl, and helped her to get up onto her unsteady feet. Then the man bent her over the operating table, and secured her hands behind her back with a zip tie, and then woman walked her out of the room. Another woman tech was leading a new girl into the room, a striking dark brown middle-Eastern looking girl about 5’6” with large, full breasts, dark aureoles around her small erect nipples, and full hips that sashayed as she walked. The techs secured her to the table where the red head had just given up her female organs.

“Why don’t we keep walking down toward the other experimental building,” she motioned with her hand, and nudging my prick with the other. Her smile looked inviting. We walked down the hallway and out the other end of the building, and then walked across another grassy area. We were walking toward another building, larger than the lab we just left, and about 4 stories high.

“This is our experimental herd housing, our nursery, and where we train a lot of our staff,” she explained as we walk. “My breasts are starting to ache, and I need to get rid of this milk,” she said motioning to her proud tits. I noticed they did seem to be swaying a little heavily than when I first saw her, but I thought it might be the power of suggestion or the growing urge radiating from my dick which was starting to affect all of my thoughts.

We turned into a side door in the large building, and we entered what looked like a modern school building, with wide, open corridors and rather nice light-colored wood trim around the doors.

“The nursery and breeding area is right here, and we’re stopping here so I can lighten my load,” she gigled. We entered through a double door, and turned right down a hallway with a sign reading “Lactating and Nursing”. We entered a large open area like a hospital ward where several women and girls were sitting on standard but odd-looking industrial chairs, and most had pump cups attached to their breasts. Each chair was spaced several feet from the other so the women who were milking had lots of space, and the room seemed large, efficient, and modern. I noticed the chairs didn’t really look like seats as much as saddles with reclining seatbacks, and the women sat straddling them with their legs apart and draped down each side of the chair. One 40-ish woman with large, droopy breasts was leaning back, and a naked toddler about 3 years old was suckling at her breast while lying on her stomach. The woman had her head thrust back, and seemed to be enjoying suckling her whelp. Everyone in the room was nude, and all the women I could see were shaved.

Kari led me past a row of milking women to an open chair, and a very young-looking woman with shoulder length light brown hair, a slim build, breasts barely dishing out from her chest, and a lean, awkward gait walked up to Kari with two pump cups on hoses and what looked like a two-liter bottle.

“I was beginning to think you were a no-show,”, she said, kissing Kari on the cheek.

“And head straight to the forced extraction table………no way!” said Kari with some emphasis. “I was just showing my tour around, and we stopped to see some repro tract harvesting,” she said. Motioning to my still-erect woody to demonstrate her point she added “I think he liked it, ” and they both giggled. Kari turned to me and then tossed her head toward the woman. “This is Jan, my diener and milker. She’s my best friend right now because my tits are really aching to let this milk go.” As she was talking Kari unrolled what looked like a thin rubber gel pad on the chair’s saddle and then settled her naked tush onto the pad. She sat with her legs apart, and I noticed she seemd to be grinding her pelvis into the textured gel padd.

Jan was helping Kari get settled into her straddled position, and then held each cup up to Kari’s breast and secured the straps around her chest, and hooked up the clear hoses to the milk pump located on the counter next to the chair. Then Jan screwed the bottle onto the pump, and turned it on. It began to gently hum.

“That should help, Kari. I know they must be sore after having to wait an hour past milking time,” she said soothingly and she began gently massaging Kari’s left breast with both hands. “You can help with the other one,” said Jan looking at me. Kari was leaning back as Jan’s small hands began to relax her tight brest, and I saw the white milk begining to flow from the cup through the clear tube to the pump. Kari was looking at Jan, and opened her mouth slightly to moan in a gentle exhale as the preasure in her breast began to ease and her sweet milk poured into the bottle.

I moved up next to Kari’s seat opposite Jan, and brought my hands up to Kari’s right tit. I cupped my hands around the base of her tit what was not being sucked into the clear plastic cup, and began rubbing deeply but slowly. I noticed her milk begin to run into the cup and the tube shortly after I started rubbing her tit.

