Part Nine
(No meatgirl was consumed in the making of this story, it is more about being a product than the actual process dealing with the meatgirls - if being treated as an object offends you then please don’t read this story)
Not sure how I ended up here, but I find myself being transported in the back of a truck along with many other meatgirls, our bound wrists held above our heads and attached to a hook in the ceiling, my ankles are bound too. I can only make a muffled sound because of the gag in my mouth, but I can see, which is not usually the case when I’ve been a meatgirl in the past; normally, the hood over my head would block out the light. The other meatgirls are all like me, naked and bound, we look at each other, wondering where we are going, some have a fearful look while others seem to be resigned to their fate.
I do seem to recall that previously we were all held at an auction house, penned into a yard, and sold as a lot, just like cattle, I assume what used to happen to them, before the great climate purge got rid of them. Now it’s meatgirls like me that go through the same process, from farm, or in the case of clones, factory, on to wholesale, and then either to a local meatgirl shop, or to some other place, and then eventually on to the dinner plate, I guess.
The meatgirls in the truck bump into each other as the truck moves, each corner and turn makes them rub against the next in line, but there was no pleasure gained from this, unlike when I’ve been hung up in the storeroom back at the shop, and spent many happy hours rubbing against the soft, warm flesh of the meatgirl in front and behind me, bringing some very memorable and satisfactory orgasms.
But why was I here, and where was Ollie? Had I been sold by him, or taken from the shop by the Meatgirl Regulatory Authority, the inspectors having found me again. Everything up until now was just a blur. I was a bit confused; all I really knew was that at this moment, I was in the back of the truck along with many others, all meatgirls, and that probably meant that maybe something bad was about to happen.
Finally, the truck stopped, and the rear doors were opened, then the meatgirls were unloaded by several men, throwing each one over their shoulder and carting them off. Soon it was my turn, rough hands grabbed my naked body, I was lifted up to free my wrists, and then quickly tossed over the guy's shoulder, his hand grabbing my rear, his fingers so close to my sweet spot, if they had ventured that little bit further he would have found out just how turned on I was at this point.
Hanging over his shoulder, I couldn’t see where he was taking me, other than inside of some building; the sound of the outside was drowned out by the noisy mechanical sounds inside. Though I didn’t have time to ponder where I was, as shortly I was lifted up, and my bound ankles were attached to a hook, leaving me hanging upside down and facing the door that I had been brought in from. I could see several more meatgirls being carried and placed like me on hooks. I looked up as best I could and now saw that I was on some sort of production line, which, by the time I fully realized this, had now started moving and taking me along with the others further into the factory.
As I hung there while the line moved me, I tried to look around, but soon my head entered a metal chute, which forced me to straighten and look back along the line. There was a buzzing sound coming from behind me, and the next thing I knew, I was now looking up at my body as it continued down the line. There was no pain, and it looked strange to see my naked body leave without my head attached. That was the last thing I saw as my sight was soon restricted when my head rolled down and fell into a chute and down into a large container. My head landed face down among the others, and my sight then dimmed.
My body continued along the line; it was strange in that I could still feel everything that was happening to it. Shortly after losing my head, my arms were removed and thrown into another container for further processing. Now, what came next is not for the squeamish, but let’s just say that my insides were now no longer inside; again, there was no pain other than the peculiar feeling of having my internals roughly pulled out from me. Which again ended up in some large plastic tub, several parts of me were now in three of them, but strangely still felt quite connected.
Next came my breasts, both removed swiftly and placed on a steel tray, then my tender and exposed pussy was cut out, a sought after delicacy as I recall my husband telling me, having sold plenty of them in his shop. Again, this was placed on a tray along with many others, treated gently with care because of the higher price that people are willing to pay for them.
Once that was done, the rest of the processing of my body was less subtle, my body split in two, my legs removed, my rear would end up as rump roasts, my thighs into rolled meat joints, my calves as fillets and my feet sold whole, either for those who love feet and have a fetish for them, or made into stock. Ribs were, of course, ribs; the rest of me would be ground down as mince or made into pet food.
It all felt so surreal. I was shocked that there had been no pain, and I could feel everything that was happening, but then everything started to go black…
I awoke to find myself bound to a bed, I was gagged and had a hood over my head, so I couldn’t make out where I currently was, my arms were bound to the headboard and my ankles were held by ropes that appeared to go down to the corners of the bed that I was laying on, separating my legs and leaving me exposed. I finally guessed that I was currently on the bed in our spare bedroom. Ollie must have bound me here last night, and after making use of my naked body, had left me here. I was still a bit stunned and shaken by my dream, some would call it a nightmare, but don’t forget that the ultimate fate of a meatgirl is to be processed into food, so maybe this was just a fantasy of mine.
I had nearly experienced this fantasy for real several times in the past, but the closest I had come was after the inspectors had visited the shop and I ended up at the cloning facility, who after using me for their experiments had said that I was not needed and shipped me off with several other cloned meatgirls to a processing plant, where I was about to experience what had happened in my dream for real and become some sort of product, but ultimately I was rescued just in time.
Since that day, now over three months ago, I haven’t been bound in the storeroom with the meatgirls. I think, well, I know that the whole experience had terrified Ollie; he had so nearly lost me to my bizarre kink. I think that I had pushed it too far, along with others, or I had dragged them into my world, so they were not solely to blame. And so the thought of binding me again as just another meatgirl was just too much for him.
