It was hardly two hours before the handlers were back and the steel door to the pen swung open. They began checking the tags of the sows, sorting them by number.

Kimberly bunched up with the rest of the herd. It was not long before she was sorted into place behind a tall curvy sow with long silken black hair flowing down her back to just over her full buttocks. She marveled at how gorgeous the sow was, thinking she would fetch a good bid.

Then another thought struck her as she wondered what would happen to all of them after they were bid on and won.

It was not long before they were all led out of the pen single file and to another exit from the barn a long narrow dim passageway. The line halted for a moment and a loud voice but muffled voice could be heard talking, announcing. Occasionally there was a burst of light from down the end of the hall, the sound of an audience cheering and then darkness and muffled sound again. After each burst of light, the line moved forward a step.

There was gasping, excited and sometimes frantic discussion all along the line as the line of sows realizing that the auctioneer was just ahead. Unable to see past the sow in front of them the entire line fidgeted nervously in anticipation.

Again and again there was a burst of light, a moment of clear sound and then darkness all followed by a step forward. The closer each got to the door the more they could make out the sing song of the auctioneer as he pushed the meat.

Kimberly heard him chant and almost shout, his voice rising at the end of each phrase, then the inevitable bang of a gavel. Then the door opened again and the black haired sow in front of her stepped into the light. The door swung shut and she stepped forward. Her heart was racing. She was next.

Cocking her head to one side to listen more intently the blonde sow heard the number 383 words ‘donated by’ and ‘Bindermann’s Deli’. She heard the raven haired sow’s weight of 120 pounds, and then the sing song of the auctioneer began.

Kimberly mentally checked her appearance but realized she couldn't fix her hair or anything else. Flexing her wrists against her bonds she listened as the bidding began at 100 dollars, the standard price of a grade A sow. It quickly rose by increments of fifty dollars.

Kimberly was amazed at the bids but was happy the charity would be benefiting. She was shaken out of her thoughts when the gavel came down at 750.

The door swung open and the bright afternoon sun streamed in. Two hands come out of the light and took her by the shoulder, compelling her you forward, up a short ramp.

Kimberly blinked rapidly, temporarily blinded by the burst of sunlight. She allowed the hands to guide her, tossing her hair to keep any curls from her face. She smiled, more out of nervousness than any feeling of happiness.

At the top of the ramp the sow was brought to the center of a small amphitheatre. She was surrounded by the patrons on bleachers. The auction boss stood is in a pulpit perch next to the stage. She stood as naked meat before the buyers.

“Lot 384 - as donated by Jessica Systems," the auctioneer informed the buyers; adjusting his spectacles.

Kimberly saw Serge stand up out of the corner of her eye and give a wave of acknowledgement to the auctioneer and the assembly. She resisted the urge to nibble her lip nervously.

“123 pounds of fine sow meat for your pleasure. We start at 100,” he began scanning the crowd for his first bidder.

Kimberly took a shuttering breath, her shoulders rising and falling before she settled.

A paddle went up. 150. Then another. 200. The cool autumn air brought the blonde’s nipples up proudly.

Kimberly saw the paddles of the bidders out of the corners and bottoms of her eyes of my sight but did look at any directly.

As the bidding proceeded, the handler paraded Kimberly around the stage, showing her off. She was bent at the waist to demonstrate how well her large breasts hung and how fine her fillet appeared

Kimberly flushed pink, but did not protest, knowing that it was all part of the process.

The bidding reached 600 then 650. It was now between 4 groups vying for the sow.

When the bidding reached 800, much to her surprise, she could see the colourfully dressed Nigerian man raise his paddle.

Kimberly eyes widened as she struggled to keep her composure. She took a deep breath as the handler stepped behind her and lifted, weighed and displayed her breasts for the bidders.

Kimberly took a deep breath in an attempt to settle as the bidding reached 850 with the raising of the paddle of a pasty Englishman. She was both flattered and surprised by the bidding war that after a few moments reached 1000 dollars. Remembering that the funds raised were going to charity, the blonde swallowed and tried to smile to encourage the bids.

The auctioneer scanned the crowd. “One thousand dollars once,” he declared, searching for any more bidders. The Englishman shook his head that he would not be bidding anymore. Raising the gavel the auctioneer surveyed the crowd again, “One thousand dollars twice.” Seeing no other bidders he brought the gavel down. “All done, Lot 384 sold for 1000 to Mr. Ubuntu.”

Kimberly remembered him; his gold toothed grin filled her memory. She was nervous but smiled reflexively as she was lead away from the stage through a side door back around and down into the barn Kimberly padded along in bare feet, wondering what would happen next.

