My Daughter’s Last Birthday


Introduction:
If you squick easily, my stories aren’t for you. Consider yourself warned.

A short disclaimer (because people seem to ignore the Introduction section): This story contains rape, slavery, cannibalism and snuff. These things are listed in the tags above. If you don’t like reading about those things, then this story is not for you.

—–

Back in high school, I was the sort of girl who didn’t care about her studies at all. I didn’t see the point and just wanted to have fun. That fun wound up giving me Abigail when I was 16. That was 18 years ago today. Once I had the responsibility of a child, my priorities shifted, and it became my life’s work to raise her the best that I could. She’s even been accepted into Harvard, and will start there in the fall. I couldn’t be prouder of my little girl. For her birthday today, I’ve brought her to eat at her favorite Italian restaurant, La Strada.

We were just leaving, and heading through the dark parking lot to my car when a young man approached us. He had a somewhat muscular frame. I remember seeing him eating at the restaurant with a few of his friends. His sleeves were rolled up and there was oil or something on his hands. “Excuse me, ma’am?”

I turned to look at the man, “Yes?”

“I’m real sorry to bother you, but I need some help. My battery’s dead and I just need a jump.”

“Oh, Okay. That’s no problem. Where’s your car?”

“It’s right over there,” the man points at his car across the lot. There’s only one car with the hood open, in the direction he points. It’s a faded blue and looks fairly beat up.

“Okay, wait for us there, we’ll pull up to it.”

“Thank you so much! You don’t know how much of help this is!”

We part ways and as I start my car, Abby turns to me, “He’s cute”.

“Yeah, he certainly is. He’s probably already got someone.”

“Yeah… Maybe.”

We pull up to his car and I hit the button to pop open the hood before getting out. As I get out, I feel a hand on my mouth. I open my eyes wide and see the first man I spoke to leaning on the passenger side door, keeping Abby in the car. I hear Abby let out a scream.

“You shut your whore mouth or I paint your mother’s car a nice shade of red here!”, I feel cold, round metal against the side of my head and Abby stops screaming. I can see tears streaming down her face. I’m crying too. The man lets go of my mouth and opens the back door of my car. He pushes me inside and I turn to look at my attacker for a moment. He slams the door shut and gets into the driver’s seat.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Abby,” I whisper to my little girl.

The rear passenger side door opens and the man who tricked me gets in, pointing a gun as well. Once he’s in, I hear the click of the locks. A third and forth man walk passed to the other car, shutting both hoods. I turn to my right and stare at the gun pointed at me for a few moments. “Listen, just let her go. Do whatever you want to me, but please, just let her go!”

The man laughs a bit. “Anything I want?”

“Anything!”

“Alright, I want you to prove it before I consider your offer.”

“Prove it how?”

“Suck my dick, bitch! And make it convincing!”

I glance at Abby who’s turned in her seat to watch what’s going on. I turn back to the man and nod as I lower myself towards his crotch. I undo his pants and pull out his cock and balls. It’s soft. Holding it in two fingers, I see it begin to grow as I move my mouth toward it. I put it in my mouth and suck, feeling it grow in size as I do. Soon, it’s hardened and I’m bobbing my head along the first few inches of his shaft. As I’m moving my head, I can hear him. “Awww… Yeah… That’s a good slut…” I feel his hand on the back of my head. He’s pushing me, trying to make me take more of his dick. I take a deep breath and loosen my throat, letting his dick go all the way into my throat. “Oh, fuck! You’re quite the whore ain’t ya!? It takes a lot of practice to take that much dick!” I start to pull back, but he holds my head still with his hand. “No movement yet. Just suction.”

I start to suck as hard as I can, unable to breathe with his dick deep in my throat. I can feel my face getting hot. I frantically try to milk his cock with my tongue. I think about biting him, but if I do that, he definitely won’t let Abby go, so I just keep sucking. I start to feel a few spasms and he lets go. I immediately pull myself off his cock and start coughing and catching my breath. “Heh, maybe you’re not as good at this as I thought…” Hearing that, I immediately move my head toward his dick, but he presses his hand against my forehead. “Don’t bother, slut, we’re here.”

