Raquel's Tales

Of Perverse Delights

The Restaurant (Part Two)

By Raquel Silestra

(Bad Hygiene, Smoking/Tobacco-Play, Scat, Vomit, Lesbianism, Romance, Incest, Pedo, Messy, Violence, Snuff, Cannibalism, Food-Play, etc.)

WARNING: Don't read this story if you are under 18 years of age or offended by any of the above topics. The author does not condone anything illegal. Abide by all the laws that apply to your locality and country. If you haven't read "The Restaurant, Part One" then this story will make very little sense to you, so please read it first to get maximum enjoyment out of this one. Now that all that is said and done, if you aren't offended by incest, or shit eating, or cannibalism, or murder, or disgusting practices, or lesbianism, or smoking, or anything at all, then you may read on, and please - enjoy!

Part One

"What the fuck do you mean, I can't have my hair appointment on Thursday anymore?! This is fucking bullshit!!"

Tisha Gibbs, the young second-grade elementary school teacher, threw her nearly-finished cigarette down on the ground in frustration and fumbled for a fresh one, digging through her purse as she continued the cellphone call. "No I can't do it on Wednesday, I have to take the motherfucking rugrats on a goddamned overnight field trip that day - it's why I have most of Thursday off, an- ohhh, that's rich - what the motherfucking fuck good does Friday do me, my date is on Thursday night! What?" Tisha's eyes grew wide. "You know what?" she spat through the cigarette clenched between her lips. "You can eat - my - shit Pierre, and fuck you and your bullshit salon!!" Angrily, she pressed the End Call button, her hands shaking due to her jangled nerves. Tossing the cell into her purse, she took several deep puffs and inhales on her cigarette.

Turning her head, Tisha glared down at the sad-faced seven year-old girl with reddish hair who was slowly licking up and swallowing dusty, dirty old cigarette butts from the thousands that littered the ground behind the school building where staff went to smoke. Noticing a tear rolling down the little girl's cheek, the beautiful young teacher snorted with disgust. "What the fuck are you crying for? Don't piss me off, bitch. Do you want something to cry about, 'cause this is nothing. Remember this if you can with your tiny little brain the next time you think of daydreaming instead of paying attention in my class, you stupid little cunt." Noticing her beeping watch, Miss Gibbs dropped her two-thirds finished cigarette to the dirty ground and ground it under her heel. "EAT IT!" she shouted harshly, pointing to the fresh butt: it was time to go back inside. The student had been punished in this manner before. She knew the routine.

Grateful that the ordeal was nearly over, the poor pale girl scampered over on her hands and knees and quickly licked up the foul-tasting poisonous butt with her little tongue, wincing as part of the ash that was still hot burned it painfully for a brief moment before she could swallow. Her mouth was dry and tasted like an ashtray.

Climbing to her feet, the girl quickly dusted her knees off and hurried to open the door for her teacher, who walked through without saying a word, still pissed over her lost appointment with the town's best hairstylist...

***

The early-morning sun shone through the second-storey window and spilled across the bed as Jennifer Meadows, a 30 year-old single mother of one, woke with a yawn and cat-like stretch, her nude body tangled in the silky sheets. Smiling at the sound of some birds singing near the window, she got up and padded barefoot over to her dresser. Picking up a box of birdseed, she went to the window and opened it.

Placing the birdseed on the sill, Jennifer grabbed her loaded handpistol from her drawer and smiled psychotically as she took aim at the gentle, harmless birds. They never fucking learn, she thought to herself as she centered the sights on a singing robin's head and squeezed the trigger. BLAMM! The bird was dead instantly. As its fresh corpse fell to the ground from the tree it had been standing upon and the other birds flew away in a frightened flurry, Jennifer noticed a nest with three hungry baby robins, now utterly defenseless. One by one, she shot them all dead, giggling as she did so. BLAAM! - BLAM! - BLAMM!!

Blowing a whisper of smoke from the gun's barrel, Jennifer placed it on the sill to cool and grabbed herself a cigarette. Lighting it, she stood and smoked deeply, enjoying that warm after-murder glow that was so much like an after-sex glow, and enjoying the lovely view, sans annoying birdsong. "Much better," she said while exhaling a cloud of poisonous cigarette smoke. "Come back tomorrow, I love to start my day with some fun..."

She had a busy day ahead of her. Her seven year-old daughter Summer was being kept home from school today for one. Jennifer needed to take the girl to an ominous medical facility commonly known as only "The Centre" for secret memory modification procedures. The lissome blonde mother had wilfully choked her daughter half to death only the night before (after becoming enraged when Summer would not lick her mother's disgustingly unclean cunt). Jennifer needed to have those memories modified in order for her to retain the innocent love of her sweet little girl. She wanted to see the familiar joy in Summer's eyes, not horrified fear, when her daughter looked at her. The Centre would see to that.

What's more, it had to be done quickly, since Jennifer and Summer had a special outing planned for that very evening: Jennifer had received a special invitation to the grand opening of a new restaurant in town, Chéz Cherie - a restaurant that served only females. Summer had reacted with excitement towards the news yesterday evening and Jennifer wasn't about to disappoint her little girl. Nor herself; she too was looking forward to this rare night out on the town in what promised to be a posh gathering.

Throwing the nearly-finished cigarette out the open window, Jennifer made sure to sprinkle a liberal amount of fresh birdseed onto the outer sill, and laughed...it was going to be a lovely day indeed.

"Summer!" she called out, wondering where the scamp had gotten to. "Summer, I've a long day of sitting around being lazy planned well in advance, so fucking get in here so I can dress you. Sum-" Jennifer stopped in mid-call. Her daughter appeared in the doorway, looking meek and frightened. Like her mother, she was totally nude (they had gone to sleep that way since "body heat will keep those cold germs away from you" Jennifer had said). The blonde woman frowned. "Why are you looking at me like that, Summer? You were fine when we went to sleep last night, remember? Mummy promised she wouldn't hurt you, and we're going to see the doctor in a while to make you all better."

The nude seven year-old fidgeted in place, curling the bare toes on her right foot, her long waist-length black tresses falling across her eyes. "I know, Mummy," she said in a small voice. "It's just ... I had some bad dreams." She looked up, hesitant. "I was scared to tell you."

Jennifer wasn't angry, but she was impatient to get her girl dressed. The Centre was not known for tolerating tardiness. "Look, Summer, there's no need to be scared to tell me anything, Mummy loves you. But right now we have to get to the doctor's or you'll miss your appointment. Now I'm sure you'd like to have a big smoky cigarette before we go, wouldn't you?" The young girl nodded vigorously, already brightening at the prospect of the taboo treat her mother was offering. "Good," Jennifer continued, "then let's get you dressed quickly and you can have two cigarettes, OK my dearest?" "OK Mummy!" Summer sang out happily. running to her bedroom naked as quick as her little legs could carry her.

Seeing her daughter run off, Jennifer rang her fingers through her own quickly-moistening slit and labia, and licked her lips. She was tempted to take the time to eat out Summer's baby cunt before getting her ready for the appointment, but time seemed to lose all meaning for the blonde when she started slurping cunt-cream. A delayed gratification is twice as lovely when it arrives, she thought wisely, and quickly got dressed to avoid temptation. A pair of faded blue jeans (no panties), her favourite black cashmere turtleneck sweater and a pair of white sneakers that stank had Jennifer ready to go. After throwing a simple dress onto her daughter and a pair of buckle shoes (and no panties, just like her mum), she watched Summer smoke two full cigarettes (while smoking herself, of course), squeezing her thighs together over and over in wet pleasure within her blue jeans.

The drive to the Centre was uneventful. Jennifer popped the newest CD by the Girl Diddlers (a three-piece, lesbian female, pedo folk-rock group) into the car stereo as they drove along. "Sheena's Slit" was one of her favourite tracks: "And Sheena's slit, so bare and hairless / with a clit like solid wood / When Sheena's sister turned eleven / she was too old for her own good..." Finally arriving at the Centre, mother and daughter entered and walked down the hall to the right before passing through the third doorway. The beautiful, vivacious receptionist Betty noticed the pair and smiled.

"Well hello again Summer," Betty said cutely, bending down with her knees to face the child. "I see it's time for another treatment for you! It's very good of you to be on time. Would you like a reward?" Summer nodded, a grin stretching her cherubic features. Betty reached behind her desk and pulled out a jar full of candies, popped the lid off, and offered one to the girl. What Summer didn't know (as she immediately ate the candy) was that the Centre's candies were filled with hardcore psychotropic drugs, which would assist the staff in their mysterious procedures and if nothing else, fuck the girl up for a few hours. The candies also caused just the slightest bit of irreversible brain damage, which was one reason it was important not to overdo the treatments...that is, unless you wanted to create a brain-damaged fucked-up child. The Centre specialized in such tailored abuses to those seeking them, alongside its more kindly specialty of memory modification.

The two grown ladies sat down with Summer on the reception room couch, on either side of her, holding her hands, rubbing her bare tiny thighs and murmuring soft encouragement into her ears until they saw in Summer's eyes that the drugs were taking clear effect. Betty's soft bare toes pushed into the carpet with delight as she saw the child foam at the mouth just a little, glazed eyes occasionally twitching. "She's ready now," she said softly, her smile beatific. Leading the youngster by the hand, Betty and Summer walked slowly down the hall through a double-set of doors, as though in a trance, and disappeared behind them. Not even Jennifer was privy to the details of what went on during the Centre's treatments; they maintained a strict employees-only policy on that issue. Parents simply had to live with it, and children never remembered any details of their treatment. Still, a girl can wonder, Jennifer thought to herself as she sat back with a magazine (Miss Kanada Kills Her Little Kellie: Abortion Addiction), lit a cigarette (the Centre encouraged a smoking-friendly policy), and flipped to the first sexily gruesome pornographic page...