“Wow, you’re really a nice milker,” I said, and she turned to look into my eyes with a long-distance gaze on her half-opened eyes. She breathed gently but deeply through her parted lips. Jan slowly swept her left hand down along Kari’s baby “bump” and brought it to a stop covering Kari’s crotch. Kari spread her legs a little more, and then turned her head toward Jan, who brought her lips to Kari’s and kissed her deeply. I kept watching the beautiful teens kissing while massaging Kari’s milk mound, and shifted my gaze between her erect tits giving up thier milk, and her groin now gyrating on Jan’s hand.

Kari broke the kiss and looked into Jan’s wide open eyes. “I think he’s going to explode soon unless I get to that seed pole of his,” and she turned toward me and smiled. “You’ve been a good sport all day…..why don’t you bring your rod around to my face and maybe I can help you,” she said, leanding back on her saddle. “Besides, I haven’t had my dose of prosteglans and fructose today”, she said while leaning all the way back and lying down on the back. Her head draped over the edge of the seat back, and her mouth opened inviting my raging redbone to it’s parted lips. I stepped around and squatted to bring my phallus to the right height, and eased it into her mouth. “Seaman and prosteglans really helps me relax my tits and give up my last bit of milk. Come here and let me get your man milk,” she said breathlessly.

“Oh Kari, we could have used his help in breeding this afternoon,” said Jan, focusing intently on Kari’s parted labia. She looked up at me: “You do have a breeding card, don’t you?”

“I do, but it’s back in my locker,” I said between huffing breaths, as Kari was gently deep throating me, and I felt myself approaching the point of no return. I briefly flashed back to my experiences in the government-run human meat breeding program: I had my genetic work-up, and I had been to the donation center a few times, but it consisted of a rather sterile exercise where a nurse put a man milker cup on my knob, and then the machine coaxed be to a less than satisfying “donation.”

“That’s too bad,” answered Jan. ” We do all natural breeding here, and I’m set to start this afternoon. This will be my first fertility window after my maturity cetrificate came through last month, and I’m really looking forward to it.” She giggled like a school girl, and then lowered her mouth to Kari’s now gyrating pussy, and began to lick in long, slow laps of her tounge.

The thought of balling this incredible looking nubile teen was too much, and I started gushing into Kari’s mouth, and she responded by pulling me into her mouth deeper with her hands, and I felt her throat clamp onto my glans as she swallowed repeatedly. Jan meanwhile was lapping at Kari’s clitoris faster while spreading Kari’s lips apart with her fingers. I felt Kari’s shudders starting, and looked down to see her stomach muscles rippling in contrations, and her belly button protruded a bit from on top of “Mount Baby”. Her tits were gushing milk into the machine’s cups.

After my plateau eased, I pulled my waning penis out of Kari’s mouth, and observed that her orgasms must keep her in good shape.

“Oh yes. A good earth-shaker is part of my daily workout here, thanks to Jan” smiled Kari

Jan chimed in: “Yes, we call it building the bacon because well-worked out stomach muscles become great lean bacon. When Kari’s finally cut I bet I’ll find some great bacon strips in here,” she said, rubbing the small mound in the middle of Kari’s abdomen.

“You mean you’ll be Kari’s butcher? I asked

“Oh yes, that’s one of the key jobs for a denier here in the experimental breeding herd. I make sure I milk Kari 3 times a day, I track her general health and wieght, and I chart her milk production and progress as her little calf grows. And when the time comes, I’ll probably be the one to gut her and turn her into a whole roaster or parts,” she smiled while licking pussy jiuce from around her mouth. “I’m responsible for caring for Kari and two other breeding sows, and us deiners are the first ones to flag aging sows for reduced fertility and for falling-off milk. I measure Kari’s output down to the ounce, record all of ther data in the computer. She’s still pretty young, but after she’s been breeding and birthing for 20 years her production will fall off. And then it’s cutting time for most of us,” and she her voice trailed off with a broad smile.

