EXTREME WARNING. This is intended for persons of 18 years of age or above. If you are not 18 then go away. EXTREME WARNING. This story contains descriptions of violence, snuff, eroto-cannibalism and sexual acts. Do not read if these subjects are likely to offend. EXTREME WARNING. In no way do I condone any of the anti-social behavior described in the story. This is an erotic fantasy, not to be confused with reality. Please reply by preference to the newsgroup, or failing that to grim_williams@my-deja.com The Feast of Purim By Grim Williams Series One, Part Three Neither of them were speaking. Guy. Esther. Both were silent. Guy was mad. Esther was mad. He felt he had a right to be mad. Why should he need to seek Esther's approval for anything? He was the man around here. And she, on the other hand, was jealous. And so, neither of them were speaking. Guy was fuming. How dare she! Esther was his sister, not his wife. He was a free man. He could do as he liked. Why shouldn't he walk with another woman if he wanted? Neither of them spoke. Esther wouldn't tell him, because she wasn't speaking, but she was aching inside. She loved him with a passion that wasn't proper for a sister. She always had done. And so they both sat in silence. Fidgeting. Guy smiled smugly to himself. That Virgo had certainly been something else. He remembered the absolute vision of her breasts, and how she'd smiled invitingly, uncovering them so sensuously and presenting them for him to see. Esther sat sulkily in the front of the motor. She sat still and stony faced, her body averted, glowering over her shoulder. She defied him to speak. She watched him place the Aquarian skull back where it belonged on the dashboard. He'd trawled through the mud of the pool until he'd found it, the very pool where that wonderful girl had exposed herself so prettily for him. The turn of her breast and the flutter of her eye was still so vivid in his mind. Esther had watched him carefully, paddling in the water. And her heart ached. God help her! "So why is this woman going to help us?" she asked reluctantly, cutting into the silence with a knife. "Pardon?" She frowned. "What's her name? I don't know: the bitch with the tits. Why does she want to help us? What's her reason?" Guy threw spit and venom at her. Fuck it, he thought. The bitch with the tits! He jumped out of the motor and slammed the door shut. God. He threw his hands into the air. "Why does there always have to be a reason?" he barked through the open window. "Why can't you just accept the way things are?" "Of course there's a reason," Esther screamed back, storming out, following him to the back of the motor. She wanted to hurt him, to kiss him, to love him, to hit him. God! "Fuck it, Guy. People don't help strangers out of the goodness of their heart. They have an angle." He bristled with frustration and ire. "Very clever," he snapped, hoisting a bag of feed into the back of the motor. He was seething with bad emotion. The bag flew like it was full of feathers. He stopped, his body sweating. "But hasn't it occurred to you that what's good for her, may also be good for us." Esther shook her head slowly, pouting at him, folding her arms expectantly. "Go on. Tell me how if you're so clever!" He picked up a second big sack of feed, flicking it across to the far corner of the motor and dropping it with a thump. He had bought three sacks of it, enough to feed both Esther and himself for several weeks if only they could get rid of those shitty dams. They were screaming at each other again back there in their cage. He could hear their shrill, raucous voices. But they wouldn't continue for much longer. He'd bought himself a remedy. If they didn't stop soon, he had tags in his pocket that would bring them to their senses. He smiled viciously to himself, quite hoping that they would keep up their noise. Esther too. Especially Esther. He'd do her too. Keep it up, Esther, he thought to himself. Keep it up. You deserve everything that's coming to you. "There's a chap up by the Castle," he said indifferently, carefully disguising what he was planning. He stepped forward, advancing casually upon his young sister. "Ruth, that Virgo, she's a Carcass of Fortune, a mercenary. She works there, by the Castle. The chap that sold her the contract runs a big butchery, all very posh and high class. Ruth says he pays top dollar for quality meat, no questions asked." He took another step forward. "Ruth, eh?" Esther repeated jealously, retreating warily, keeping at a healthy distance. Now he was really annoyed. Suddenly, he sprung forward, pouncing with all the athleticism of an angry cat. He grabbed hold of her retreating arm, pulling her into him. "That' right," he returned belligerently. "Ruth