Ollie had also made some changes so that I couldn’t put myself in there with them, as I have done in the past. Not only had he changed the door locks, but he had also installed a security roller shutter that was closed after the end of the shop's trading day. Ollie had told me that it was to stop the inspectors from having free access to the storeroom, but I knew that it would prevent me from putting myself in there without his knowledge, again something that I had indulged in when frustrated that he had put me in there, and treated me like the meatgirl that I so loved to be.
But that was about to change with the first batch of my own meatgirl clones being delivered to the shop. I just had to see them for myself, wondering how they had turned out, and whether they even looked like me. But I wasn’t allowed to view them until the weekend, but by then the first batch of twelve was now reduced down to six, the others sold to eager customers wanting to enjoy some top quality meatgirls, well, they were based on my own body, and who couldn’t resist that.
So mid-afternoon on Saturday, just after the shop closed, I ventured down to get my first glimpse of my clones. Ollie opened the storeroom door to reveal, on one side of the room were the remaining six meatgirls, and on the other side were the original rack of meatgirls that I had hung with so many times before. It was hard to tell them apart; they were all naked, their bodies glistening with moisture, and I smiled as I knew just what had caused that to happen, having enjoyed indulging in their activities when the doors were closed.
It felt strange seeing them, and I was at first nervous to touch them, but tentatively I reached out and stroked one of them down its back. The skin was smooth and soft, slightly sweaty, but the flesh was firm. My hand drifted down to its rear, the flesh of the round globes gently giving under my now firmer touch. I looked at Ollie as he stood there watching me examine the meatgirl. He looked like he was enjoying seeing me feeling it up. I was sure that he probably had a hard-on, and I thought that I would soon find myself on the receiving end of that.
At this moment, I knew that I really needed to find out if they had really duplicated my own body, and to do that, I would need to be naked, so without any thought, I stripped off my shorts and t-shirt, and stood there watching the expression on my husband’s face drop, I don’t think that he was expecting that. But I also knew that to get any comparison, I would need to be tied like them, but I figured that Ollie would be very reluctant to do that after all that had happened, so I needed to encourage him.
Well, naked as I was, that was the first step, as I now had his full attention. Next, I would have to get him so worked up that he would be putty in my hands, and we girls certainly know how to do that. As I moved over to where he was standing, swaying my hips and doing my best to entice him as I got closer, I kept my focus on one part of his body, yes, that part, which when I had gotten through with him would make it much harder for him to think straight, and make him much more compliant to my requests.
Now, as I closed in on my prey, with pure lust in my eyes, I could see that I had his gaze fixed on me, and my breasts slightly jiggling kept him focused on them. Soon I was standing in front of him, my hands began to explore his body, still wearing the clothes that he had worn to sell the meatgirls, my hands starting at his chest and then gradually moving southwards, down until I found my target, his now very erect member. Running my hand gently over his clothing, I knew that I didn’t want to push too hard as I needed his cooperation, and if most of his blood was now located in his smaller brain, as I call it, he wouldn’t be able to think clearly.
I didn’t need to do too much, and I certainly didn’t want him to blow his load, though the urge to get down on my knees and take out my little friend, and then gently kiss and caress it was slightly overwhelming at this moment, but I knew that I had a goal of my own to achieve, and if I brought him to a satisfactory climax I would not have the advantage that I did at this time. It was hard to resist, but I managed, and then just when I had him in the palm of my hands, I knew that it was time to ask him.
“You know, I was wondering… ” I said, slightly hesitating to see his reaction, my hand still rubbing him. “I was wondering if these new clones really looked like me?”
It took him a minute to respond, “I guess they do.”
“But can you be sure?” I pondered, still teasing him. “I mean, they have the same look as any other meatgirl, their breasts are firm, and the skin feels smooth, but are they the same as me?” And I stepped back, holding one of my breasts for him to examine.
“I… I really… well maybe they are…” he stumbled out.
“I’m not so sure, but I know one way that we can find out.”
“I don’t think…” he started to say, but my hand had a firm grip on his member, and I applied just the right amount of pressure to change his mind.
“I mean, the shop is closed so there’s no one to disturb us, and we’re already standing in the storeroom, and I’m already naked like them, so it wouldn’t be too much trouble for you to put me in their place, now would it?” Again, I squeezed his erection just enough to get his attention. “And I could make it worth your while, if you want.”
“Well, I guess that we could, but only for a few minutes,” he responded.
“That’s what I thought too, now could you get me ready, please, and place me in between them.” My hand gave him a final reminder of what he could get later.
Grabbing some rope, he started binding my offered wrists. I was eager not only to see how we compared, but also to feel like I was just another meatgirl again. I had missed this so much. Once my wrists were bound, he bent down and tied my ankles. I think that he thought that he could get away with just binding my wrists, but I looked at him and then down at my feet to send the message that I wanted them bound too.
Now that I was tied it was time to join the other meatgirls in the rack, having shifted the meatgirls around to make room for me, Ollie lifted me and moved me under a vacant hook and I heard that wonderful sound of the click as it closed over the rope holding my wrists together, I was now properly fastened in place, with no way for me to get free.