“Please, I tried my best, let her go!”

“Did you honestly think that was ever a possibility? Look at her! She’s hot! Worth quite a lot, I’m sure…”

“I’ll pay you whatever you want!”

“You don’t have money anymore, slut. You’re my slave now.”

I just stare at him as his words sink in. Both of the guys in the car are laughing. I hear the front driver’s side door, then the door next to me. The man I was sucking off turns toward Abby as I’m pulled out of the car. The man holds me still as one of the men from the other car walks up to me with a knife. I try to kick him, but he grabs my foot and slips my shoe off of it. “How many pieces would you like to be in right now? Keep your damned legs down!” I swallow the spit in my mouth and his brings the knife to my skirt. He cuts through the fabric and tosses it onto the ground. He continues cutting away at my clothes until I’m naked. The men then start pushing me toward the building. A bouncer nods at them as I’m pushed through the doorway. Inside, heavy metal is blasting through the speakers. The guys all look intimidating. Most of them look like they work out. Many have tattoos and odd piercings. It’s definitely a seedy place. There’s a stage in the middle with a few women dancing naked on poles. They each have one ankle handcuffed to the pole they’re on. There are two bars, one of each side. As I’m pushed through the crowd, a lot of the men look at me or not far behind me. Abby must be right behind me.

When we get to the back of the room, a security guard opens a door behind him and lets us through. There’s a hallway. Once the door shuts behind us, I can barely hear the music. We make a right, then a left, then the man in front of me opens a door on the right with a key. Inside, there are a few cages. They can each hold a single person, standing up. Three of the cages have naked crying women in them. The man switches on a light, and I’m brought to a cage and pushed in. I watch as Abby’s pushed into the cage next to mine. The men leave and turn out the lights.

“Umm… Hi. Do you girls know what’s going on here?”

“No, sorry. They said they needed a jump for their car, and the next thing we knew, we were here.”

“It was the same with us.”

Abby adds a bit of insight “They said that I’d probably be ‘worth a lot’ because of my looks. That makes me think they plan on selling us.”

“Selling us?!”, one of the other girls almost shouts, “Oh, god no…”

“You don’t belong here Abby. You’re a smart girl. You’re still young and have most of your life to look forward to.”

“None of us belong here, Mom.”

We chat a bit more with the other girls, talking about anything other than our current situation, to try to take our minds off of it. Their names are April, Megan and Amanda. They’re all in their 20s. At 34, I’m the oldest here, and the only mother.

After a while, the men come back and take us out of the room. They don’t take us out of the cages, carrying us back to the main room. The women who were dancing with the poles aren’t on the poles anymore. I see one of them behind one of the bar counters, but she’s been impaled on what seems to be a spit-roasting device, similar to what they have for chicken behind the meat counter at our local grocery store. Our cages are put on the stage, and everyone has gathered around. Megan is separated from the rest of us. The crowd starts shouting out numbers. I realize that they’re bidding on her. Eventually one of them wins her and climbs onto the stage. He hands the men some cash and cuffs her through the cage before they unlock it to let him take her out. He carries her out of the building on his shoulder.

I look back at Abby and realize that we’ll probably be separated. I might never see my baby girl again. “I love you, Abby”, I tell her. She smiles for a moment, “I love you too, Mom.” We reach our arms through our cages and hug. Just then, I feel a poke in my back. I release Abby and turn to see one of the men just poked me with a wooden rod of some sort. Turning back to Abby, her cage is being moved to the center. She’s the next one getting bid on. I watch as people shout out numbers. The numbers go higher than they did for Megan. At some point, the man selling my daughter pushes his finger into her pussy and announces that she’s still a virgin. This brings a few more people into the bidding, including one of the bartenders who winds up giving the highest number by the end of it all.