said it. Ruth. Ruth. Ruth. Is that what this is all about? What's wrong with me speaking to Ruth? Why shouldn't I go out with an attractive woman? It's not as though she's got a future. She's living meat and she knows and accepts it. Why do you have a problem with that?" She fought to escape him. "What's wrong with you, Esther?" he cried, full of frustrated passion. They scuffled, their bodies rubbing against each other. "Why can't you accept a gift horse in the mouth? If I can get the dams to him tonight, then he'll take them at 125 shekels per kilo. 125 shekels, Esther. Now shove that up your skinny little ass and eat it!" She pushed against his chest, trembling, her breathing heavy. "125 shekels?" she scoffed contemptuously, hiding the tremor in her voice. "You're a fool, Guy Nyrian. You thought she was serious? You're a stupid fool and I'm telling you, before long you're going to get us both sold to a butchery too!" Her heart was thumping and there was a terrible crushing sensation in her stomach. He was a volcano about to erupt. He was so angry. What was he going to do? She stared at him defiantly, playing Carmen to his Don Jose. She knew exactly what she was doing. "You're a stupid fool!" she taunted. "A fool, Guy. A fool!" His eyes closed to slits and his nostrils flared. "Fuck it, Esther. I've had enough of you. You're so stubborn. If I'm a fool, then you're an ass!" "You're the ass!" she goaded mercilessly. "And a real stupid ass at that!" He snapped, twisting her over his knee. Her head went down, and her legs swung up helplessly into the air. "I'll show you who's the stupid ass!" he menaced, pinning her down. She screamed, kicking and shouting. She felt his rough hand at the top of shorts and suddenly they were tearing. He'd pulled them down, her briefs too, over her hips and down to her knees. He had her butt quivering on his lap, naked and vulnerable to his hand. "How can you say no to 125 shekels?" he yelled, slapping her hard on her bare boyish ass. She kicked out at him, but her legs only connected with an old broom, sending it flying. He struck her again and again, venting his anger and frustration on her reddening buttocks, enjoying the sound of his hand whacking her quivering flesh. He kept going even after her ass cheeks bloomed and turned bright crimson. "Do you realize how much that works out?" he snarled at her. Whack! Whack! "If those dams come in at a weight of 250 kilos, that gives us a profit of over 30000 shekels!" "Stop it!" Esther yelled, pretending to cry. "Stop it, Guy. Can't you see what you're doing? You're hurting me." She could feel his firm cock pressing against her stomach and her heart sang. She was arousing him. It was working. Although it was embarrassing to have her clothes lowered to half-mast and to be at his mercy, it was also exciting. Just like the old days. He liked to smack her. He always had. She was making him hard. He struck her lower down, deliberately catching the sensitive purse of her pussy. It stung so much that she kicked out again. "Fuck you, Guy. Ouch! Nobody is going to pay us 125 shekels for those women! Nobody," she fought, wrestling with him, punching, trying to get up. You're just a stupid fool! Oh God!" He'd managed to get between her legs, striking her pussy lips just as she'd kicked. The pain radiated out from her cunt. How could he possibly do this to her? It was so humiliating. But her teats were rock hard and aching inside her ill-fitting bra, yearning for his touch. He stopped. "Have you had enough?" he queried at last. In reply, she slammed her fist into his jaw. Not yet, she thought. She wanted more. "People don't pay over the odds without good reason," she muttered through gritted teeth, crashing her elbow into his rib cage. "Why is this man offering so much, Guy? Why? Come on! Tell me. What were we always taught? If something seems too good to be true, then it probably is. Ouch! Oh God! Why would anyone pay us 125 shekels when they can buy girls from the market for half that. It stinks." She hit him again. She caught him on the face. That hurt. In response, he rolled her over so that her front was upmost, facing him. There was a cold, icy expression on his eyes. He was wondering whether he dared. Esther spat at him. He grinned, and it made her shiver with expectation. "You'll regret that," he promised, pinning both of her arms with one of his own and then wrapping his strong leg around hers. She struggled to escape, but she couldn't now, and when finally gave up, breathless, he grinned again. "Are you ready?" he teased, staring suggestively at the trembling space between her legs. "Fuck you!" she retaliated, vainly trying to get away from him. So then he hit her. He slapped her hard across