Ollie then pushed the other meatgirls on either side of me closer so that our bodies touched. It felt magnificent to be back in this position, the feel of flesh upon flesh, the smell of their skin, the warmth of their bodies; this was like heaven to me. I took a moment to relish in the feelings that I was having, totally forgetting that Ollie was there beside me, his gaze fixed on my body.
“Well, how do I look?” I asked when I had recovered enough to talk.
“Wonderful,” he replied, not really answering my question.
“Yes, but how do I compare to them, do I look the same, or are they different?”
“It’s hard for me to tell, yes, you do look like them, but then you always looked like the other meatgirls to me.”
“Well, that’s no use, I need to know for sure. Maybe you could get the camera and take some pictures so that I can see for myself.”
“That sounds like an idea,” he replied, thankful that there was a solution to the problem that he couldn’t answer. “But I’d need to run upstairs. Will you be okay if I leave you for a moment?”
“I’m sure that I can manage, I mean, I’ve never done anything like this before, but I’m sure that I’ll be fine.” I laughed.
“Yes, well… I’d better get the camera.”
Ollie left me bound in the storeroom while he ran up to get the camera from our apartment upstairs, but as he left, he closed the door to the storeroom, out of habit, I guess, which turned off the lights, leaving me in the dark with the other meatgirls.
Oh, this felt so right, I thought, I must get Ollie back in the routine of leaving me in here as just another meatgirl, I’ve missed this so much.
The light returning let me know that Ollie was back, the door opened, and he walked in with a camera in hand. “Okay, I’m going to take a few pictures so you can see for yourself how you look next to them.”
He took several shots, moving around to get some different angles, and once satisfied that he had taken enough, he walked over and lifted me off of the hook and handed me the camera. The small screen on the back of the camera displayed the images that he’d taken, though it was difficult to make out. I could see the row of meatgirls hanging there with me in the middle, but I looked totally out of place; all of their heads were covered by a cloth bag and were gagged, while my head was bare.
“I’m still not sure, I mean, it’s hard to tell, I look out of place among them.”
“Yes, but your body looks like theirs.”
“No, I think that we need to make me look the same, so that I can get a better perspective on how we compare. I need you to gag me and fix the bag over my head, please, just for the photos.”
“Okay, but this is just for the photos,” he stressed.
Picking me up with his strong hands, he moved me back to the rack and fixed my wrists to the hook again, leaving me for a moment to retrieve a gag and the bag for my head.
“Open.”
I willingly opened my mouth, and he pressed the firm ball between my teeth, the straps fastened around my head, drool quickly forming as I adjusted to the delightful feeling of having a gag in my mouth again. The bag was pulled over my head, cutting down my vision to mere outlines in the light. Ollie fastened the ziptie around my neck more out of practice; that was just the way the meatgirls were now stored and sold. Again, he adjusted the meatgirls so that we were all close together again. His hands felt amazing on my naked skin as he adjusted my position; it felt like he was treating me like a meatgirl again.
He stepped back and took in the sight. It was now even harder for him to tell the difference between me and the other meatgirls; the only telltale sign was that I wasn’t wearing a nipple tag like they were. He began taking pictures again, and then he thought that I wouldn’t be too happy with them as I was still too easy to spot among them, so, grabbing the nipple tag off of one of the meatgirls, he attached it to my own, the piercing hole still there kept open by me so that the tagging gun wasn’t needed.
Now I really did look like one of them, and he took many more images of me hanging between the meatgirls, safe in the knowledge that I couldn’t complain this time that I looked any different to them. Once that was done, he put the camera down and came over to where I was now enjoying myself, reaching around my body. He lifted me up so that my wrists were free from the hook, but he didn’t free me.
He hoisted me over his shoulder and carried me out of the storeroom. I wondered what he was doing, but bound and gagged, there was little I could do at this moment anyway. I heard the sound of the storeroom door closing, and I was carried up the stairs to our apartment. He took me into our spare bedroom, which we have converted into our playroom, and threw my bound body down on the bed. Then, grabbing my wrists, they were fastened to the headboard, and with my ankles still bound together, I was rolled over so that I lay face down.
“Time for that reward that you promised,” he said, gloating.
Bound, gagged, and hooded, I was his for the taking, and take me he did. Well, I suppose I did promise him, and now it was time for me to deliver. I heard the sound of him undressing, and then felt him climb onto the bed. Soon, his naked skin was pressing against my own, his rough hands exploring, lifting my body so that he could squeeze my tender breasts, his hardened member pressing between the soft folds of my rear. Rubbing himself against me, until he decided that he wanted more, his firm penis pressing against my rear hole, pushing harder until any resistance was overcome, his member rushing in to fill me completely.
The weight of his heavy body as he lay on top of me pressed me deeper into the soft mattress beneath me. I felt trapped, but delighted in the wonderful feeling, my submissive side coming out and enjoying what was happening to me. But with all the excitement and teasing back in the storeroom, and the dominant position that he now had over me, it was just too much for him to hold himself back, and taking me like this, there was really no need to. I felt him tense up, his penis press as deeply as it could inside of me, down to the hilt, and then the release as he came inside of me, riding out the last spasms of his climax until he dropped down and rested on my body.
But if I thought that I would soon be free, I was mistaken, for not long after I felt the stirring of his member again, and this time he took his time, enjoying me for his own amusement; this was no wham-bang thank you ma’am, it was prolonged and enjoyable on both our parts. I must admit that I do love being taken and used like this, and he knows that, but he loves doing that to me, too; it’s just something that we share in common.