***

Part Two

Donna Buckley kicked her open-back clog mules off and put her stinking pantyhosed feet up on her desk as she sat back in her chair, chewing a pen and reading yet another boring stastistics report. The pungent aroma of her freed soles filled the cubicle in a matter of seconds. One co-worker had actually vomited in the hall once because of her feet-odor - the stink of Donna's soles was that horrible.

A 36 year old honey-blonde with mid-length locks, Donna had been well-known for her fat naturally big tits ever since she blossomed from flat to an E-cup at the age of eleven ("she's a Buckley" had become a popular town saying to refer to an early bloomer). Donna's local fame had been helped along by the fact that she had freely let any boy or man feel up and/or fuck her milkbags, baby-making hole, and shitter, ever since her boobs came along. Apart from a few faggots (Donna personally favoured an automatic death penalty for gay men, and subscribed to underground hate literature from several homophobic groups, such as Families Against Faggots; any man not appreciative of cunt was a waste of life as far as she was concerned), she'd never been turned down yet.

There were a few crinkles around her eyes nowadays, and her tits, while still firm, sagged a bit more than they had in high school, but in general she had maintained her youthful good looks. Donna was wearing a low-cut black angora sweater and her tits were bare underneath it, swinging braless against the soft expensive fabric when she moved. She liked how it made her nipples felt, and felt them stiffen just from thinking about her own tits. Her mind drifted away from the report in her hands and a picture of Ginger & Angela formed in its place, nude and frenching almost viciously...

No! I musn't think about them! She shook her head and focused once more on her workplace duties. Ginger Kent and Angela Winters were two lesbians she had gone to high-school with; they had secretly bullied Donna back then, forcing her to strip and have lesbian sex with them. To Donna's secret shame, she had adored the sapphic sex with the couple, and while she made a show of cold disdain towards the now-grown twosome whenever she inevitably ran into them in public (and even lied to herself about her feelings), the truth was that Donna frequently sought out lesbian liasions with other women in town. Dirty, dirty liasions...

Donna felt her teeth tighten around the pen as the fingers of her right hand slowly unsnapped the top button of her slacks and undid the zipper partly, before slipping inside, sliding underneath her pantyhose waistband and slowly advancing to her bushy juicy cunt, as though they had a mind of their own...she was soaking wet already from her momentary vision of Ginger & Angela. Donna's shame over her evident lesbian desires led her to even more promiscuous behaviour with men (which she had no moral qualms about), in an attempt to rid herself of her homosexual desires. Her stinking hosed soles scrunched with pleasure atop her desk as her fingers found the gooey center of her hole and pushed inward, and she pictured two of her favourite Hooters waitresses biting her big bare saggers' nerps hard...

She wasn't going to get any work done in this state. Making a quick call to her friend Debbie to ask if she could cover Donna's workload today (the two traded off for each other regularly), and receiving a positive reply, she hung up, placed her shoes on once more and grabbed her things, giggling. An unplanned day off was nice, especially when one had only dirty sexy plans for it...

Sucking her own twat cream from her fingers, Donna licked her lips and thought for a moment. Yes, she thought, I could definitely use a coffee.

***

Arriving at the coffee shop and scanning with her eyes, she was pleased to see her newest crush standing outside, taking a cigarette break (and apparently struggling with a near-depleted lighter). Walking up to the doe-eyed dark haired barista with Italian looks, Donna said a blushing hello and offered the girl a light. Donna had already exchanged more than just pleasantries with the girl; the vivacious young barista had asked the older woman to call her soon, just the morning before, slipping her phone number to the blonde with the vanilla latte she'd ordered.

"I took the day off," Donna said with a shy smile, to which the younger girl grinned.

"I think my boss can be convinced to let me do the same," she said, blowing smoke into the wind. "I've been letting him fuck my cunt, ass, throat and soles long enough after all; it's about time I started reaping some benefits from that. He's so terrified of getting in shit with the corporate office over fucking my ass that he'll do anything I say, trust me. Just lemme finish my smoke and I'll inform him I've just been given the day off, with pay." They both laughed and a short while later, the young barista re-appeared with her things.

"Let's go!" she giggled, grabbing Donna's hand in her gloved one.

***

Lauren Smellings was not pleased. The grand opening of her exclusive new restaurant Chéz Cherie was only 7 hours away, and she'd just received word from her head chef that an expected meat delivery was going to be late - "they can't even offer a rough guess as to when it'll be here," the French red-haired chef Amanda had said apologetically - and Lauren would be damned if she was going to allow a delivery fuck-up to ruin the night's festivities.

"Call in some local favours," she had instructed. "It may cost a little extra, but once the ladies of this town see how great Chéz Cherie is, we'll earn it back a hundred times over in repeat business." The chef nodded, a wicked grin stretched across her lovely face, and set some of her kitchen staff to the task straightaway.

Walking downstairs to the wine cellar, Lauren used her master key to open an ornate door with a massive old-fashioned lock. Stepping inside, she was pleased to see that her adopted 5 year old Chink babycunt had eaten all the dog shit and dog puke she'd been given for breakfast earlier that morning, and remained heavily chained to the floor. She sneered as the tiny nude Chinese girl looked up at her with brainwashed, adoring eyes.

"No lunch today, babycunt," Lauren said with a smile. "Wouldn't want to spoil your appetite for tonight's big dinner, ha ha ha..." The stupid Chink child just looked at her as she laughed, her tiny mind not comprehending the reason for her Mommy's laughter...

***

Part Three

The barista ripped the crotch panel out of Donna's pantyhose with a passionate fervency, and plunged her wet tongue into Donna's gooey creaming cunt hole, grasping the blonde's bum cheeks for support as she knelt under her mother's kitchen table. Donna had to bite her bottom lip pretty hard to stop from crying out in bliss, her hands white-knuckled from gripping the table. Unaware of what her daughter was doing, the barista's mother Renee stepped back into the kitchen with cookies and coffee. "I don't know where she's gotten off to," Renee said in reference to her daughter. "She's such a slippery girl, but I'm sure you've noticed that by now, am I right Miss Buckley?"

Donna squirmed and attempted to control her ragged breathing. "Y-yes, she's very slippery..."

Renee nodded, hands on her hips as she looked around. "Well of course she is, always has been ... I swear, sometimes I'd just like to hold her down and pound her into place, you know? Nail her tight in one spot, you know?"

Donna groaned. "Ohhhh .... yeahhh ....just one?"

Renee nodded again, barely paying attention to her daughter's guest. "Well, maybe two. I mean, I'm mortified - she brings a guest home and then disappears, what kind of girl treats a woman that way? I do hope you're not too upset at how my daughter is treating you, Miss Buckley."

"Ohhhhhhh, s-she's treating me f-fine," Donna managed to get out. Renee harrumphed, still not looking in the blonde's direction as she walked about in the kitchen. "Well that's kind of you to say, Miss Buckley, but it's obvious you're simply covering for my girl. My daughter doesn't deserve such a good friend. The last thing she needs is to be covered, am I right or am I right?"

Donna clenched her lips, her face going red with pleasure at the cunt-licking she was receiving and the unintended double-meanings of Renee's words. "I quite agree ... your daughter shouldn't be covered by anything, not at all, uncovered, ohhh yes ...." Donna ran her pantyhosed soles over the barista's bare ass cheeks as she experienced a small orgasm on the girl's energetic tongue. Renee chuckled, apparently blissfully unaware of the effect her words were having on the buxom blonde. "At least my daughter's made friends with someone who has good taste! I'm sure she would agree that that's the case."

"Oh, I do..." the barista whispered up from between Donna's thighs, her smiling face coated in thick cunt-goo. The older woman nearly went mad with lust at the sight, and it was all she could do to not pull all her clothes off then and there. "You taste so good..."

"Well I hate to leave you here all alone but I have to run some errands," Renee said, grabbing her purse. "I'm sure my girl will be with you shortly, do help yourself to some creamy ladyfingers - I swear, I can't get enough lady's fingers, oops - I mean, ladyfingers in me, can you? - and there's coffee as well in the meantime." Adjusting her blouse after finishing applying her pink lipstick, Renee gave another dark look at the staircase. "I don't care how old she is - when I get home, she's going to receive a bare-bottomed thrashing from me and her auntie for keeping you waiting so long, I promise you! With vaginal torture as well!" Donna just nodded, not trusting herself to be able to do anything but moan loudly in pleasure if she opened her mouth, her face a twisted sweating mask. Renee grabbed her keys and squinted at the blonde just as she was half out the door. "Are you feeling alright, dear?" she asked. "You look a bit ill - best see someone about that." Donna nodded rapidly again, a second much-larger orgasm beginning at that moment, and waved goodbye to the woman, who closed the door just as the blonde could not hold back her scream of delight-

"FUUUUCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!" she shrieked, gripping the barista's head tightly as she rode the huge waves of her orgasm on the girl's gooey tongue, her legs splayed and head thrown back. Crawling out from under the table, the younger girl got on top of it, her bare bum in front of Donna's face, her shithole winking with the promise of fat, dirty brown turds within. The blonde was dying to stick her tongue inside it. However, before Donna could make a move, the front door opened and in walked the girl's mother, Renee.