her mound, catching her full on her most sensitive parts. She wailed in agony, trying to double up, to protect herself, but prevented by his enormous strength. He slapped her again, and again she screamed. "Have you been down to the market?" he asked, laying his palm more gently, and yet also somehow more threateningly across her throbbing aching cunt, feeling her silky black hair. "No? Of course, you haven't. But I have. Ruth took me. And do you know what I found, sis? There were only two dams there: two. And they were both ugly hags." His fingers wandered inside her tender slit. She gasped. "Looked like they were breeders. Both of them, huge pot bellied cows with tits that drooped to their navels." He lifted his hand; Esther tensed, prepared for the blow. Her cunt was quivering, ready to explode into the most beautiful of orgasms. "They were the pits," he said, watching her, his hand hovering. God, this was awful. When was he going to strike? How long was he going to make her wait? "Ruth told me that her owner - his name is Hegai - the one up by the Castle, he has a big order that he needs to fill. There's going to be an important feast in six weeks time. Ruth says that unless her number comes up in the lottery, that's where she'll end up. Don't you see, sis? Hegai needs dams! It's a seller's market. He's snapping up every dam under the age of thirty that he can get his hands on." Then he slapped her. It came. She came. She screamed, squeezing her legs tightly together. "God," she moaned. "Oh God. And you want to leave me here and go with your Virgo bitch, taking our dams into the Casbah! You're a fool. You are. You're a fool. A real fool, Guy Nyrian." She howled in anguish as he struck her again, forcing open her legs so that he could beat her open pussy with the full weight of his hand. He stared inside her, at her open wet cunt. "You'll change your mind when I come back rich," he growled, striking her right between the lips. She was so wet now, so very wet. The palm of his hand was dripping with her juices. She gasped, her mouth wide open and her eyes staring into the distance. "I've been there, Esther. It's a butcher's paradise. They have a stage, with an oven and a spit and a huge glass cooking pot. You've never seen anything like it. And there's a lottery, and the girl that loses the lottery has to get up on the stage and strut her stuff for the men sitting at the tables. She has to show them everything, absolutely everything. She does this sexy striptease, removing all her clothes, and much more. You wouldn't believe what those girls have to do: it's obscene! And then when she's naked and everyone's real excited, she has to arouse their appetites in another way, by preparing herself to be cooked. They grease their own hair and hose out their own insides. Some of them even have lines painted on their bodies so the punters know where to cut after the cooking. It's on the level, Esther. It really is. We're going to be alright." Esther spread her legs for him as open as she could. In her mind, she could see herself there on the stage, lying on a platter, prepared and ready for the oven, watched by dozens of men, all whispering, greedily making claim to the parts of her they fancied. "I want to come," she gasped, her eyes now closed. She shuddered. "I want to come. Please let me come." He pulled one of the tags that he had bought from his pocket. It was a small piece of solid-state about the size of a thumbnail. Her legs were wide open. The pink flesh of her pussy gaping its open invitation. His sister was destined for the oven, of that Guy had no doubt. He wasn't blind; she always reacted this way whenever the subject was mentioned. The prospect of being cooked excited and fulfilled her. She was just a little frightened; that was understandable. She just needed his help; that was all. He didn't disappoint. He plunged his finger deep inside her and at the end of it there was the deadly tag. "What are you doing?" she gasped, closing her legs around his fingers, panting from her orgasm. "Oh, God. What have you done?" But she was already too late. At the very moment that she realized that he'd tagged her, her juices were already dissolving the special coating around the device, activating its epoxy glue. It would set within seconds, fixing it firmly and forever to the soft slippery lining of her cunt, He grinned. Now she was truly his. Never again would they argue like today. "Yes," he said, kissing her tenderly. "You may come now. You may also come with me to see Ruth's owner. I'd like that. You may come with me to the butchery." She sighed, purring softly, recovering her breath. It wasn't so bad. Perhaps they had both got their way, after all. End of Series One, Part Three