Later, after I was finally free and showered, I finally got to see the pictures that he had taken of me among the row of meatgirls. It was only after, when he added the nipple tag, that I seemed to be really indistinguishable from the others, even he admitted that he would find it hard to tell the difference, which made me very gratified after all I went through.
But what also made me joyous was that I had managed to enjoy a moment of being a meatgirl again, even if only briefly, and I thanked him for allowing me to see for myself how I looked with my own clones. Of course, my way of thanking him was with me down on my knees, slurping on the now hardened manhood like a popsicle, one with a creamy inside that you eventually got down to, taking my time and savoring the moment.
I really needed to find a way for Ollie to treat me as a meatgirl again, and leave me trussed up in the storeroom to enjoy some quality time among the meatgirls on the rack. Well, the initial way that I had managed to get him to try this in the first place seemed to be the right answer: use my body to seduce him, focus on getting him sexually aroused, have him bind me in the safety of our playroom, but make suggestive comments about how good I look when bound and stored away.
I can usually get my own way when I tease him, edging him until he agrees to whatever I want without pushing him over the brink and letting him finish. Obviously, having the blood rush down to his small brain makes clearer thinking impossible, something that I can use to my own advantage. Of course, there’s also the promise of a well-deserved reward after, for allowing me to get what I wanted, and we both win there, as I get to enjoy that as well.
So I needed to start out slow and tease, which I did, and I was bound up tightly either in the playroom, kitchen, or bedroom, while being used by him. There were several times that I got him to leave me bound and gagged after using me, either on the bed or stored away in our playroom cupboard, which he had converted into a meatgirl locker. Each time he used me like this, I got him to treat me like I was one of the meatgirls downstairs, calling me his meatgirl, which gave me a delicious tingle each time he said that.
But of course, the moment that I think broke my meatgirl storage drought was his birthday. If you’ve followed my story, then you may remember when I got Matt to truss me up and place me in the oven in our apartment kitchen for Ollie to find. Well, Matt was now looking after the other shop, which is three hours away, so I couldn’t get his help. So I had to improvise, first I placed the roasting tray on the kitchen table, then naked, I climbed up and knelt in the pan, reaching next to me for the bottle of oil that I began coating my body with until I was thoroughly covered from head to toe.
Next came the binding with twine. It was easy to do my legs, kneeling in the pan. I just ran the twine around several times and bound my calves and thighs together, repeating this on my other leg until I was happy with the result. As a decorative touch, I added some ruffled paper frills around my ankles, and I applied some to my wrists too.
I had left a note for Ollie to enjoy stuffing his bird, and hoped that he enjoyed his birthday meal. Now for the apple gag, opening my mouth and inserting the apple as far as I could, I bit down to hold it in place. The final piece was binding my wrists with the twine, I had practiced this part several different ways, trying to replicate how Matt had tied me, but the twine either slipped so that I was free, or it was too hard for me to do, so I settled on making a few loops of twine and binding my wrists behind my back, with some more twine making a noose around the middle of the loops, which I managed to tie to my ankles and pulled to tighten the wrist binding.
Happy that I was now trussed up and ready, I lay there on the baking tray waiting for Ollie to finish work downstairs and come up to find his birthday gift from me. It felt good being bound, even by my own hand, and I drifted off into thoughts of what could happen if I were trussed up this way for real. I could soon be going into a hot oven, after being stuffed full and coated in some sort of glaze. I could feel myself getting wet at the thought of that happening, so by the time Ollie found me, I was already creating my own gravy.
Of course, Ollie enjoyed finding me like this, and he did indeed stuff me, several times; he even adjusted my bondage to tie me up properly, saying that he would sack someone who bound up a meatgirl like this so sloppily, which sent a delightful shiver through my body. At one point, he even carried me to the oven, which was not on, but he said that he needed a moment to recover, but also he had a contractor coming over to make some alterations to the apartment, and he needed to put me away out of sight, and what better place for a trussed up meatgirl than the oven.
I spent just over two hours inside of the oven, at one point, I heard Ollie bring the contractor into the kitchen, who began talking about making some changes in here, a new kitchen layout, and some other details that I sort of heard, but by now I was well into being nothing more than a meatgirl waiting to roast in the oven. There was one point when I thought that Ollie was about to expose me in the oven, when talking about a bigger cooker that would easily fit a meatgirl inside, opening the door slightly to reveal that he had one ready to cook later.
Well, that sent me over the edge. I was already well on my way to nirvana, and with him talking about me being ready to roast, just sent the right signals to my brain, and I came there and then inside of the oven. Luckily, the apple that I’d used as a gag muffled my cries, and by now the oven door had closed again, sealing any chance that those standing close by could hear my groaning as the climax ran through my tightly bound body.
Later, when Ollie finally brought me back out of the oven, he used me again before unbinding me and carrying me to the bath that he had prepared. Lying me gently down in the warm water, the bubbles that he’d added covering my naked flesh.
“Thank you for such a wonderful birthday gift, I really enjoyed it,” he said, with a smile beaming across his face.
“I’m happy that you relished having me.” I teased, and raised myself out of the bubbles and rubbed my breast.
“But I guess that the best part for you was your time in the oven.”