Reaching the pens a tag was placed around her fair neck reading: "Property of M. M. Ubuntu"

Kimberly glanced down at it with curiosity. She fidgeted, wondering about her new temporary owner. Her similar expressions of wonder on the faces of the other sows as they looked down at their new tags. It was a short jump in memory to imagine his feeling his hands again. She fidgeted even more at the thought, her heart racing as she remembered his desire to serve her up.

An hour after the last sow was auctioned; handlers began arriving at the pen. Quickly they sought out a specific sow and she would be lead away.

Several times Kimberly’s tag was checked but she was not taken. The whole experience reminded of her time in the pen at the Squeal of the Pig. She shuttered at the case of mistaken identity that very nearly placed her on the dining room tables of the restaurant.

Finally a handler arrived to look at her tag, and nodded in satisfaction. Taking Kimberly by the crease of her elbow, he led her out of the barn.

Kimberly rolled her shoulders occasionally, as they walked. She regarded his rather neutral expression, wondering about it as he took her from the pen.

The blonde was lead out of the pen and down along the yard along side of the slaughterhouse. They came to a section that was fragrant with cooking meat and turned a corner into a roasting grotto. Kimberly’s eyes grew wide with a surprise at their sudden appearance.

Row after row of spitted sows turned slowly over dozens of pits. Some, freshly placed continued to wriggle, others nearly done, turned quietly over the coals. Kimberly felt her heart skip a beat and a tremor of arousal stir within her at the sight. The smell reminded her she hadn’t eaten since morning.

Kimberly’s full breasts bounced rhythmically with each step, proudly pushed forward by the bonds about her wrists. She walked past a sow as she was being lowered onto the upright into an empty pit. She looked up at Kimberly as they passed. Kimberly flashed back to the time she first time she held the short length of spit in Serge’s lab in her mouth, she could taste the steel much in the same way the sow that looked up at her was.

The handler led her to the far end of the roasting grotto before they re-enter a building into a large kitchen area. There were a dozen work tables where sows were kneeling on platters being prepared as roasts. They approached and empty table flanked by two tall black men in crisp white cook's uniforms. "Number 384?” the handler asked receiving a nod from the most senior of the pair. “This one is yours," the handler remarked as he handed her over

Kimberly marveled at how dark their skin was next to the white fabric but was even more surprised by her surroundings. She raised her gaze to the two of them before examining table.

Atop it was a shallow pan, containing some sort a bed of broad tropical leaves. In several spots, eye hooks poked up through the vegetation.

"Up on the table sow." One of the chefs commanded in a heavily accented voice as he patted the shiny metal surface. "Into the platter with you sow. Kneel here," The cook pointed to the center of the platter as he persisted in his insistence.

“-But?” Kimberly questioned, wide-eyed.

Before they could roughly put her in place she nodded, her heart pounding as she stretched one knee up to the edge of the table and wiggled it forward before pulling her straining support leg up behind it.

Kimberly trembled, feeling the cold steel against her skin. She crept her way forward on her knees, her bound wrists behind her precluding the use of her hands to make the crawl faster.

She felt the leaves tickle her shins and tops of her feet, licking her lips anxiously, glancing around in question at both of them.

No sooner was she in position then the men begin to tie her down with thick cooking twine. Her knees were left somewhat apart and her ankles, shins and upturned rump protruded over the edge of the platter. Her hands were released then retied in front to bring elbows to rest on the leafy bed just next to and inside of her knees. She was tied off and secured in a kneeling position.

Kimberly looked straight ahead, feeling the twine press into her skin. She felt the other cook reach between her arms and pull her large breasts forward, arranging them to the stick out between your arms, with her nipples forward

Kimberly grunted softly, remembering the second night of her experience at the restaurant.

One cook took a tureen of sweet basting sauce and began to brush it on her bound form, covering her body while the other took a large dollop of whipped butter and began working it into her bottom and fillet.

Kimberly groaned softly, inhaling the scent of the sauce, feeling herself opened by at set of professional fingers. She wondered absentmindedly how many sows the chefs had prepared and then had a more serious thought that the pair knew that this was only temporary.

The pair laboured over her meat as they would any sow, preparing it for a feast.

Kimberly felt something large and round being pushed into her bottom. She reasoned that it must be some sort of large vegetable as she gasped, keeping her head up, her eyes blinking as it was pushed inward and seated. A few moments later, some equally large vegetable was slid into her sex, stretching the lips wide about it.

Kimberly breath caught as she grimaced, gritting her teeth, her body tensing then quivering, struggling to accept it. She panted softly for several minutes, her eyes bulging and her skin flushing pink under the glaze that smelled of fruit, honey and spices.

The blonde’s breasts were garnished with large round slices of some other sort of vegetable. It now appeared as if she had a pair of large round aureoles.