"I forgot my ca- goodness me!!! There you are, you wicked girl!" Renee dropped her things and stepped over to the table, hands on her hips. "Do you realize you've kept your very nice guest waiting here for goodness knows how long while you were dilly-dallying elsewhere? No doubt diddling your cunt to that disgusting stash of pornography that you think I don't know about. It's disgraceful, abandoning a guest - I didn't raise you that way. And now you return to her with no clothes on!" Renee spread her arms in amazement. "Well perhaps it's just as well - I've already informed Miss Buckley that I intended to thrash your bare bottom with your auntie's help later on, but seeing as you're already undressed and Miss Buckley is the one you've wronged, I see no reason for her and I to not thrash you here and now! I trust you'll help me beat some manners into this rude daughter of mine, Miss Buckley?" she asked, turning to the older blonde woman. Donna nodded slowly, noticing that her young lover didn't seem particularly upset at the idea.

"Good," Renee said, locking the door. "Violence is all that the little tart understands, and I've always taught her that violence is the only solution to any problem." The comely mother began to strip her clothes off, and upon noticing Donna's confusion, said, "I find clothing rather restrictive when beating her. By all means, make yourself nude as well, dear." Pulling her underwear off, she winked. "Besides which, I think it's more fun." Donna Buckley grinned and stripped faster than you could say "I'm horny". A moment later, the two women hauled the naked girl into the living room and threw her none too gently onto the floor. They stood over her, debating how to begin.

"Goodness," Renee said, noticing the other woman's sex in the corner of her eye and turning to Donna. "Pardon my saying so but you've got quite a large clitoris, dear. And it looks so stiff and thick and juicy, peeking out from your hairy folds! May I?" Donna nodded, and Renee ran her fingers through the blonde's pubis, deliberately trying to stimulate Donna's fat clit even more by stroking it between her fingers. She succeeded in her efforts admirably, as Donna's clitoris swelled to penile proportions and dribbled pre-cum from the slit at its tip. Renee felt her own stiff clitoris swell similarly, of its own accord, and frigged it lewdly whilst still fondling Donna's. "It's thick like a man's penis," Renee hissed with glee, stroking Donna's 6 inch hard-on with her fist superbly, "...it's even oozing sperm-laden cum, how nasty and hot! No doubt you planned to knock up my daughter with this throbbing rod of yours, eh?" The blonde closed her eyes in bliss and when she opened them a moment later, was surprised to see that the barista was sucking on her mother's clitoris, nursing on it as though it were a teat.

"Yessss, suck me you vile lezzie bitch!" Renee hissed at her own daughter, grabbing the girl's head by the hair and pushing it harder against her swollen member. The girl gagged on its girth but happily obeyed, her choke-slobber coating her mother's crotch copiously.

Renee, panting with desire, pointed to the corner. "G-grab the whip, Miss B-Buckley ... whip the little queer till she bleeds." The young barista turned her head and nodded at the blonde. "Do it," she whispered seductively, before her mother roughly grabbed her head and forced the girl's mouth once more upon her thick stiff clitoris.

Donna found the cruel black leather cat'o'nine-tails whip hanging on the wall in the corner. Picking it up, she was surprised at how light it felt. She also noticed that pieces of jagged broken glass, sharp stones and metal detrius had been fastened to the ends of the tails. Turning around, she hesitated for a moment, but the sight before her increased her horniness exponentially. She felt her lust explode. Gripping the handle with both hands she ran towards her young lover, her arms above her head, and brought the nine-tailed lash down with all her might, striking hard. THHWAAASHH~!! "Fucking homo slut! Suckling on your own mother's sex as though it were a lolly - you're sick!" Donna shouted, whipping the girl's backside harder. CRA-AACKK~!!!!

"AAAAaaggggggghhhh~!!!"

The barista screamed, muffled by her mother's hairy cunt; bleeding stripes already appearing on her bare bum where the whip had left its hot kiss. "Again!" Renee shouted with a laugh. "Show the insolent tart no mercy!" Donna obeyed, her hesitation gone: gleefully bringing the evil whip cracking down again, and again, and again, on the girl's bum till it was a mass of blood-soaked stripes, cutting deeper into the quivering flesh with each stroke. Within minutes the girl began to beg through her sobs for the blonde to stop, cringing and no longer obediently holding still for the lash, but Donna just let the whip fall where it may, whipping the barista's youthful body and face even. She began to lose track of the time as she engaged in the horny torture of her lezzie lover. Some of the sadistic bits tied to the ends of the tails caught and tore at the girl's flesh, leaving bloody wounds. Donna's fat penile clitoris throbbed at full stiffness, oozing gooey seed onto the floor, and she laughed aloud as she thought of what she would've missed out on had she not taken the day off work...

"Alright, let's take a break, Miss Buckley," Renee said, appearing from down the hall. Donna had been so pre-occupied with the thrashing, she hadn't even noticed the girl's mother step back about ten minutes earlier to watch. Panting from exertion, Donna threw the bloodied whip aside and plopped down on the loveseat. Stroking her stiff clitoris and smearing its leaking precum all over its length as she watched the barista struggle to her feet, the blonde beauty happily accepted the offer of a cigarette from Renee, who had already lit one for herself and was also wanking off to the sight of her thoroughly punished daughter. The barista was smiling though, so she couldn't have been hurt very seriously, Donna thought with relief. Just as well - I want to have lots more fun with this sexy sweetie in future.

"Be a dear and make some coffee for us," Renee asked of her daughter as though nothing untoward had happened, pulling in a luxuriant lungful of sexy cigarette smoke from her cigarette and exhaling it several seconds later from her lips and nose. "You know how your guest takes hers. Then you may join us for a cigarette if you like." The barista nodded and re-appeared a few minutes later with a small tray on which sat three cups of coffee. Handing the green cup to Donna, the girl and Renee each took a white cup and exchanged a look. Donna didn't notice the look, however, as she took her first sip.

"So everything went well with the camcorder, Mum?" the girl asked slyly, lighting a cigarette and wincing as she sat down gingerly.

"Oh yes, after you showed me how to work it earlier, I found it remarkably easy," Renee said airily, taking another drag from her cigarette followed by a sip of coffee while Donna looked on with some slight confusion. Camcorder? she wondered. Were they videotaping that? She would've thought about it more, but the older blonde suddenly felt a strange, inexplicable, overwhelming desire to take another gulp of her coffee, and another, and another...gulp, gulp, gulp...within seconds she had drank the entire cup's contents. Wiping her lips, she chuckled. "Goodness me, for some reason I suddenly felt so thirsty," she said with a small blush as she burped.

"Oh you needn't worry," Renee said cheerfully, waving toward's the blonde's empty cup. "That's just the illegal drugs that my daughter put into your cup to make sure you drank it all." Donna's brow furrowed in confusion, shock and then fear as Renee mussed her daughter's hair in approval. "Isn't that right sweetie?"

"Yes Mum," the barista said, and her smile frightened Donna.

"D-drugs?"

"Yes," the barista answered, taking a sip of her own undrugged coffee, smiling sweetly. "One to make sure you drank it all, and another powerful fast-acting tranquilizer that is actually quite unsafe for human consumption in even tiny doses, and I gave you a whopping huge one. Not that it'll matter where you're going." Turning to her mother, the girl said, "As soon as the cunt-meat is out, I'll call Amanda to pick her up for delivery - they're expecting her." Donna's eyes widened in panic - what have I gotten myself into here? they're talking about me like I'm meat?! - but as she attempted to rise to her feet, her knees buckled. The drugs were already taking effect. Oh noooo... she thought fuzzily as she fell to the floor, her vision swimming, sound distorting into a fading blur.

And then everything went black for Donna Buckley.

***

Donna awoke in a dark room. Struggling to get her bearings, she attempted to stand but quickly realized she was chained to the floor. A miasma of disgusting odours hit her nose like a punch; Donna thought she would vomit, the smells were so thick and awful. Opening her eyes slowly, she realized she could barely see in what dim light managed to find its way in the awful room. But then she was still shaking off the after-effects of the drugs. Those bitches, she thought as her memory returned, they fucking drugged me. But why? Where have they taken me? Looking to her right, the blonde was surprised to see a sleeping naked 5 year old girl, also chained to the floor, who appeared to be Asian. The girl was filthy and and looked as though she'd been here for some time.

"H-hey," Donna croaked, her throat dry. "Hey, you ..." Her voice was beginning to return to normal, nevertheless she spoke in a loud whisper. "Honey, are you OK? Where are we...do you know? Do you speak English?"

Opening her eyes at the sound of the older woman's voice, the Chinese girl stared at her silently without moving. Donna kept trying to communicate with her, without apparent success. "Come on, sweetie...I won't hurt you. Please, talk to me...what are we doing here? Where is this place?" The girl just stared, neither smiling nor frowning, and the silence grew eerie. Unnerved enough by the situation and her lack of understanding regarding it, Donna tested the strength of her chains. It was an exercise in futility. Each link in the chain looked so thick and heavy, they must've weighed 5 pounds each, minimum. Sighing, the blonde woman considered her options. "This is crazy...there has to be a reason," she muttered into her hands. "What are we doing here..."

"You're food."

The chilling statement had come from the Chinese girl. Donna turned her head slowly to behold the child's soft, staring eyes. She couldn't believe what she'd just heard. "What? What did you say?"

The child spoke quietly in a small voice, without malice, but with a haunted sureness that was unmistakeable. "You're food," she repeated. "Mummy and the ladies ... they're going to make you their food." The child turned her gaze to a dark corner of the room, and Donna's eyes followed. It took a moment for her vision to adjust to the darkness...and then she saw, and began screaming in terror...