“Mmm, yes, that was fun, but then when you brought that guy in and nearly exposed me, saying that you were going to roast me later, brought out a wonderful orgasm.”
“I knew that you’d like that.”
“You know me too well, I love it when you treat me like I’m just another meatgirl.”
“Yes, but that usually leads to trouble.”
“But it doesn’t have to be, we could maybe start out small, maybe an hour or two, with you in charge I’m sure that it’ll be safe, especially after hours, and with the new shutters, I can be locked away where nobody can find me.” I kept rubbing my naked skin with my hands, distracting him and getting him to focus on my body.
“And of course, there’s always the reward afterwards.” I teased, my hand drifting down to rub between my legs.
“I’m not sure…” he began, but stopped as I stood in the bath, stepping out. I was soon on my knees, looking up at him, my body glistening with a mixture of oil and water.
But after a quick blowjob, he had changed his mind.
“Okay, you win, we can try it on Friday, but only after the shop is closed and the outside shutters are down, and only for a short while.”
“Thank you, my master.” I giggled, and went back to finish my bath.
The rest of the week seemed to drag; I had been building myself up for this the whole week, but finally Friday came around, and I had finished work early and returned home. I greeted Ollie and his worker before heading up to our apartment. Stripping off, I jumped into the shower to clean the day's grime from my skin. I wanted to be fresh for my time in the storeroom. I then sat naked in the kitchen waiting for the shop to close and the worker to go home. Eventually, the time came for me to go down; I felt butterflies in my stomach as I descended the stairs back down to the shop.
Ollie was busy completing a few tasks, and he didn’t notice me standing there naked, my arms at my sides, feeling slightly anxious, but looking forward to getting back into my meatgirl fantasy. When he did eventually see me, he looked a bit stunned, like he wasn’t expecting to see me standing there naked.
“Oh, right, it’s time, is it?”
“Yes,” I answered, feeling very submissive at this moment.
“Well, come over here so I can get a good look at my latest meatgirl.”
A shiver ran down my spine, he had called me a meatgirl again, and I so loved it when he did. I walked into the main area of the shop, but still behind the counter, I noticed that the front of the shop was covered by the roller shutters, so the only lighting was from overhead.
“You’re sure that you still want to try this?” he asked.
“Yes, please, I want you to bind me and place me in the storeroom among the other meatgirls.”
“Okay, but I’ll decide just how long you remain in there.”
“That’s fine, I’m just happy that you’re allowing me back in there.”
“Well, I did agree, though reluctantly, but okay, my precious meatgirl, let’s get you ready.”
Without his asking, I held my wrists out for him to bind them. Once they were securely tied, he moved onto my ankles, binding them together with rope. Satisfied with how I was now bound, he picked me up and carried me into the storeroom, just as he did with all of the meatgirls. There had been a fresh delivery today, so the rack was nearly full, and once he had put me down, I got a good look at the cloned meatgirls.
I could see that there was no noticeable difference between them; each one looked identical to the others, and with the bags over their heads, it made them even more so.
Ollie went over and began making some space for me, but he was having trouble with that, so I stopped him and suggested that he remove one of the meatgirls and put me in her place. I would need her nipple tag anyway, so taking the tag off the clone that I would be replacing made sense.
We had previously discussed having me inside of the storeroom again, and the problem with the nipple tag had come up. Previously, I had my own, but of course, that was no longer usable, as according to the records, I had been disposed of by the cloning lab and put through the processing facility.
“Well, we could just switch the tags,” I had suggested, “and you could store the meatgirl up here in the playroom cupboard, so if any inspector showed up, you’d have the correct number of meatgirls all with matching tags.”
I thought that the mention of the inspector would possibly stop Ollie from allowing me back in the storeroom, but he could see that I would be heartbroken if he didn’t allow it.
So back to the storeroom, Ollie picked up one of the clones and brought it over to stand next to me. His hands grabbed the tag that it wore and gently removed it, then, turning to me, he found my piercing hole, the jewelry that I wear to keep it open was upstairs, and put the tag on me. It felt marvelous as his hands manipulated my breast when applying the tag, and also having one again dangling from my own nipple after so long. I was beginning to feel like I was just a product again, and that certain tingle started deep inside of me before spreading out to find all of my more sensitive parts.
Ollie picked me up and carried me over to the rack, placing my bound wrists onto the hook. I was now stuck here until he wanted to release me, hopefully not too soon, I thought to myself.
He left me for a moment while he carried the other meatgirl out of the storeroom and upstairs to our spare bedroom, where he stored it away. Meanwhile, I was enjoying being back, I tested the ropes binding me, and I even tried getting free from the hook, but I knew from my past experience that I could never manage that. I took in the sight of the other meatgirls in front of me and over on the other rack, which brought back many pleasant memories of my time there.
My thoughts were interrupted when Ollie returned, in his hands were both the gag and bag that I would soon be wearing. Without making any comment, he walked over and placed the gag in my mouth, which I willingly took in. Having fastened the gag, he moved on to the bag. I took one last look at Ollie, the slight smile on his face letting me know that he was pleased to see me here again.
He pulled the bag over my head, cutting out all but the outline of my surroundings. He then fastened the ziptie around my neck just tight enough to secure the bag but not enough to cut off my airway. He then attached the feeding tube to the gag through a hole in the bag, which surprised me slightly, as I thought that I would only be here for an hour or so.