The bartender and a few security guards come onto the stage. He’s wearing an apron and rubber gloves. He’s carrying a bucket and a long metal rod. He puts the rod down next to Abby and takes a blowtorch and a knife out of the bucket. The men selling us unlock the cage and the security guards grab her limbs and hold her still. The bartender takes the knife and slices her belly open. I’m not sure who screamed louder, me or my baby girl. They’re going to kill her, slowly. I spent most of my life raising her. She’s all I have, and they’re going to kill her right in front of me.

I watch as he switches between the knife and the blowtorch, pulling out my daughter’s intestines and stomach, which go into the bucket. Then, he takes the metal rod and pushes it through her ass. His other hand is in her wound, probably guiding the metal rod. I eventually see it come out her mouth. Her screams are muffled, then they get a bit louder. Apparently there are holes in the rod for her to be able to breathe. These people must be the most sadistic scum on the planet. One of the security guards hands the bartender a couple more rods, which are thinner. One of them is slid onto the larger rod and pushed deep into her pussy. He announces to those watching when it passes through her cervix. The other is pushed through her ankles and a notch in the longer rod, holding her feet in place. Lastly, her arms are handcuffed and the chain of the cuffs goes between the main rod and the pussy rod.

The whole setup is the same as that pole dancer I saw roasting when we came back in. They’re going to cook my baby girl! “At least kill her first you sickos!” The men laugh at me and watch as poor Abby is carried behind the bar that doesn’t have the pole dancer in it. She’s placed in the roasting device, which begins to turn and glow a bright orange. I feel my cage being moved, and I watch, crying as my daughter cooks.

I hear numbers, but I don’t look at the men shouting them. Eventually they finish bidding and I feel cuffs around my hands and ankles. I’m carried to one of the tables right near the bar where my daughter is. The bartender is basting her as I watch. “Who was she to you?”, my new owner asks.

“My daughter.” I notice her blink. She must be in immense pain.

“I see. It’s a shame you won’t be having any more, because she looks delicious.”

I turn and glare at him, “Delicious!? She’s my daughter!”

He grabs my throat and I stop being able to breathe. “Do not yell at me again, bitch. Women are good for two things. Fucking and eating. Got it?” He lets go of my throat and I start breathing heavily to catch my breath. “You should be proud to have given birth to such a tasty looking whore. I’ll make sure you get a piece before we leave.”

“What? I couldn’t possibly eat-“

“You can and you will. I am your Master now. You will do as I say.”

He gets up from his seat and pushes me against the table, facing my daughter. He grips my hair tightly and holds me against the table, but hold my head back, forcing me to watch my daughter cook. “You will tell me when they take her off the spit.” As he talks, I hear his pants drop. I tighten my ass, but he uses his other hand to pull my cheeks open and force his manhood through my anus. “I want you to imagine my cock is the spit that impaled your daughter.” He continues fucking my ass, without any lubricant at all. I don’t care about the pain though. I already feel dead inside. I wish his cock was the spit. Then I’d be dead soon and this torture would be over with. He slaps my ass a few times and remarks about how red my skin gets when he slaps it.

My daughter’s skin goes from a pale white, like mine, to red, to a golden brown. I don’t know the exact moment of her death, but I’m sure she’s reached it by now. I’ve failed as a parent. It’s the only thing I’ve ever really tried to do, and I’ve failed to protect my baby girl. This is all my fault. Maybe I deserve this fate for being such a naughty girl in my youth, but Abby didn’t. She was a good girl. And because of my bad karma, she’s been dragged into this. It’s all my fault that she’s dead. My new master pulls his dick out of my ass and showers my back with spots of warm cum.