Hanging on a hook in the corner was the rotting body of her neighbourhood's 10 year old paper-delivery girl, Denise Welke. The child had been missing for over a week. Donna had seen her picture on the news and recognized it. It was the 10 year old's decomposing corpse that was a large contributor to the awful smell in the room. Donna screamed and screamed, shaking and struggling in vain, now utterly terrified and realizing she was in the hands of psychopathic murderers. At that moment, a neon sign lit up on the wall directly facing her. It read: "NO ESCAPE / ENJOY YOUR STAY." As the dead little girl's rotting maggot-ridden features grew even clearer in the light of the taunting sign, Donna couldn't hold back any longer; her gorge rose and she vomited profusely on the floor, mad with fear and horror...

***

Part Four

"So did Dr. Winters make you feel all better, dear?" Jennifer Meadows asked of her seven year old daughter Summer. Summer nodded happily while drinking from a can of soda. Jennifer had noticed that since the treatment earlier that morning, the occasional twitch in Summer's eye had not disappeared. I'll have to be careful with her in future, she thought. The brain-damage from those drug-filled candies is cumulative, after all, and the permanence seems to be increasing.

Arriving home, they hopped out of the car and went inside. The blonde mother decided to test her raven-haired daughter on the spot. "Now what would you like to do, Summer?"

Summer dropped her can of soda, letting its contents spill onto the carpet and reached for the button and zipper on her mother's jeans. "I wanna eat your dirty cunt , Mummy!"

Jennifer made no attempt to stop the child from removing her pants, and grinned, running her fingers through the girl's waist-length tresses. Fuck but they are good at that place, she thought with an inner chuckle. They've turned my sweet little child into my own personal filth whore... Jennifer approved of Summer letting the soda soak the carpet too. "Good girl, dear," she murmured, as Summer feverishly worked at pulling off Jennifer's jeans, "from now on you'll throw food, drink and rubbish onto the floor just like a real filth-tart, ok?" "Yes Mummy," the girl said, her eye twitching as Jennifer stepped out of the jeans. Grabbing her mother's hips, the little girl breathed in the foul odour of Jennifer's unclean hairy cunt (which still had two turds inside it from last night which had been marinating in her dirty mense, all of which was further complimented by the large number of oozing sores and genital warts on and around her labia) and retched thrice, but did not move away. "My nubby feels good from the awful smell, Mummy," the girl moaned, squeezing her tiny thighs together.

"Mmmm, very good sweetie," Jennifer groaned, tickling her cunt on Summer's young face before lifting her chin. "OK now dear," she said with a smile, "be a good girl and go light a cigarette for each of us, ok? Get them from the jar with a big C on it." That was the jar in which Jennifer kept cigarettes laced with cocaine. They'd had a busy day, after all, and with the fancy dinner this evening only two hours away, they would need the energy.

Summer obeyed her mother's command happily, and returned a moment later with two lit cigarettes. As the mother and daughter puffed, inhaled deeply, and exhaled, over and over, Summer became more excited. "Who needs a fucking cookie jar?" she half-shouted with a giggle, unable to keep still, cocaine racing through her veins on the back of the nicotine. "We've got a cigarette jar! I like smoking lots more than cookies, Mummy." Jennifer laughed, mildly frigging herself as she watched her seven year old daughter get high. "Well, that's very sweet of you to say, Summer...but I'd bet good money that you wouldn't object to having cigarettes and cookies." Summer just giggled and kept smoking, holding the poisonous clouds deep in her little chest before blowing them out in attempted patterns. Her eyes bulged as she took a double-drag.

Pulling the special invitation card that she'd received in the post the day before out of her purse, Jennifer read it once more, exhaling drug-laced smoke. It read as follows:

§§

You are cordially invited to attend the premiere evening dinner of Chéz Cherie , a new, very select restaurant that caters exclusively to all those ladies and girls that enjoy the finer things in life. Our pricing structure allows any female, regardless of their financial situation, to afford continued visits to our fine establishment. Our prices simply must be seen to be believed! And of course, as you will see, our menu is nothing less than a cuisine connoisseur's  dreams come true. We look forward to providing you with a memorable six-star dining experience. Premiere festivities will begin at 5:30pm, tomorrow evening. Please dress formally for this occasion (except when notified, dress codes for patrons will not be required and everyday casual clothing will be more than acceptable). Sincerely, Miss Lauren A. Smellings.

§§  

I wonder what will be on the menu? Jennifer thought to herself, smelling the lilac perfume the invitation card was scented with. No doubt something exquisite, delicious and juicy...I do hope Ellen will be able to attend as well, it's been ages since she spent some time with Summer. Ellen was Jennifer's friend from work, who had known about the mysterious restaurant's females-only rules since when the building was being constructed. Ellen has also confided in her that she and the French chef at the new restaurant (Amanda) had been lesbian lovers five years earlier during her summer trip to Europe, and had kept in touch ever since. Surely Ellen had received an invite to the opening too, then.

Oh shit, what time is it? Looking up at the wall clock, Jennifer saw that it was later than she had thought. "Oh my word - come on Summer," she said, getting up and grabbing the girl's hand. "We've got less than two hours to get ready for the big premiere dinner tonight at that new restaurant!" "Goodie!" Summer shouted, racing up the stairs alongside her mother. "I'm gonna solve the mystery of why it's only for girls, too. You wait an' see, Mummy, I will!" Jennifer's soft dirty wrinkly bare feet with hard cracked heels and pungent stink scrunched with delight as she let her daughter race up the stairs ahead of her, the child's bare seven-year old bottom an instant cunt-wettening sight for the young nude blonde mother. Pushing two fingers into her disgusting birthing-hole, she pulled them out, smelled their rank odour and sucked them clean, thinking of how very soon Summer's cunt would be just as nasty, genital warts, sores and all. Life didn't get much better than this!

***

Part Five

Each and every guest was welcomed at the door by none other than the restaurant's owner and hostess, Lauren Smellings, who looked stunning in a completely see-through gown of Chinese silk. She french-kissed and felt up the cunts of every guest through their clothing by way of greeting, before checking their invitation cards and seeing that a waitress directed them to their tables. The line was fairly long when Jennifer and Summer arrived, but they were both greeted no less warmly when they reached the front of the line and saw Lauren's hot body. The beautiful hostess even accomodated the tiny child's giggled request at the door, lifting the hem of her gown so that Summer could give Lauren's foul bushy cunt a quick, eager taste. Those in line behind the mother and daughter whistled in appreciation, growing wet at the sight.

Inside, the dining room was both huge and exquisitely ornate in its furnishings and decorations. Upon entering, Jennifer had no doubt that this place was, contrary to her earlier conversation with Summer, truly fit for the Queen herself. Golden cutlery was placed on every table; a massive grand piano stood off to the right of the dais where there would undoubtedly be a speech or two given on this opening-night occasion. The carpeting was rich and thick, blood-red in colour. Mahogany walls with curlicues and elaborate carvings reflected the warm light of a merrily blazing fireplace in a semi-private smoking room (which was really just a cozier area for after-dinner coffees and cigarettes, adorned with soft couches and fancy padded chairs; smoking was allowed in all areas of Chéz Cherie).

A nude tour guide led the women around, pointing out various aspects of the luxurious decor and sharing interesting stories of their origins. "This carpet," the young woman said, "was dyed with the actual blood of more than 300 lesbian women, who sacrificed their lives in a suicide-pact just for its creation. Oh, and over here we have..."

Before long, everyone that had been invited was inside. Locking the front door, Lauren called for everyone to have a seat in the dining room while she made a brief speech. A number of women lit cigarettes as they waited for the beaming hostess to begin. As soon as the room was relatively quiet, she did.

"I want to thank you all for joining us here at Chéz Cherie on this very special occasion, when we first open our doors," Lauren said. "Frankly I am thrilled at the turnout. Opening this restaurant has been a long-held dream of mine, and it is our privilege to see that dream fulfilled with you all. Six-star dining...accomodation for all female diners and only female diners...satisfaction guaranteed. These are not just words to us; they are the reality we will strive to create here for you, always. A great many people helped to make this unique restaurant possible, and I'd like to thank a few of them now. Please give a hand to our head chef, Amanda, who came from France with her female staff to work here and in so doing left the French President's kitchen scrambling to find replacements." The ladies politely applauded, and the blushing beautiful red-haired chef smiled and blew a kiss to the crowd from the kitchen doors where she stood to listen. Lauren grinned.

"And I'd be remiss if I failed to mention that tonight's grand-opening festivities are being sponsored in part by the UK branch of P.A.M. - Parents Against Morality, a female-only group consisting of millions of mothers across the world that have dedicated themselves to raising the most immoral generation yet, one that lies, steals, cheats, kills, hates, and overindulges." The women clapped politely at this, many of them already active PAM members.

"Now I'm sure you're all wondering what's on tonight's menu," Lauren continued with a dazzling smile. "You were all selected for invitation to this evening's opening dinner because we took the time to do our research. We knew that you were not the sort of women who would be offended by the unique qualities of Chéz Cherie, where we serve the finest in lady-flesh to you ladies the customers. Yes - cannibalism, sisters...such is the heart of our menu, no pun intended." A few of the women looked shocked - but many were smiling, expressions of gleeful delight and surprise on their faces. All of them clapped politely again, and a few even cheered, Jennifer amongst them. Cannibalism! she thought with excitement. I always assumed I'd have to take Summer to another country to experience that staple of perversion. This is fucking great! After a moment, Lauren raised her hand and the applause settled. She continued.