Maybe he’s changed his mind, I thought, while yearning for a much longer session than we originally had planned.
With one final check on me, his hands exploring my bare flesh, running over my naked curves, and finishing on my rear. His touch felt wonderful, and it began to send that delightful tingle through my body again. But then his hands left, and he arranged the meatgirls on either side of me to press against me. The feel of their warm, soft skin, a contrast to Ollie’s rough hands, not that I minded those hands, they have brought me to many glorious orgasms in the past, but I do like the touch of their skin on mine.
But now it was time to leave me here, but first he took the opportunity to take a few photos of his newly minted meatgirl, which at the time I wasn’t aware of, but it would be added to our private collection. Satisfied that everything was now in order, all of the meatgirls in their place and accounted for, it was time to shut up for the night. As he left the storeroom, he took one last look at the row of meatgirls. There was no way that he could tell them apart, but that was a problem for another day.
With the closing of the door, it turned off the light inside the storeroom, plunging the stock inside into darkness. Well, product doesn’t need lights, and there was very little that they could see anyway, what with the bag over their heads and being in an enclosed space. And of course, why waste power on something that didn’t need it, and they would all find themselves in a small dark place inside of an oven soon enough.
The sound of the door closing let me know that I was now stuck in here until Ollie wished to release me, the darkness adding to the fact that I was now just product, just another meatgirl on the rack. But then I heard the roller shutter closing as well, so I was going to be kept here for longer, I hoped, even overnight. My mind began to relish the thought of that; this would be something special that I had looked forward to for some time.
But whatever thoughts I was having at that moment were soon put aside when the meatgirl in front of me pressed back into my body, and the one behind started to join in. Soon all of the meatgirls started their rhythmic dance, which I had so missed, and longed to enjoy again. It was a long, slow process, but eventually each of the meatgirls got to enjoy their own climax, something to take pleasure in, and with their short lives, they seemed to get comfort from the whole ritual.
Ollie left me in the storeroom until bedtime, but as he needed to work off some of his own sexual needs, he came down and swapped me with the other meatgirl. He kept me bound and gagged, which he seemed to like doing more and more lately, and took me up to our bedroom, where after bringing out another orgasm or two from me, he promptly fell asleep, leaving me still bound until the morning.
After that night, I wanted to experience a longer session inside of the storeroom, and I wondered how I could get Ollie to do that for me. I at least wanted to be kept there overnight. But it seemed that Ollie had a similar idea, but for his own needs rather than mine; he had arranged a round of golf on Sunday, and he knew that I usually wanted to be with him on the weekends, as we’re busy during the week, him with the shop and me with my contracting work.
So when I suggested that I wanted to spend some quality time as a meatgirl again, I found that he was quite agreeable, which surprised me, but I didn’t want to spoil the moment. We had arranged to go out for a meal on Friday, so that day was out, maybe Saturday, I thought, but then I found out that he had some contractors in, working on the shop. I could have been bound and put in place in the morning, as the contractors would be unaware that I was nothing more than just another meatgirl.
But then Ollie had one of his employees in that day too, relieving Ollie to supervise the contractor's work, and once the shop was closed, it was too late for me to join the other meatgirls, as the contractors were now very busy rebuilding the shop. They were there late into the evening, and by the time they were finished, Ollie was too tired and headed off to bed, leaving me a frustrated and disappointed meatgirl.
But I was awoken early by Ollie, the contractors would be back to complete what they needed to soon, and he suggested that I might like to be put away in the storeroom before they arrived. I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, quickly wiping away any residue from him using me with his morning wood, before returning, eager to get back into the storeroom.
Ollie bound my wrists and ankles and then carried me downstairs. While he waited for the roller shutter to open, he pushed the gag into my mouth and added the bag over my head. Once that was done, he carried me into the storeroom, grabbing one of the meatgirls nipple tags and applying it to my own. I was quickly hoisted up onto the ceiling hook, and I was put back in my rightful place. Pushing the remaining meatgirls so we were all connected, he did one final check, during which he added the forgotten feeding tube, and he was finally satisfied that no one could tell the difference between me and the others hanging there.
Picking up the now spare meatgirl, he carried it over his shoulder out of the storeroom, closing the door behind him, the final sound of the roller shutter closing letting me know that I was going to be here for a while. He again stored the meatgirl upstairs, and waited for the contractors to arrive. Once they were settled into their tasks, he was now happy to leave them to it.
But before he was about to leave for his golf game, one of the contractors told him that they had to access the storeroom for the electrics, they were replacing the old circuit board, so they would need to enter to make some changes.
Ollie was in two minds at that moment; he had his wife bound and gagged, hanging inside. Could he allow them to enter, well, there was no way that he could swap her out without raising questions. But he recalled that once I’m bound as a meatgirl, I always wanted to be treated like one of them, and that I wouldn’t break from my role or acknowledge anyone while I was being kept as a meatgirl. And as even he couldn’t tell me apart from the other meatgirls, he doubted that the contractors would see anything different. And he had arranged this game of golf ages ago, and he couldn’t disappoint his golf buddies.