Jan got up, and then helped squeeze the last few drops out of Kari’s breasts just as Kari was coaxing the last few drops out of my dick with long, slow, and strong milking motions with her fingers. Jan unstrapped the cups from Kari’s chest, and held them up high over her head so the last drops of milk would draing down into the jar. Then she disassembled the cups, straps and tubing, placing the milk cups in a small diswasher under the counter, and dropping the tubing in the sink. She hung the straps up in a rack above the sink. I saw 4 other pairs of milking cups sitting in the dishwasher already.

“Well, it looks like you’re in rare form today, Bessie,” joked Jan as she unscrewed the collection jar and weighed it on a small scale.

Karie gave my pecker a final and noisy “slurp” on the end of it, and then sat up. “Well, I think there’s a little more to see in the training area,” as she unstraddled the chair, and stood up while rubbing her tits. The milking cups had left large red rings around her aerolee, and they looked sore.

Jan hugged and kissed Kari before we left, and we went back out into the main hallway. We kept walking in the original direction we were traveling, and soon we came to a large window through which I could see a classroom. There were about 10 nude girls seated in at student desks the classroom, and they looked like they were being instructed by a 30-ish woman with short blond hair, a medium build, and about C-cup tits. The instructor was likewise naked, and her pussy was shaved. There was a stainless steel table next to her, and sitting on the table was an older and obese woman w/ dark hair, and large aureole. Her weight looked like about 250 lbs to me, and her breasts were almost lost in the rolls of fat stacked up on her lap going up her belly and chest. On the wall up in the front of the classroom was a large poster showing a daigram of woman’s internal organs and arrows pointing them out on her body.

Kari reached over an turned on a wall speaker so we could hear was was being said in the classroom. The instructors voice came over the speaker.

“….With our obese lard cows, intiall gutting becomes harder as you have to cut through a lot of fat. For sows going to the rendering plant, we have to gut them with longer instruments than normal sows. You learned how to take apart a normal sow this past week, but today I’ll be showing you how to cut down a lard sow for rendering. Sow, would you please lie done on the table?”

The fat sow slowly rotated on the table, lay on her side and then heavily rolled to the center of the table. Her shape looked to me like a small mountain with her belly being the peak. The instructor continued talking to the class as she walked around the table.

” In the rendering line we prize moving our sows through quickly. Now it’s only running part time, so you’ll all probably work there infrequently, and we keep our procedure fairly simple.” As she was talking, I saw her positioning the familiar overhead hoist, hook, and spreader bar over the end of the table by the sow’s feet. I also noticed that the front of the classroom where the insturctor was had a white tiled floor with a gutter in it, and a raised 6” cement rim separating it from where the students sat at thier desk chairs.

“We start with the standard gutting position for any sow by locking her ankles into the spreader, and then secure her hands behind her back, and finally insert the ana hook. Now our equipment is a little different: the sow’s hands are in manacles with a chain between them, and the anal hook is bigger to accommodate her reduced range of motion in her fat-enshrouded arms and her huge buttocks.”

As she talked, the instructor rolled the sow on her side, and clamped a set of manacles on her wrists, then quickly rolled the obese woman on her stomach. She smoothly inserted a large anal hook up the sow’s ass, elicting a protesting grunt. Then the instructor hooked the sows’ manacle chain on the hook, and rolled the sow back on her back. Grabbing the hoist control she lowered the speader bar, and snapped the sow’s ankles into place. In under a minute, the instructor was hoisting the massively overweight sow up over the table by her ankles and had her hanging upside down. The sow had a slightly dazed look on her face, and she swiveled her head back and forth between the instructor and the students.

The instructor continued: “You gag fat sows in the usual manner….” as she grabbed a ball gag and forced it into the surprised sow’s mouth, and fastened in a single fluid move. The corpulent cow now began to struggle futilely against the bonds, as she was limited by her bulk, and secured by cold steel holding her bloated arms tightly behind her bulky body.