“Slave! clean my shitty dick with your tongue!” I don’t move. It’s not that I’m trying to defy my new Master, but I’m just so exhausted, physically and mentally, that I can barely react anymore. He pulls me up off the table by my hair and forces me down onto my knees. I can no longer see my daughter. He slaps me across the face and puts his dick up to my lips. “Don’t make me repeat myself, slave!” I look at his dick for a second and slowly begin to suck on it and lick it. It tastes a bit shitty from my ass, but I’m so emotionally numb right now that I don’t care. Once his dick is completely clean, he rubs my head like one might do with a dog. “Good slut.” Then he pulls his pants back up. Good? There’s nothing good about me. I’m a horrible failure. As her parent, it’s somehow my fault that my own daughter’s dead.

He brings me over to the bar as they’re sliding they’re carving the first slices of my daughter’s meat. He orders two thick slices of her ass and puts one in front of me. “I want you to be the first to get a taste of your daughter’s tender meat.” I stay silent and unmoving through the horror as he cuts a bite sized piece off the meat in front of me and presses it against my lips. My mouth fills with saliva as I smell my daughter’s cooked flesh, but I don’t open my mouth. My Master squeezes my cheeks with his other hand to force my mouth open and he shoves the bite in. He closes my mouth and shouts “Chew!” Slowly, I begin to chew. It’s horrible, but delicious. Very sweet. “See how good she tastes?”

I see other people ordering cuts of meat and the bartender slicing them off my daughter like she’s some kind of animal. I slowly continue eating my slice of Abby’s tasty meat as my Master eats his. My daughter is food. At least she’s delicious. This is not what I wanted for her. Her soul must be in Heaven though, right? After all, she was such a good girl. That can’t be too bad. Maybe this is the best I could do. To raise meat, like a cattle farmer, except that I’m also one of the cattle. That must be what I am. That would be why I neglected my studies when I was younger. Cattle need to breed, but not to learn. I must have just been doing what was natural. And to think, how arrogant I was to think that a daughter of mine is human like everyone else, when I don’t even pass for human. Maybe we almost were. But we’re not. And now we’re both paying the price for my arrogance.

Once we’re finished eating, Master brings me out to his Lexus. It’s very late at night, and I’m very tired and empty, despite the filling meal I’ve just eaten. I fall asleep as he drives me to his home. My new home.

—–

When I wake up, my cunt aches and I’m strapped to a table. “Ugh… What happened?”

“I’ve tied your tubes while you slept. You can no longer get pregnant.”

“How could I have slept through surgery?”

“Anesthetic. I’m no amateur. I’m a skilled plastic surgeon. I cut open whores like you every day.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“It’s Yes, ‘Master’.”

“Yes, Master.”

Over the next few days, he tells me stories of his clients. He teaches me how desperate women really are. If a woman is ugly, it doesn’t matter how smart she is. If she’s beautiful, she gets what she wants regardless of her intelligence. Beauty is really the only important thing for us. We’re all whores, really, though so many of us pretend that we’re not. He explains all the ways that we deserve this fate.

When he calls me “slut” or “whore” now, it starts to feel like a compliment. When he rapes my ass and mouth, I start to want it. After a while, he starts to rape my whore cunt too. I guess he was letting it recover from the surgery or something. He occasionally brings home snacks from work. Little bits of girlmeat that women wanted removed. Labiaplasty, for example, is the removal of part of a whore’s labia to make their cunt look better. If women weren’t cattle, why would they pay so much to have pieces removed so often?

“Whore!”

I rush over to Master and get on my knees in front of him. “Yes, Master?”

He pulls out his dick and I dutifully begin to suck it. “You’ve been a good little slut this past week, so I’ve decided to reward you.”

“Mmmm…”

“I’m not going to tell you yet what your reward will be. I will let it be a surprise.”

“Mmmm…”

“It’s something every whore like you should want.”

“Mmmm…”

“After this blowjob is over, I want you to start strapping yourself onto the table you’ve been sleeping on.”