So he handed over the keys and left the contractors to their tasks, finally leaving to head off to the golf course. Meanwhile, inside of the storeroom, I was now in the throes of nearing my first orgasm of the day, the meatgirls all doing their magical dance when left alone, bringing some joy to their short existence. But the sounds of the roller door opening put a stop to that. Obviously, someone was about to enter the storeroom, but I hadn’t been here that long, so I hadn't seen what was happening on the outside.
I knew that the contractors would be working in the shop, but being a Sunday, the store was closed, though I doubt that the meatgirls knew that. My first thought was a surprise inspection, but did they work on the weekend? I wasn’t too sure, but I mentally prepared myself in case I would again be inspected like I was previously. I had barely managed to pass that time, the feel of the inspector's cold hands had shocked me, but I thought that I had gotten away with her thinking that I was just another meatgirl, the only problem was with my tag and how long I had been kept in stock.
But this time, should they come, I thought that by wearing the active tag of a proper meatgirl, I could easily pass their inspection. The only downside to wearing the tag would be if one of the workers entered, to them, I would just be part of the stock to be sold. But at the moment, that wasn’t a problem, as I wouldn’t be in here on those days that they usually work.
The storeroom door opening and the sound of footsteps inside of the room broke any thoughts that I was having. The meatgirls had now stopped moving, and they themselves were listening, waiting for the hands that would grab them from the rack and carry them out to the main part of the shop, to be bundled up and sold.
But there were no hands, just the sound of someone working, a few shouts to someone on the outside of the storeroom, something about power was all I could make out. I was just hoping that they would soon be finished so that I could get back to my unfulfilled climax. However, events were quickly about to change; the original wiring was found to be faulty, causing parts of the storeroom to conduct live electricity into certain metal parts, which deemed the whole room unsafe.
The power was cut, which meant that the feeding and cooling systems were no longer working. Luckily, there was a solution to the problem of what to do with the meatgirls was just out the back of the shop. With the renovations of the shop, the storeroom was going to be enlarged to hold more stock, part of Ollie’s expansion plans, and the current stock of meatgirls were due to be removed from the storeroom the next day and placed into the special container, which would keep them fresh and also feed them.
However, with Ollie away at the golf course, the contractors had no choice but to move the entire stock of meatgirls today instead, including me. Of course, they didn’t know that one of the meatgirls wasn’t really one, but then just by looking at them, they couldn’t see any difference, and treated them all the same. They started hauling the meatgirls from the storeroom one by one, each one thrown over a shoulder and carried out to the container.
It was soon my turn. I felt the rough hands grab my waist and lift me up, as I was slung over the guy's shoulder. I was worried that I would end up in some other shop’s storeroom like before, but there was absolutely nothing that I could do at this moment; I couldn't reveal myself, it would be embarrassing, and complicate things. I just had to accept my situation.
As the guy hoisted me onto his shoulder, he adjusted my position, and his fingers brushed against my soft, but thoroughly wet pussy, slipping inside slightly for a moment as he carried me out of the storeroom.
I must admit I was enjoying the moment, being carted around like the product that I was. His hand remained where it was, his fingers pressing against the soft petals of my sex, gently rubbing my tender flesh as he carried me to my fate.
The sounds changed, I was now outside, and I was expecting to be loaded onto a waiting truck, to be carted off to some unknown place. Would I become just part of their stock and be sold like any other meatgirl? The thought did turn me on, but I had been down that dangerous road before and should have known better, but at this moment, I didn’t care.
The sound changed again, we were entering some sort of metal container, there was a distinct sound of boots on metal, and then I was placed down, my wrists held above me and attached to a hook. Slightly disappointed that the probing hand had now gone, leaving me wet and wanting, then a hand began pushing me back until my body connected with another meatgirl, soon another was pressed up against me, squeezing us together. I didn’t know that the container was smaller than the storeroom, so there was a need to press us all against each other to make room.
More and more meatgirls were placed inside until the original storeroom was empty. Now it was just a case of checking that each meatgirl’s feeding tube was connected, and then finally the sound of the container doors closing, and the locks attached to secure us all inside. I was still waiting for the sound of the truck engine to start, still having that little doubt in my mind that I was off on another perilous adventure again. But there was no truck, just the container. I was safe for now. Except how would Ollie find me in here?
Well, the contractors went back to what they were doing, and so did the meatgirls too; their little dance began again, and this time without interruption. I finally had the orgasm that I had been building back in the storeroom, and was just resting for the moment when the feeding tube activated. I had missed the breakfast one, but this must be the lunchtime one, which is shorter and more to maintain the fluid requirements of the meatgirls, keeping them in top condition for sale.
Again, I enjoyed another slow session with the meatgirls, bringing me to my second orgasm, before dozing off, content that I had been able to experience this joy again. It was only when I was woken up by the feeding system again for the evening that I began to wonder what was going on. Maybe Ollie was going to leave me here until later this evening, or even early tomorrow morning, which would be okay with me. In any case, I could spend some more quality time with my fellow meatgirls.
But, on the outside, things were not quite so straightforward. The contractors had finished working for the day and had packed up and left. Ollie had returned from his game to find the workers gone, but also, more concerning was that the storeroom was now empty. Where had the stock gone? And even more concerning, where was his wife?
He rang the contractor, who explained the situation with the power in the storeroom, and that the stock had been safely placed into the container. So that sort of settled Ollie’s mind a bit. He hoped that I hadn’t given myself away, but knowing me, he thought that I would have enjoyed the experience, and the contractor hadn’t said that anything was out of the ordinary with the handling of the meatgirls, so no problem there.