Kimberly was unable to shift much, feeling the twine hold her snug. She looked up as one of the chefs approached with an apple, ordering her to ‘open.’ Her eyes crossed as she watched the large red fruit approach her lips before her head strained forward and her teeth met the skin and the pulp of the fruit, crunching into it, and a trickle of sweet acidic juice dribbling down the corners of her mouth and over her tongue.

As she knelt there like a suckling pig, some final green herbs were sprinkled over her sticky back and breasts. In no time Kimberly looked just right for popping into an oven

Kimberly cheeks billowed as she strove to hold the apple, watching form the corner of her eye as one of the men retrieved a trolley and parked it at the edge of the table.

The pair seized hold of Kimberly’s platter and slid her forward onto the trolley.

Kimberly startled as the tray slid then banged and bumped to the trolley’s surface. She looked up at her chefs, her heart racing, the smell of the sauce, and apple, and herbs and smell of cooking meat all intermingling in her pert nose. She wondered where they were taking her. Fearfully her green eyes darted about, fearing it was an oven.

On well oiled wheels the stainless steel trolley glided silently over the terra cotta coloured tiles of the kitchen’s floor. Kimberly could not see the chefs but she could hear them behind her talking in their native Yoruba as they pushed her onward.

They advance across the wide room to a pair of side swinging doors and suddenly they were in a large dark room with glowing ovens and the smell of roasting sows.

Kimberly emitted a mew of fear, her eyes darting about to the faintly lit oven interiors as they passed them, the heat very pronounced.

They trolley was pushed along past several before it finally it came to stop next to one. The cart was turned so that Kimberly’s buttocks pointed toward it. She could not see what was happening behind her.

Kimberly’s heart pounded as she heard the clatter of metal and then the blast of hot air against your naked bottom. She tensed, her heart galloping in her chest.

"Ya, it looks good. I think it is ready," she heard one of the pair say.

Kimberly startled, the twine pressing into her glazed flesh in reaction. She bit more deeply into the apple, her bottom wiggling. The she yelped into the apple, feeling a slap on her bottom.

"Be still you miserable sow" a voice admonished her.

Kimberly whimpered as she heard more clattering behind her, then the hot breath of the oven was gone from her backside.

Kimberly let out a shuddering breath of relief through her nose as they were suddenly on the move again.

Kimberly was wheeled through the hot kitchen, her eyes intently watching the red ‘exit’ sign over the door approach.

She was pushed through the swinging doors to long service way passing other kitchen workers with sows both alive and prepared. Soon arrived in a room of to the side where she was alone with her chefs.

She was pushed through a door and entered a fine banquet hall. The back of the hall is covered in fine hand woven carpets, large over stuffed pillows and many low tables. Amongst these she saw her owner, Mr. Ubuntu and his entourage as well as Merle Hills and Serge.

Kimberly smiled inwardly with relief at the sight of Serge in particular. She felt much safer with him present, allowing herself to swallow a trickle of juice from the apple still held firmly in her teeth.

"Excellent, excellent, Place them at the front please," a colourfully robed servant of Ubuntu’s directed, clasping his hands in delight.

Kimberly was wheeled past a long table covered in all manner of fine side dishes until the cooks find her appointed place. The trolley was turned and she come face to face with a roasted sow on a platter, prepared exactly as she was, only she had spent a few hours in the bowels of an oven and was now a crispy delicacy. She was a fine, full black woman in life, but now is a roasted sow.

Kimberly looked into the sow's serene face, wondering if she was a late edition to the auction, not remembering her.

"Gentlemen, I give you an example of one of our finest imported meats. I hope you find it as tasty as I do and I hope I can entice you to doing some trading with me before I return to Lagos,” Mr. Ubuntu said with flourish as he stood before the small assembled group of underlings and guests.

Kimberly hearing his words remembered his wishes at the earlier exhibition.

"As for what I have in mind for a trade, fine white sows like this one would fetch an excellent price in my country," he gestured in Kimberly’s direction.

Kimberly swallowed nervously running her tongue against the apple's skin.

Merle rose and walked to the two sows examining the pair with an appraising gaze, “I see what you mean Mr. Ubuntu. I’ll have to show you some of my select stock later to see if any of those meet with your standards," he smiled at his guest.

"Thank You Mr., Hill,” Ubuntu responded with a smile of acknowledgement, “But, come now is the time to partake of these sows."

Ubuntu walked to Kimberly and with a steady pulled, withdrew the long hard vegetable from her sex and laid it on the platter next to her.

Merle smiled in acknowledgement and took the apple from Kimberly’s mouth, just as she felt something equally large but more warm and pliant being pushed into the empty, gaping hole of her sex.

Kimberly licked her lips which began to crease in a relieved and anticipatory smile before inhaling deeply with surprise.

Merle, still smiling, drew out his thick member from his loose pants and pushed the florid head against Kimberly’s lips.