"We believe here at Chéz Cherie that there is no finer meal for a woman to consume than another woman, literally. As you'll see in the menus - there is a photographic section in them as well, in full colour - our prices are very reasonable. Anyone who can't afford to pay their cheque will simply become dinner for some other lucky females. And anyone tempted to squeal to the authorities about us...well, apart from the fact that we have a huge number of said authorities in our pockets as valued supporters-" - she gestured to the local police chief sitting at a nearby table as just one example of thousands, a butchy-looking woman who was unbelievably corrupt - "-you can imagine we're quite skilled at handling squealers. We murder them. Nor do we exclude you from participating in that enjoyable task - in fact I'm confident you'll find that killing your dinner is half the fun of dining at Chéz Cherie. You're sure to get a very entertaining and bloody show along with your meal, every time. You can't imagine how fun it is, for example, to bite raw chunks of a woman's face off while she's still alive - tasty too!"

The ladies laughed, clapping once more. The two or three women who had appeared shocked at the revealing news about the restaurant looked around, eyes darting nervously; they had all noticed that heavily-armed beauties had assumed positions at every exit.

"So, help yourselves to a glass of piss from one of our many lovely waitresses," Lauren concluded, "mingle about, enjoy some appetizers, and peruse tonight's menu as well. Ordinarily our pricing structure ensures that everyone is satisfied while allowing for the fact that certain...choice cuts...are only available in limited quantities. But tonight the cost per plate is the same for all, as we'll be having a buffet. Thank you again, and welcome." Signaling to the talented pianist, Lauren stepped down from the dais as the sound of soft jazz piano began to tinkle through the main dining room. More than two dozen waitresses, wearing nothing but crisp white server blouses, squatted atop a long sturdy table next to another table that had several trays of empty champagne flutes on it, their bare hairy cunts and asses facing lewdly towards the invitees. Quite a few women grabbed an empty flute and were instructed to place it under the cunt of a waitress, who would then piss her hot amber urine into it till it was suitably full. Jennifer Meadows led her excited daughter Summer by the hand to the table and they each selected a glass. Pointing at the waitress who's urine she wanted to drink, Summer and her mother walked over to the adjoining table. Holding her little girl up so that she could reach, Jennifer felt her cunt melt with gooey warmth as the grown waitress woman looked back with a smile, positioned herself properly, spread her hairy cunt lips and pissed into the child's flute till it was nearly full. "Enjoy it honey," the waitress had said with a grin. Summer said thank-you and eagerly took a sip of the disgusting amber waste-fluid, making a face at the taste but smiling anyway and continuing to drink more.

"I like drinking grownup ladies' pee-pee, Mummy," she giggled, rubbing her child-cunt through the material of her fancy gown. "The taste makes me want to be sick, but that makes my nubby feel good!" "Before long you'll adore the taste of it, my sweetiepie," Jennifer said with a grin, taking a sip from her own flute. Mother and daughter both looked stunning. They'd worn their very best dresses and Jennifer had had just enough time to squeeze them both into the best salon in town for a quick do-up by Pierre, the chief stylist, before arriving at the restaurant, thanks to her bribing the stylist into giving them another woman's appointment time. Summer's bum-length black tresses looked stunning in the fancy curls Pierre had given her, and Jennifer's own blond mane was arranged elaborately also.

There was a large platter of crackers and paté that had caught the attention of some of the women, particularly for the pungent smell coming from the latter. One woman (who had approached the platter eagerly) violently retched from the smell and almost threw up on it. "The paté is made from the liver of a dead little girl that we kidnapped and murdered. Denise Welke, 10 years of age," Lauren explained, pointing to the photograph of the once-beautiful girl that the news had been showing, of which Lauren had made a large, glossy print and placed in a frame for all to see whilst they nibbled the dead girl's guts on a cracker or two. "Her body's been rotting for a week straight without refrigeration. There's also her brains and chunks of maggot-ridden soft tissue too besides the paté," she pointed out. "Do feel free to enjoy. Our lezzie police chief can't wait to massacre the girl's weepy mother and aunt here next week." Noticing the greenish cast of the nearest woman's face, she added, "It is a rather pungent stench, yes? Puke on the platter if you want, dear. All of you-" - she spoke a little more loudly, to address the crowd - "-if you feel yourself about to vomit, by all means, puke anywhere and on anything you want. The carpet, the table, a waitress, someone elses' meal - anywhere. As you may have guessed, things are bound to get messy in here anyway. I doubt anyone here will object." Smiling gratefully at the hostess through the queasiness that the strong odour of rotting flesh was causing in her, the woman took Lauren at her word, grabbing the table for support and barfing a thick creamy splatter of bile right onto the crackers. Two of her companions joined her, intentionally making themselves sick with their fingers, and their puke shortly thereafter adorned the appetizers' table as well. The barf-covered crackers and child guts were eagerly snapped up by the ladies, including sweet little Summer. Jennifer was proud that her young daughter managed to keep down all of the waitress's piss, even after consuming several crackers with vomit, brains and maggot-ridden paté on them.

The same waitress happened to pass by shortly thereafter, and asked Summer if she would like a fresh flute-full of piss. "Yes please!" Summer had replied, holding the glass steady as best she could. Pissing her amber-gold urine in it to the brim once more, the waitress turned and gave Summer a kiss on the lips, leaving a lipstick print on the child. "You're such a cutie, I hope you're having a lovely time!" she said, squatting on her haunches to see the young girl face-to-face. Summer nodded, drinking the lady's pee slowly to make it last. Grinning at Jennifer (who was across the room), the waitress spoke to Summer once more, saying, "Very good dear. I tell you what - later on when it's dinner time, you and your mummy keep an eye out for me, ok? And I'll help you to kill the really bad lady that you're going to eat for dinner!"

"We're going to kill a lady?" Summer asked, eyes wide with surprise.

The waitress smiled. "Yes dear, but don't worry - she's a very, very bad lady. Part of my job as a waitress here is to tell you and your mummy and everyone at your table about all the bad things this lady has done, and why she needs to die and get eaten by you. And be honest now...killing a grownup lady and eating her without getting into any trouble whatsoever sounds pretty exciting, doesn't it?"

Summer blushed as little girls are wont to do, gave a cute little smile and took another gulp of bitter urine from her flute. "Yeah," she said, excited that everyone around her was encouraging such evil behaviour. "I already ate some of that stupid girl on the table, but I didn't know we would get to make people die - I thought the cooks would get to do it...I like hurting people, but I never got to kill anyone before. It sounds like fun! Like...fucking fun!" she said, still thrilled at being allowed to swear. "Well that's because it is fucking fun, dear!" the waitress laughed, squeezing Summer's forearms affectionately. "I'll help you make the stupid cunt suffer later ok?" "OK!" the child replied happily, reaching forward for another kiss. The waitress gave it to her, pushing her wet tongue into little Summer's mouth, who returned the french kiss with fervour. Breaking the kiss after a moment, the older woman winked and said, "Mmmm, I can't wait to have you eat out my wet hairy cunt, dear. I've got to attend to the others here for a while now. Let me show you the table where you'll be sitting at, OK?"

Showing Summer where she and Jennifer had been assigned to sit, the waitress picked up a cigarette from the complimentary box on the table, lit it, and placed it between the seven year old's lips with a grin, before leaving her there for the time being. Summer stood, watching the other women mingling in the room and felt very grown-up in her fancy gown, makeup, beautiful raven-curls hairstyle and champagne flute full of lady piss, smoking on her lit cigarette. She inhaled as deeply as she could, held it, and released the deadly smoke in a successful ring-pattern a short moment later. Two women (none other than Ginger Kent and Angela Winters, the notorious lesbian couple) noticed the girl's smoking trick with admiration and pointed at her from a nearby table, chuckling to each other. They both waved and blew a smoky exhale towards the girl when she flashed them a smile each, and she proudly repeated her trick for them.

Real alcoholic champagne from France was being served now, along with ever-more fresh piss from even more waitresses with bursting bladders. Most women elected to have a glass of each. Running to get a drink for Angela Winters, Summer bumped into the backside of none other than her Sunday school teacher, Miss Lana Welsh. "Miss Welsh!" the child said excitedly. "Hi!" The woman turned around and a startled smile of surprise appeared on her face.

"Summer Meadows! Why what on earth are you doing here in this perverse, evil place? Did your mother bring you here? Ooo, how simply wicked," she said lustfully as Summer nodded. "And smoking cigarettes like a real grown-up you are, my goodness - you're getting to be quite the big girl aren't you? Well then...what would you like to drink dear?" "I already have some piss to drink, but I came to get some champagne for that lady," Summer said, pointing at Angela. Lana smirked and said, "That's a good choice for a sweet little cunt like you, lady piss is yummy, isn't it? And how thoughtful of you to offer to stand in line for someone else. Two champagnes, please," she directed to the server, having reached the front of the line.

Handing the first champagne to Summer, Miss Welsh took ahold of her own drink and slugged back half of it. Lana noticed that several women were having sex with each other in various spots around the room. Feeling looser already from the drink (Lana was an alcoholic, as well as a lesbian pervert), she lifted her dress and turned her backside to Summer, revealing that the young religious instructor wasn't wearing any panties on her bare ass. "Have you ever put your tongue inside a woman's fucking shit-hole before, Summer?" she asked. Summer shook her head. "No, but my Mummy asked me to before. I didn't want to then, but now I do!" She set Angela's drink down next to her piss flute. Reaching forward to hold Miss Welsh's bare cheeks apart, Summer eyed the dark-brown poo hole between them with anticipation. "Is there poo - I mean, shit, in your hole, Miss Welsh?"