However, when he asked the contractor where the key was, thinking that he could get me out and take me upstairs, the contractor informed him that he had forgotten to leave it behind, apologizing but stating that he would be there before the shop opened the next day so that he could access the stock.
But now Ollie was in a bit of a problem, I was still bound and hanging with the rest of the meatgirls, but if he asked the contractor to come back with the keys, how would that sound, he didn’t want to give away that his wife was bound and was stored away with the rest of the stock, that would cause too many problems, so he had no option than to leave me in there and hope that he could get me out before the shop opened the next day.
Of course, things never go as planned, the contractor who had the key was held up in traffic, causing him to arrive after the shop was opened. And one of Ollie’s workers had already started their day getting things organized inside the shop, ready for the customers to arrive. Everything was out of Ollie’s control at the moment; he could only look on, so the only thing that he could do was to get on with the task of making the shop presentable after all of the changes that had been made.
In the meantime, I had been woken up by the breakfast feeding, I had had a wonderful long night bringing out the most glorious orgasms in my entire time as a meatgirl, the fact that I had been handled like I was just part of the stock playing into my fevered mind as I rubbed my sweaty body against the meatgirl in front of me, the delightful feeling of the one behind it rubbed against my own skin helped too. But now, I began to wonder just what was happening; had I been forgotten, or had something happened to Ollie, like the boating accident, but what could go wrong on a golf course, I thought.
Finally, the sound of the container door opening broke my thoughts. I expected that I would soon be thrown over Ollie’s shoulder and carted upstairs to our apartment, ending my time as just one of the meatgirls. But that wasn’t about to happen; unknown to me at that moment, the shop was open, and the contractors were here working on the storeroom upgrade, so there was no safe way for Ollie to get me out of here.
Ollie looked at the three rows of meatgirls jammed into the smaller space, how the hell could I find her in there? he thought.
He started to examine the first row, initially checking that the feeding tubes were still attached, but also looking to see if he could see me among the meatgirls. Having no luck, he moved on to the next row, again checking them all but still not finding his own meatgirl. Finally, on to the third row, thinking that I must be among them. But still not having any luck finding me.
Then he remembered that we had decided on a safeword for our bondage games in the bedroom, should he tie me too tight, or that I was in pain. He wondered if it would work in this situation, knowing my rule about not giving myself away while being a meatgirl. So he walked along the line saying our word quietly in the hope that I would reveal myself to him.
It took me a moment to realize what he was doing, and he had gone past me hanging there before I responded with a grunt. There must be some need for him to use our word, so I thought that I had better respond; it seemed that he needed me to at that moment, breaking my own rule.
He stopped in his tracks, and then said the word again, and he heard me grunt again, then he moved closer, his hands checking over my body, which I must admit did feel nice, and I fully expected him to lift me off of the hook and cart me away. But he just moved in closer and whispered that there was a problem.
“Listen carefully, the shop is open, one of my workers is in, as well as the contractors, so I don’t know if I can get you out of here at the moment, so is it okay for you to stay here for a while longer?”
Being gagged, I could only grunt or nod my head, which I did to get my message across that I was happy to stay here.
“Right, you’re well back in the container, so I doubt that we’ll sell that many meatgirls today, being a Monday, but just to make sure, I’ll be the only one with a key to the container, that’ll keep you safely stored away.”
Again, I grunted, happy in the knowledge that I would be spending much more time among the meatgirls today.
“I bet that sent a thrill through you,” he joked, and then said teasingly, “Maybe I’ll just leave you in here until all of the meatgirls are sold.”
That thought sent another one of those delightful shivers through me, ending up in all of the usual spots, my nipples rising to the occasion and my chest flushed. Ollie’s hand reached down to feel between my legs, checking just how turned on I was at this moment. Of course, he found it very moist down there, what with the orgasms that I had while stuck in here, and the thought of remaining here for the foreseeable future did tick all of my boxes.
Ollie left me and closed the container door, sealing me away inside, and then went back to work in the shop. He was right, there were only a couple of meatgirls sold that day, and of course, he took the opportunity to tease me, grabbing hold of me and saying that I would make a fine roast. But then, picking another meatgirl and carrying it out, sealing me back inside, my thoughts drifted back to the many times that I had been bound and prepared for the customer, especially under Matt’s expert hands.
Maybe I should visit the other shop, just to check on the quality of his workmanship, I thought, my mind recalling the feel of the very tight bondage that he had put me in.
The day continued, the contractors carried on working, the shop remained quiet, the meatgirls carried on their little dance, and I got to experience another orgasm or two before the end of the trading day.
Finally with the shop now empty, the shutters down, Ollie now had the ideal moment to get me from the storage container, which he did, his hands grabbing me and throwing me over his shoulder, carrying me back and upstairs to our spare bedroom, dropping me on the bed, he left to take the meatgirl that I had replaced back to the container.
Then returning, he made sure that I was secured to the bed, and he finally took me for his own pleasure. He kept me bound there for the rest of the evening, before releasing me and heading off to bed, well satisfied and content, which was good on my part, for it meant that I could again start to indulge my meatgirl dreams again on a more frequent basis. And maybe a visit to the other shop too…