“Mmmm…”

I continue to suck him off until his cum runs down my throat. I lick his dick clean, look up at him and smile. He puts his dick away and rubs the top of my head. “Good slut.”

We walk over to the table and I begin to strap myself in. Master helps with some of the straps and puts a ballgag in my mouth. He then wraps something tightly around my left leg. My leg goes numb as he gets his tools ready. He has a scalpel, sutures, and some metal thing which he plugs in. As my leg gets very numb, it feels heavy and starts to hurt. He leaves me alone for a few hours. I can see myself strapped to the table in the mirror on the ceiling.

When he comes back, he picks up the scalpel and starts to cut into my flesh. He slices a flap of skin on each side of my leg, pulling it back, leaving it connected right near the tourniquet. He then slices into me near the tourniquet, layer by layer. It hurts, but barely. Eventually, he slices through the tendons, finally separating my leg completely. He doesn’t even leave a stump. It still feels to me like it’s there, but completely numb. It’s a very strange feeling. Once my leg is put aside, he picks up the metal thing that was plugged in. “This is an electric cauterizing tool. It will seal the wound.” I can smell cooked flesh as he burns the joint closed. I can feel it burning me, but only barely. After that, he ties something up with the sutures. Finally, he closes the flaps he made earlier and sutures them to one another, closing the wound.

“I’m going to cut your leg into cuts of meat. It will be tasty, just like your daughter was. I’ll even let you have some. If you continue to be a good slut, I’ll do the same to another of your limbs.”

As he speaks, he pulls off the tourniquet. I feel a rush of pain where my leg was. I feel a painful, numb, phantom leg. Then he unfastens my other three limbs and removes the ballgag from my mouth. “Thank you, Master.”

He smiles and rubs my head again. “Good slut.”

My leg’s meat tastes great. Master lets me eat some, but eats most of it himself over the next week. During this week, my wound bulges a bit and flattens again. Master gives me a cane to walk with. It’s difficult to adjust, and I fall down plenty. He continues to use my slut holes at his whim. Meanwhile, he builds an odd toilet for me in the bathroom. It’s on the floor and has a rack to hold me in it. I don’t really fit though. There are also splash guards on either side of it and it’s equipped with a bidet.

Master repeats the process on my other leg after that week is up. Now I fit perfectly in that toilet’s frame. This is also where I’m expected to sleep now, so I do. It’s a bit easier to get around on my hands. I’m surprisingly light. I also don’t need to kneel to suck Master’s cock.

Another week later and he removes all my teeth. He also tells me not to speak anymore. He uses a blender on my food and spoon-feeds it to me. The same day that he removes my teeth, he comes home with another girl. He hangs her over the bathtub by her ankles and slices her throat. She screams briefly, but that’s quickly cut short. Master picks me up, sits on the toilet and fucks my ass, moving me up and down on his shaft as we watch the blood drain from her body. After he cums, he puts me back on my stand and leaves for a while. I watch the woman’s dead body as it finishes draining, swaying slightly. When Master comes back, I watch as he slices her into cuts of meat.

After another week, Master removes my arms both at once the same way he removed my legs. All of my limbs are now gone completely and were delicious, as they should be. There aren’t even any stumps. I can’t really move at all. Master takes me out of and puts me back onto my stand in the bathroom when he wants to use me. I’m just a toy. Three slutty fuckholes for his pleasure, nothing more.

Master continues to take me out to fuck me several times a day in whatever holes he wants to, wiping me clean with toilet paper first. He washes and shaves me when he takes his showers. When he needs to go to the bathroom, if he only needs to piss, he’ll use my throat instead now. If he needs to shit, he’ll bring me some food he’d prepared in the blender earlier and feed me while he goes. Since I’m not a person, he doesn’t talk to me anymore. I get my only enjoyment from when he uses or maintains me. He brings home more girls whenever he runs out of meat, but he kills them pretty quickly. He’s decided to keep me alive to use my slutty holes for as long as they’re still good.


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