Lana grunted and pushed. "There sure fucking is, Summer," she replied through clenched teeth. "Open wide now for teacher's dirty poo poo...here...it...comes..." Summer pressed her face into the older woman's bumcrack as Lana shat out a few inches of a thick brown ladyturd into the young girl's mouth. Pinching off the feces with her anus, Lana turned around and instructed the girl to hold still so as not to muss the makeup on either of them. Delicately, she french-kissed Summer's tiny mouth, using their spit to melt and liquify the nasty-tasting feces within until both their tongues were coated in brown filth. She took the opportunity to molest the seven year old's cunt during the kiss, reaching underneath Summer's dress and feeling the girl's wet hairless slit grow juicier on her fingers as they snogged.

Grabbing their drinks (Lana convinced the girl to try some of the fancy imported alcohol), they finished them off to wash down the disgusting slop with. Summer coughed a bit on the champagne bubbles, but didn't object. Pulling a handkerchief from her purse, Lana dabbed the edges of Summer's mouth. "There," she said cheerfully, "my little shiteating student-slut looks as pretty as ever! How did that taste then?" Summer licked her lips and looked thoughtful. "It tastes...well, just like it smells...lots yuckier than piss. But my nubby likes things that are dirty. Can I tell my Mummy that I ate your shit?" Lana laughed. "Sure you can, go on then - I had no idea you two were so nasty, what a delightful surprise - I'll have to come by for a visit sometime! Oh and don't forget the drink for your ladyfriend over there, I'd better get you a fresh one. Mind your piss-drink, Summer, or someone will snatch it." she added. Nodding and grabbing her flute of waitress piss, Summer waited as Lana got back in line and returned a moment later with a champagne for Angela. "Thanks Miss Welsh," Summer said, flashing a beautiful smile at the woman. "This really sexy waitress peed for me from her bare cunt right in front of me" - she paused to take a sip of pee - "mmmmmm, the yucky taste makes my nubby feel super! An' she said she's gonna help me hurt and fucking kill this really bad lady later too, and I..."

Lana giggled, already working on her second champagne, electing to interrupt the girl. "You are just a little chatterbox, aren't you? I could talk to you all night honey...but you'd best run along now, your ladyfriend will wonder where you've gotten off to." Summer nodded. "Yeah, I don't want her to think I forgot her." "I'll see you in a while OK?" Lana said, pinching the girl's cheek. "OK!" Summer said, already scampering back to Angela's table, another mouthful of the waitress's bitter urine swallowed by the child as she stepped carefully (so as not to spill the contents of Angela's glass). Arriving at Ginger & Angela's side, she proudly bragged about how she had just eaten Miss Welsh's nasty shit from her bumhole, to the ladies' delight. All three had another cigarette each while the lesbian couple pulled their bare tits out to show to Summer after she asked to see them. Both women reveled in the squeezing and suckling that Summer gave to their bare bosoms as they smoked and chatted. The girl had no tits of her own as of yet, and so found their large breasts fascinating.

None of them noticed the brief commotion at the far end of the room by one of the doors. Two armed beauties swung their arms back and viciously smashed their heavy batons into the head of one woman, knocking her to the floor. [She was one of the very few invitees who had "failed to get into the spirit of things" (as Lauren would've put it), and the only one who had tried to leave. There were bound to be a rare few who objected to the true nature of Chéz Cherie upon learning of it, but true to Lauren's word, her staff were more than prepared to handle such.] Hitting her in the head over and over as hard as they could till well after she was bloodied and unconscious, the lovely guards stepped back in place, softly reporting the incident over their comm devices. Two of the kitchen staff came out a moment later, grabbed the foolish woman by the ankles, and pulled her unconscious form into the prep area. The entire incident was over within a matter of seconds, and had gone virtually unnoticed by the assembled guests.

Meanwhile, many of the guests were taking advantage of the complimentary illegal drugs now being put out on the tables. Both Jennifer and Summer snorted several lines of high-grade cocaine; Ginger and Angela chose to shoot up some heroin. Ladies swallowed pills packed with speed, and the music picked up the pace. Conversations grew more raucous, as did the sexual activity in the room.

Summer was giggling at a racist joke that Ginger had just told when the waitress who had peed for her earlier came up. "It's time for dinner, ladies," she announced with a grin. "Go find your seat, I'll be right out with the stupid bitch we're going to torture and kill, OK? I think you may know her in fact!" The seven year old girl nodded, and giving a goodbye kiss to the lesbian couple, rushed back to her assigned chair. I wonder who it is? she thought excitedly.

Within minutes, the word had passed through the crowd and everyone had found their assigned table. The ladies smoked, laughed, drank and talked, waiting for the various cuntmeat-victims to appear. A moment later, the kitchen doors opened and the waitress Summer had spoken with wheeled out one Donna Buckley, completely nude and firmly fastened in place. Donna's bare feet rested on a wooden platform, her calves, wrists and neck tied with excessive tightness to a metal pole behind her. A thick wooden board that was attached to the middle of the pole lay just under her fat bare breasts, lifting the sagging weight of her bosoms to rest upon its surface. Wheels that had been attached to the platform allowed for easy wheeling of the cuntmeat to the table where the Meadows' ladies sat with a half dozen other women diners. Other victims were being brought out to the other tables in the elaborate dining room as well, in various forms of restraint. Donna's face and hair had been beautifully done up by the makeup artists and stylists in the employ of Chéz Cherie (to make her as pretty as could be before she was slaughtered and served), though it was evident that she'd been crying. A bright red ball-gag served to shut her up, nestled between the O of her lipsticked lips. Summer's eyes widened in recognition as Donna's bound form reached their table.

"Mummy, that's Miss Buckley! She babysits me!" Summer squealed, pointing at Donna as though Jennifer couldn't see the terrified blonde only two feet away. Donna's own eyes widened as she recognized the elegantly dressed precocious little girl (and her mother) whom she'd been friends with for years. The gag prevented her from speaking out though.

"That's right, dear," the waitress said proudly, consulting the evening's menu for more complete information on the cunt. "A Miss...Donna Buckley, to be precise. A well-known town whore who's days have come to an end. Ladies, this is the first stupid fucking bitch that you will have the pleasure of torturing, killing and eating this evening." Donna's eyes bulged in disbelief as she saw everyone at the table clap merrily at this chilling announcement, including little Summer.

"You'll have to find a new babysitter, I'm afraid," the waitress said with an exaggerated wink to Jennifer, and the ladies giggled. "Now allow me to tell you a little bit about what a bad, evil lady Donna is. I assure you, she deserves everything she's going to get. Did you know that this fucking bitch subscribes to anti-lesbian hate literature through the mail? She pays money to groups that are against you...and you...and you...to groups that are against all of us." The women gasped, and several gave a murderous look towards Donna, who had begun to involuntarily pee herself with terror, groaning in vain through the red ball-gag. I can explain that though, oh please let me go- she thought. Her hairy cunt sprayed urine, which pooled on the platform around her bare soles, to the diners' amusement. Summer even managed to reach forward and collect some of the blonde's piss in her still half-full flute, taking a large sip while Jennifer looked on proudly.

"Yes," the waitress continued, "and if that wasn't bad enough, this hatemonger Donna is a two-faced hypocrite! Why just yesterday this hateful slut viciously raped and whipped a young barista from a local coffee shop. The barista had never even met Donna before, and yet Donna broke into the girls' home, forced herself upon her, and then whipped her till she was bloodied and nearly senseless! Just watch." A crystal-thin double-sided television screen rose in the middle of the table, allowing the women to watch the video footage of Donna whipping her barista lover the day before, provided courtesy of the barista and her double-crossing mother Renee. Naturally, the footage had been packaged with subliminal messages and edited so as to appear quite incriminating, not at all consensual. Donna felt her panic swell afresh as she watched the seated ladies nod their heads in acceptance of the "proof" on the screen. Looking towards little Summer, Donna tried to see some sympathy in the girl's eyes. Summer noticed and scowled at the older blonde darkly, her tiny gaze filled with burning hate.

"You see? The proof is before you. This big-titted whore is a very bad lady," the waitress said, winking at Summer, who blushed and giggled. Turning to face Donna, the waitress couldn't help but laugh. "Look at the whore, blubbering like a weepy little baby in her restraints! But that won't stop us from murdering her and eating her delicious flesh, will it? No, it certainly won't! It's hilarious, look how scared she is." The waitress leaned her head close to the ladies as she looked back at Donna, speaking in a loud mock-whisper. "Well, you can't really blame her for that - she ought to be jolly well motherfucking scared of us, am I right?" The ladies cheered "Yes!" and laughed at Donna's panicked face. "Well just ask us dear, and we'll let you go, you have 30 seconds!" the waitress taunted, knowing full well the task was impossible. For a minute they all amusedly observed their soon-to-be-dinner struggle and fail to speak through the gag. The waitress felt one of the women's fingers slide into her juicy twat.

"Well," she said, "perhaps it's for the best - we wouldn't have let you go anyway, haha! Goodness me, but I love this job. Ladies, I think perhaps your dinner would like the opportunity to waste her breath begging for her life now. I'm sure you'll find it good for a chuckle. So I'll just remove her gag - you can discuss the weather with her whilst I fetch the first of your torture implements." Pulling the gag out of Donna's now-sore mouth, the waitress left her there and went into the kitchen.