“We follow the standard order for butchering: first gutting, then we shift to cutting her up for rendering. For gutting the large lard sows, we use longer knives to cut through all of the body fat.” The instructor had a student bring up a large pan (it really looked like a small stainless steel wading pool) and place it on the floor under the dangling sow. The instructor didn’t hesitate, and with a slow but fluid motion took her foot-long knife and cut into the sow’s belly, cutting deep through her skin and fat from the roll just above her pussy up to where her ribs where. We watched as she traced the cut several times, each time cutting deeper into the thick white blubber packed on the sow’s body under her skin, until we saw her red ab muscles appear. The sow was trying to writhe free, but she was merely shaking her whale-like body, and we could see her fat shaking like a mass of jello. The instructor didn’t hesitate, and sliced through the sow’s ab muscles in a single smooth stroke, and then she began pulling the sow’s entrails out and letting them fall into the pan on the floor. In no time the fat sow’s belly was empty, and we could see her empty abdomen. Blood poured from the sow’s fatal wound and splashed onto the pile of viscera in the pan.

The instructor called out to two girls in the “OK, Betty and Cathy, please come up here and reduce the sow’s blubber for rendering. You’ve seen the videos and done the computer animations, it’s time to put your study into practice.” Two youngish girls got up from their desks and walked up to the front of the class, and picked up knives. The approached the hanging sow, now no longer struggling, and stood on either side. Almost in unison they began slicing around the sow’s ankles, and then in a line down her corpulent legs. The y were cutting deep through the blubber and skin, removing her covering of heavy fat in a single piece, like a pair of pants coming off of her leg muscles. Soon, they had the whole expanse of the blubber from her legs hanging off of her carcass, and they were cutting around her asshole and pussy. The instructor stepped back to narrate for the class:”As always class, we free the lard blanket from around the anus and the cuntlet, even though with the really fat lard sow’s their cuntlet becomes so covered with fat it too goes in to the rendering pan.” The two girls were making fast progress, and had stripped the sow around her genitalia and then were pulling the blubber off of her buttocks. They peeled the blubber back from the deep gutting opening, and worked front to back along each side cutting the blubber loose from around her abdomen and chest, just like pulling a suit of clothes off of her.

“As you can see, the sow’s heart hast stopped beating, and you can now cut her throat to let her finish draining,” added the instructor. With another smooth stroke, one of the naked girls dragged her knife across the sow’s throat, cutting her neck back almost to her spine, and making what looked like a large second mouth in the swollen throat. Blood began to pour slowly but steadily from the new cut. Meanwhile the two girls continued stripping the blubbler, and suddenly it fell free as the girls made the last cuts around the sow’s wrists, and the girls dropped their knives and struggled to handle the unwieldy blubber they had just skinned from the sow.

“OK, we’ll need two more to help here……this is the hard part. Dianne and Elly, come up her and help move the blubber into the clean pan,” said the instructor, moving an enormous wheeled pan almost the size of a coffin up next to the sow. Two women got up from in front of the class: a medium build brunette, and a slightly stout blonde. Together the four students manhandled the blubber layer into the waiting pan. The blubber and skin were still attached to the sow at the neck.

The instructor directed the action:

“OK Cathy, you can cut the blubber free from the sow’s neck…..peel it right up to her throat drain, the work your way around.”

The petite, nude student picked up her butcher knife, and followed the main cut up from the sow’s chest up the front of her neck to the yawning cut across her neck. Then Cathy carefully stipped the blubber back, and the last part of the mass tore free, and the other three girls helped corral it into the large pan. The sow’s carcass was almost unrecognizable, she had lost so much weight. What remained of her was mostly bright red muscle and white tendons, and if I hadn’t seen it I wouldn’t have believed that the meat hanging came out of the bloated sow. It looked like more than half her weight had been fat and blubber.

“Great job, girls,” the instructor said. She turned to the class with a question: “The blubber goes to where?”

A middle-aged woman with large, droopy tits answered “To the rendering line.”

“Right, Grace. Good job. And what do we do with the lard sow’s major meat groups?” the instructor followed.

“To the grinder line for sausage,” chimed in a very young girl who looked to be barely of legal age, with firm, pert tits, a shaved snatch, and a bobbed head of brunette hair.

“Right again, Heather.” Just for demonstration purposes, I’ll have the next 4 students come up and reduce this sow to grinding pieces,” said the instructor. (Continued)