Kimberly opened her mouth enthusiastically. She looked up into Merle’s face, remembering the previous day and wanting more. Kimberly slid her tongue along the underside of his offered cock, feeling the man behind her start to thrust inside.

A servant stood by handing him Merle a fork for a prepared plate of sow and side dishes, already cut. Merle took the fork and stabbed a piece of the cooked sow, popping into his mouth. Chewing with a smile on his face, Merle looked down at the blonde clearly enjoying both sows at once.

Kimberly shivered with arousal, the thought of Merle’s pleasure striking her like a lightning bolt. As the blonde’s sucking lips smacked, her insides turned to jelly as her sex warmed and reacted to the sexing and the situation.

"You certainly know how to throw a party Ubuntu," Merle commented appreciatively, enjoying the feast for his senses.

"Thank you Merle. Our traditional dishes are the best," he answered as he continued to thrust his hips, enjoying the sensation as he too dined on bits of Kimberly’s twin on the other platter.

Kimberly moaned softly, enthusiastically fulfilling her role, loving Merle's taste, enjoying the friction of Ubuntu’s thick member inside her sex.

Kimberly’s button buzzed and sparked as the pair took her hard and the other guests watched, waiting their turn.

She heard them talking between bites, her breasts, glistening from the basting of oil bursting forth from between her slender, arms. Merle groaned and emptied himself into her mouth. No sooner was he gone than Bunt’s son, all 10 thick inches of him, replaced Merle and pushes his big cockhead deep into her throat.

Kimberly moaned softly, feeling him glide over her tongue. She did her best to satisfy him, her cheeks puffing and flaring as her painted lips surrounded and embraced him.

Meanwhile, she felt the elder Ubuntu release himself into her stretched sex. His warm semen dribbled out of her down her shapely legs as he pulled out. His last act before he left her was to pull out the vegetable corking her bottom. In a blink, one of his guests replaced it with his own stiff cock

Kimberly grunted at the intrusion, feeling her hips rock forward, pushing her onto the younger Ubuntu’s crotch. She felt the cock at the back of her throat and she swallowed around it.

One after another the guests had her. As each one stepped away from her face she caught a glimpse of her black sister on the other platter. First she was missing one of her breasts. Another moment of sight and the other was gone. Her right arm, then her left were missing. Both sows were devoured by the appetites of the men.

Kimberly gulped and swallowed, experiencing electrifying orgasm after orgasm, her mind floating in delicious rapture as the stream of hosts and guests sought to have their hunger sated.

Finally Serge stepped into view, his modest cock at full attention. He looked down at Kimberly and quipped "I understand the food is excellent here and the service isn't bad either." He shoved his tumescent shaft into Kimberly’s mouth, now drooling the secretions of at least a dozen men

Kimberly tasted only cum, her skin flushed pink as she moaned softly, giving Serge the same attention as all the others, looking up into his face.

Serge thrust at her face while enjoying a tasty morsel of the black girl, now only her left leg, buttock and head remaining amidst the bones.

Kimberly saw his expression of satisfaction and, urged on by it, used her tongue to stroke and bathe him.

Between the sweetness of the sow flesh and the sweetness of Kimberly’s mouth it didn't take Serge long to begin to reach his climax. She tasted his salty precum well up, heralding the flood to come. Kimberly groaned, her lips smacking in anticipation.

Not holding back any longer Serge relaxed into his orgasm. His rock hard cock in her mouth blasted the back of her throat while one of Mr. Ubuntu's men took her sopping pussy.

Kimberly groaned softly, swallowing, drinking Serge’s cum, her green eyes fluttering, seeing his expression of fulfillment.

Soon the men are spent and retire to the pillows to smoke their pipes and cigars, leaving the blonde sow to watch, perched on the platter, dripping in their cum. The bones and head of her sister sow across from her. If Kimberly were a real sow that would have been her fate too.

Kimberly slumped slightly from exhaustion all the exercising she had been doing not only got her figure ready but her body ready for the marathon of sexing. She listened as much as she could to the conversations.

More than once she heard Mr. Ubuntu making a play at having Merle sell her to him but Merle diplomatically refused, knowing he would loose his license if he ascended. Kimberly was inwardly grateful that Merle valued his business more than a quick sale.

Finally the men begin to file out and the two cooks return with a handler. They untied Kimberly’s bonds and pulled her up off of the platter.

Kimberly groaned softly, a little unsteady, catching herself as she wobbled on tired legs, cramped from being tied in place for several hours.

The handler walks her back to the barn, her skin still covered in sticky sauce and dry cum.

Kimberly was too tired to protest about her state, instead doing as directed. Her body sang with pleasure and yet was exhausted from her duties.

As the pair reached the holding pen, it was littered with the auction sows, many, like Kimberly, used by their owners to the point of exhaustion. The feeding trough was full, if any had an appetite and the straw on the floor seemed soft enough for bedding.