Unable to stop herself from trembling, Donna looked to the women who planned to murder & eat her and hoped against hope. "Please," she rasped, "please...don't hurt me. Untie me. Please! Jennifer... Jennifer, I've been your friend for years, how can you bring Summer to this horrible place? How can you sit there grinning at me? They're going to kill me!" Realizing she was getting nowhere with her former friend, she tried addressing Summer directly. "Summer honey, please...this is a very bad place, the worst possible kind. Your mummy is confused, she shouldn't have brought you here. I'm your friend... please, you need to run away and get me some help-"

"You don't get to tell me what to do, you stupid dinner-cunt!" Summer angrily picked up her golden fork and jammed its sharp tines as hard as she could into the older woman's fat, round breast. The woman shrieked in unbelievable agony as the fancy fork impaled her tit all the way through, hitting the wood it was resting on with a blood-wet thunk sound. Donna's eyes bugged out as she screamed, "My tit!!! You little fucking bitch! After all I've done for you, aaggghhhhggod iit hurtttts!"

"You're a bad lady!" Summer shouted, her little eyes full of hatred. "We're going to kill you and eat you, and we're gonna hurt you really bad first - you deserve it!" The little girl thought for a moment of what to do next. Pulling the golden fork out of Donna's fat bleeding right bosom, Summer frowned maliciously, swung her little arm back, and stabbed the dining utensil through Donna's other tit as well ( thunk! ) pinning the fat left breast to the wooden platform it rested on. "And that's for being so mean and swearing at me just now!" Summer shouted, her tiny frame quivering with hate-fueled adrenaline and cocaine. "Good girl!" Jennifer said, hugging her daughter as the other ladies at their table clapped and cheered. "I guess my little Summer wants to have some tit-meat - there's certainly plenty to go around on this slut! What's that? Yes yes yes Summer, you can have as much cocaine as you want, snort away. Here, I want a line too." A few of the women were rubbing their cunts openly while watching, plopping their feet on the table and spreading their legs. "The more she begs for help, the worse I'm gonna hurt her stupid cunt, Mummy," Summer said, tossing her head back and rubbing her powder-filled nostril. "This is fun! Hate is the answer!"

Donna Buckley could only weep in fear and pain; she knew that the little girl she had once lovingly babysat meant every word. How can Jennifer sit there with a smile on her face, openly encouraging her little Summer to become a sadist, murderer, drug abuser and cannibal all at once? she thought as she looked down in horror through blurred, teary eyes at the shining golden fork stuck through her bleeding left tit.

Jennifer stood up then and went over to her restrained former babysitter. "Call my daughter a fucking bitch, will you?!" she hissed. Reaching behind, she grabbed one of Donna's hands. Taking ahold of one of the middle fingers, Jennifer bent it back the wrong way at the middle, hard, until it snapped. "I'll break your fucking fingers, tart! You'll beg us to kill you before we're done! " she shouted in the blonde's ear, wiggling the broken finger cruelly as Donna screamed again.

"SHUT UP!" Summer shrieked, standing on the table and hitting her little fists against Donna's face (which had grown red from exertion and screaming). "You're nothing but food now - food doesn't get to talk, it gets to shut up so fucking SHUT UP!" She punched the woman's face repeatedly, the strength of the child's blows coming as a surprise to Donna as one landed square on her nose, breaking the cartilege inside and causing fresh bleeding from her nostrils. She broke my nose, oh my God, Donna thought to herself wretchedly, praying with every ounce of her soul for this to be only a bad dream because it was just too much for her mind to comprehend, this awful turn of events. Please dear God let me wake up from this nightmare...

Her prayers would not be answered, as another waitress came by and injected her with a pharmaceutical concoction designed to keep her unable to become desensitized to pain. She'd now register every painful sensation as freshly as the first, right to the bitter end. As the first waitress came back with a wide assortment of unimaginably evil implements of torture on a wheeled cart, Donna felt her sanity snap and leave her forever as one of the women seated to her left (across from Jennifer and Summer) grabbed her fork and steak knife, stuck the fork into Donna's lower abdomen through her pubic bush, then followed suit with the knife and started cutting out a piece of her to eat...while another woman burned Donna's nose to a crisp with a blowtorch...and Summer started biting off the blonde's big fat tit...and the waitress began to saw with insane glee into the top of Donna's skull with a big serrated knife...

Everywhere throughout the elaborate dining room, the screams of women slowly, horribly dying in agony at the hands of their fellow females rang out, music to the customer's ears. One pudgy zit-faced teenager who had sold her own loving, piously religious, widowed mother to Chéz Cherie on a whim grinned as she leaned forward and began biting raw chunks out of her mother's living face, tearing chunks off with her teeth and chewing the bloody flesh with her mouth open before the crazed woman's gaze (in order to further horrify her now-insane mother/victim). Her fellow diners at the table joined her, biting off the terrorized lady's nose, lips, cheeks and earlobes in a frenzy. Blood ran down their chins as they grinned and chewed, chatting amongst themselves about the taste. The evil teen girl's eyes glazed over as she swallowed and looked her mother right in the eye. "I'm going to murder our entire family in this place, Mum," she murmured whilst rubbing her sopping teen cunt, "including Auntie Jean and her beloved newborn baby girl. Just for the fucking fun of it..." Her mother could not properly answer, her tongue having been ripped out and eaten a moment before. She did try however, moaning and screaming incomprehensibly, tears streaming from her glistening eyes down what was left of her mutilated face.

Noticing the tears and reaching forward with her thumb and index finger, the teen smiled. "Ohh, I'm afraid there's no 'i' in cuntmeat Mum. Get it? 'I'...'eye'? What, you didn't find that funny? Oh you've never had a sense of humour anyway, so go fuck yourself you stupid old bitch!" With that, the teenager angrily pushed her freshly-manicured thumb and sharp index fingernail right through her mother's eyeball with a bursting wet squish and yanked the ruined orb out with glee, stuffing it into her cunt for their waitress to slurp out and swallow...

At yet another table, a 65 year old grandmother was choking, puking and shrieking in abject terror and the worst pain you could imagine as the waitress there helped the women diners hold and press the living victim's face against a large, very hot frying pan situated on a well-heated portable cooking element in the middle of the table. The smell of her sizzling, burning face was delicious as she shrieked louder and louder for her very life. A few of the women had fun smashing and poking the gran's feet soles, lower body, cunt and fat bum with red-hot iron braziers, which would send her jolting forward in agony sliding even more of her face along the hot surface of the frying pan. Everyone laughed and laughed at the woman's hideous screams and flailing twitching antics as her face was cooked alive mercilessly on the pan. They intended to stir-fry the plump bitch at that table...

Later on, the woman who had unsuccessfully tried to leave the premises was wheeled out, pointlessly shouting curses and threats at everyone there. "This bitch tried to leave and squeal," Lauren said into her microphone. "Tsk-tsk!" she added with a wag of her finger. "KILL her!" several women shouted, blood and guts on their faces as they ate the remaining bits of their sickening repast. "Well of course we'll kill her," Lauren laughed, "but since she was originally an invited guest before she got fucking stupid, and seeing how her daughter is still one of us and present this evening, I'd hate to just shoot her and send her off to the kitchen...why not have some fun with how we kill her? Ladies..." At that, game cards and markers were handed out to each table, and before you knew it the would-be escapee was being dismembered, bit by bloody bit, in a psychopathic version of Bingo. Lauren stood completely nude on the dais, her body soiled with the gore of quite a few victims, calling out the numbers with a bloody meat cleaver in her hand. As various diners called out a Bingo, another piece of the foolish former guest would be painfully hacked or sliced off by the charming evil hostess and delivered to the winners...when the victim's limbs, cunt, tits and rump were gone and impromptu cauterization of her stumps wasn't holding up all that well, a brief show of hands was called for on how to kill the stupid twat before she bled to death. Most of the guests had already finished their main courses; the majority favoured a big see-through vat of corrosive acid for the entertainment value of such a spectacle, and so the living torso of the bitch was dumped inside it. She screamed curses at them all even as she was dropped into it, going mad with pain as she thrashed about in the toxic flesh-eating brew during her final moments. Everyone laughed when the woman's own daughter spread her legs and pissed against the vat whilst she enjoyed watching her mother die (she even shouted "Fuck you Mum, you whore, serves you right!")...

***

Several hours after arriving, Jennifer and Summer were calmly relaxing with their dining companions in the after-dinner smoking lounge at Chéz Cherie, their bellies full of human flesh and filth. The sun had long since set, and moonlight shone on the cars in the parking lot. As with everyone else, the blood of Jennifer & Summer's victims had splattered their fancy dresses; the dining room was a mess, awash with feces, blood, piss, puke, broken bones and dirty dishes, all of which was now being cleaned by the restaurant's expert staff. By morning, the place would be pristine once again. Summer sighed happily as she sat next to her mother on one of the soft, cozy couches and took another drag from her cigarette. Reaching her arms around Jennifer, the seven year old hugged her as they watched the fire crackle merrily in the fireplace. "I had the best time, Mummy," Summer said dreamily. Jennifer chuckled.

"As did I, my little filth tart," she laughed, stroking her daughter's dark curls as she smoked. "I certainly never expected all this...nor did you, I gather?" Jennifer relaxed in the heat of the fire, waiting for her daughter to reply. "Summer?"

