I love my job.

I mean, a lot of guys say that, but I really love my job.  But
then again, I don't have a normal sort of job.  I'm a meat grader
for an exotic meat company.  What that means is that I spend most
of my day grading slave women as to their "meat" status.

Of course, I'm not really grading for meat, I'm grading for hot.
Really, if you want to get good meat you want a fat sloppy bitch.
 But we all know, the reason why we even pretend to be into
eating slaves is because we want to see hot chicks on a spit, or
hanging by the neck.  The eating her after the fact is just the
excuse.

Before the White Slave Act of 2000 and the Alternate Meat Act of
2001, well, I suspect I would be one of those people that the
neighbors would say "he was a quite type" after they found the
dozen bodies in my back yard.

Which is not to say that there are any bodies in my back yard,
you understand.  By the time that the urges had gotten so strong,
well, I was being paid to snuff sluts.

Like I said, I love my job.

Let me give an example.  Last week, the boss comes by my desk. 
"Josh, I've got a bit of a problem.  We've got a client that
wants to have a multiple slave live spit at his daughters
wedding.  The problem is that it's going to be Saturday, and our
normal weekend guy is going to be out of town.  Can you cover
this for me?"

I think about it, for, oh roughly a millisecond.  He just asked
me if I would like to get paid time and half to snuff multiple
sluts.  Yeah, I can do that.

He gives me the contact information and wanders off.  I call Mr.
Allan Nicolea to make arrangements.  Once I talk to him, well, I
would have done this one for free, much less for time and half.

It seems he has twin daughters.  He told them that he was only
paying for one wedding, and that would be for which ever one of
them that got married first.  The other one would be enslaved and
sacrificed at the wedding.  Well, that explained one, but not the
multiple part of the order.  I also noticed he said sacrifices,
not roasted or any thing like that.  He explained that I would
understand everything when I got there.  Just make sure I had at
least 6 spits, and a dozen might not be out of line.

OK then.

Saturday morning, I arrive at the address given.  Mr. Nicolea
meets me at the door, leading a stunning red head on leash. 
"This is Dianne.  She's going to be the sacrifice  at Karla's
wedding.  Well, one of the sacrifices ."

Dianne, just for what it's worth, if she had been graded, would
get a grade of "A Prime", which means that if she had been sold
to pay for the wedding, instead of just being one of the snuff
sluts, she still would have a 95% chance of being spitted any
way.

"Please take her with you, and have her prepped on your machine
for immediate spitting after the happy couple enters the hall for
the reception."