Looking down, she saw that her beautiful little girl had drifted off to sleep, nestled at her side. The child's cigarette dangled from her fingertips, growing ash. Moving gently so as not to wake her, Jennifer reached forward and grabbed the cigarette, stubbing it out in the ashtray by the couch. My sweet little treasure, she thought as she beheld her daughter's sleeping beauty, she's had a long day - tired herself right out. Looking at her watch, Jennifer realized it was at least two hours past Summer's regular bedtime.

Sitting back, Jennifer Meadows pulled her daughter closer with a soft nudge, kissed her forehead, and smiled happily. She was content. Life doesn't get much better than this, she thought, and lit one last cigarette before carrying Summer out to the car, driving home, and snuggling into their bed together for a well-earned good night's sleep.

***

Epilogue

The doors of the local police station opened, and Nancy Welke entered with her older sister Shannon beside her. Nancy looked distraught, as she had ever since her 10 year old daughter Denise had gone missing while delivering newspapers on her paper route. It had been more than two weeks now, with no word (and according to the police, no leads). The brunette-haired mother was beginning to feel frantic, especially with the attitude the police had been giving her.

"Look, please..." she began, "I know you've got other cases to work on but it's been two and a half bloody weeks now, and I need to know what's happening so far, I'm worried sick. Please...I want to speak to whoever's handling the investigation of my daughter's disappearance," she asked of the uniformed woman at the front desk, sniffling her stuffy nose and wiping a tear away with a handkerchief. The receptionist gave Nancy a look of annoyed disinterest. "Ma'am, this is a police station," she said flatly without a trace of sympathy, "we have important business to attend to besides tracking down your irresponsible daughter every time she runs away. Or perhaps you think we should do all your parenting for you?"

Nancy looked shocked. "My daughter didn't run away," she said, feeling a fresh burst of tears coming on. "She's missing, I tell you, and we've got to f-find her. How can you not-"

"Is there a problem, Constable?"

The chief of police (none other than the corrupt lezzie butch who had attended the opening dinner at Chéz Cherie) strode up, addressing the officer at the desk. "Are these women causing a disturbance?" she asked, casting a sneer at the worried mother.

"Yes they are," the constable replied, eyeing Nancy coldly.

"Right," the chief said, slapping her hands together. A moment later, two more uniformed female officers appeared behind Nancy and Shannon, restraining them and placing them in handcuffs. The chief addressed them both. "You two cunts are under arrest." Nancy's mouth gaped in awe, while Shannon found her voice. "On what charge?!" she demanded, equally incredulous. The chief leaned closer, spitting the words into the sisters' faces. "For interfering in an official police investigation, impeding justice, causing a public disturbance, and frankly coming down here far too often in the last few weeks with your stupid whining enquiries! That's four fucking crimes...you two are repeat offenders. I'd be derelict in my duty if I failed to lock you up right now. It may interest you to know as well, that as chief of police, it is within my discretion to deem these local offences...in which case I would determine your guilt and sentence you accordingly." The chief gestured to the arresting officers: "Take them to a cell in the back and strip them. I'll deal with these stupid whiny whores shortly."

The sisters were promptly taken back through a series of winding hallways and through several heavily-locked checkpoints until they reached a tiny dirty back area consisting of a narrow path and six cells that looked like something out of the Dark Ages. The floor was cobblestone, mossy and fairly old-looking. The walls were similar. Spiders' webs hung from every corner, including the dank, vile-smelling cell they were led to at the end of the narrow area. A single bare lightbulb, coated in dust, dangled high above from the ceiling, and Nancy saw a rat scurry past along the edge of the cell in the dim light. "Here we are. Alright you two cunts - take your fucking clothes off, or we'll beat the shit out of you and take them off for you," one of the policewomen said. The two sisters were still in shock, hardly believing what was happening to them. "I.....I...what?" Nancy gasped. "You heard her, bitch, " the other policewoman barked unkindly. "Strip - NOW! " Gritting her teeth in a snarl, she backhanded Shannon in the face with her leather-gloved fist, watching the 34 year old fall to the floor as a result of the impact. Raising her hand towards Nancy next, the officer-woman was pleased to see the mother quickly cower back in fear, hurriedly removing her clothing as she had been instructed. Shannon did the same after receiving a few vicious kicks to the stomach.

Throwing the clothes into a pile on the floor of one of the other cells, the two officers locked Nancy and Shannon's cell and promptly left, shutting the only light off and leaving their prisoners in total darkness. The stone floor felt cold and clammy against Nancy's bare soles as she shivered and listened to the sound of the rats. There was nothing in the cell to even sit upon except the floor. Neither sister had been given any food or water.

Hours passed. When the lone lightbulb suddenly brightened again, it startled the disoriented sisters. Hearing the sound of a creaking door swinging open, they stood by the cell door, doing the best they could to cover themselves with their arms. A moment later, the chief walked in, her swaggering walk and expression doing little to raise either woman's spirits.

"Well," the chief said cheerfully, "in accordance with my powers, I've deemed your crimes local offences. Which means its up to me to decide what happens to you. Naturally I've determined that you two twats are fucking guilty!" Grinning maniacally, she stepped closer to the cell-bars. "I bet you're just itching to know what sentence I've decided to mete out, aren't you?"

"This is completely illegal," Shannon said, shivering. "I am a barrister, you know, and there is no legal basis for the appalling treatment we've-AAAAGGH!!"

The chief pulled the electric cattle prod (which she'd been hiding behind her back) away from the elder sister's side after a moment, laughing as her victim twitched in agony on the cell floor. "Do I look like I give a fucking fuck what's legal?" the chief asked softly. The softness of her voice was psychotic, and Nancy regarded the butchy woman with fear.

"Mrs. Welke, you'll be pleased to know that your daughter's whereabouts are no longer unknown," the chief said, almost conversationally. Nancy's eyes went wide, temporarily forgetting her situation as she felt a rush of joy. "She's been found?? Oh my God, is she OK?" she asked, joy turning to fear once more at what might have befallen her dear 10 year old Denise.

"Hmmm..." The chief seemed to ponder the question. "How do I put this? Her whereabouts have been known to our department actually since the day she disappeared - we simply felt it unwise to reveal our knowledge of such to you until now. As to your second question - is she OK? Well...OK is such a relative term. She certainly tasted OK...after I kidnapped her, raped her babycunt, murdered her-" [an awful shriek of grief and horror came from Nancy as the chief continued] "-hung her body to rot for a week in a basement, and ate her rotten guts with a large group of lesbian women at a cannibal restaurant. You'd have been proud at how popular the paté the staff there made from Denise's rotten little liver was. Oh - well, perhaps you wouldn't, but then you're a terrible mother aren't you? Unable to protect your little girl from a lezzie psycho like me...she had quite a set of lungs on her before I stabbed them to ribbons with a butcher knife. I wonder if it's an inherited trait?" The chief grinned. "Well, we'll see! You two are both scheduled to die on the menu tomorrow night at the same restaurant, Chéz Cherie. It's going to be quite the massacre but you won't die slow, rest assured. You'll both feel every bite - and what luck, your presence will give me a chance to put my dentistry hobby into practice too. I just bought a new hammer, and oh dear, I think all of your teeth need to be smashed out of your heads with it. What the hammer doesn't get can be ripped out with my new pliers, not to worry. No anaesthesia of course...actually, victims at Chéz Cherie are injected with a solution that keeps the pain acutely fresh! It'll be a botch-job for the record books! But goodness me, where are my manners...I was about to pronounce sentence." The chief made a show of straightening her posture, and adopted a crisp, formal tone.

"Nancy & Shannon Welke...I hereby sentence you to death without appeal!"

***

The End...for now! Further adventures involving "The Restaurant" may yet be written! I think the title "Death Without Appeal" would be suitable, taken from the lezzie chief's pronouncement at the end there. I'm not promising a sequel, but we'll see...!

I started Part One of this story in the winter of 2005, and then didn't return to it for a long time. That's the way it is with stories sometimes. But the long absence worked its magic it would seem, since writing the entirety of Part Two took less than a month! I hope you all enjoyed it. And now the standard (albeit updated) text as follows:

This is my seventh story for ASSTR. I'm so glad to have my own page here at ASSTR - it is a great honor and pretty cool if you ask me!

I write about what I like, so a lot of my tales are about feet, or shit, or smoking, although you can be sure to find a lot more than that in my writing. Unlike some authors who write a tale or two and then disappear, I plan on writing regularly, so check back every now and then for new stories. I am writing exclusively for ASSTR now. (And yes I realize I haven't posted as frequently as the above would seem to indicate, but the creative process can't be rushed. All in good time, you horny masturbating readers!)

Anyway (whew) - as usual, this work is what it is, and if you've read it then just remember, the disclaimer at the beginning stands in its entirety. [Even I found a great deal of the content in this particular story disturbing to read and totally wrong!] I just wanted you to understand I'm a girl who is not without heart, who wishes harm to none. Be nice.

I would greatly appreciate any feedback, comments, or ideas you can give me. Feedback and comments are welcome from men, women and other (transvestites etc? lol). Collaboration, ongoing correspondence and chat are welcome from lesbians and bi-women...and while I've restricted such to women only in the past, I have received and enjoyed correspondence with quite a few of my male readers as well, so fellas, by all means do dash off an email to me, and I will reply. My email is raquelsilestra_author@hotmail.com - I'm friendly and I'd love to chat with any like-minded pervy lesbians or bi-females like me. Merry Christmas and a Happy New 2008 to you all! Kisses to all, Raquel.