Brain Food

A knock at the front door. The man waiting in the living room stood and opened the door to greet his guest. He embraced the elegant woman standing in the cool fall air warmly. It was a perfect October evening, leaves starting to turn their brilliant shades of red and gold and the faint smell of woodsmoke drifting from somewhere nearby. He invited her in and took her coat.

“I haven't seen you in a while, Sarah! It's so good to see you again. How's things?”

“You know, same old, same old. Business is good, there's always a demand for fresh ponygirls.”

“You ever figure out what to do with that one that just wouldn't break?”

“Honestly, I gave up and tied her up coated in pheromones in the dog kennel. I should probably check to see if she's still alive at some point or if she starved or choked on dog dick. If she's dead at least the dogs probably got a good meal out of her body.”

“Seems a little wasteful. She had some good hips on her, I would have used her as a breeding sow. Not like slaves are hard to come by though.”

“God knows that's the truth. So what's the plan for dinner tonight?”

“Come downstairs and we'll get started.”

She followed him down the basement steps and waited as he moved aside a bookcase near the bottom of the steps to reveal a heavy padlocked steel door. He unlocked the door, and they proceeded down the hallway beyond and into a room on the right.

In the room was a table with a long tablecloth on it, along with two beautiful, comfortable looking chairs. There was also a bank of machines on wheels along one wall, tubes and wires leading under the table. There was a strange lump in the middle of the table, presumably the endpoint for the machine connections. Sarah turned to her host and raised an eyebrow quizically. “Our entree. I want it to be a little surprise”, he reassured her.

They sat at the table across from each other. Once they had sat down, a door off to the side of the room opened, inviting the smell of cooking meat, and four naked slave girls, two holding glasses of wine, entered and knelt.

“You're the guest, so you pick your two to service you during the meal and I'll take the others”.

“Hmm...”

She pointed to a slim mocha-skinned girl and a blue-eyed redhead. “Those two”.

The slave girls made their way to each side of the table and placed a wine glass on both sides as the diners removed their pants. As they relaxed and enjoyed the feeling of warm, wet mouths and tongues on their genitals, Sarah began to sip at her wine before her host shook his head. “Just wait a moment”.

The door opened again, the smell of cooking meat again wafting into the room. A slave girl, wearing only an apron, enters the room holding a platter. Sarah couldn't help but stare at the two huge fresh cauterized wounds where the girl's breasts used to be.

As she set the platter down, her host and the girl's Master asked her to explain the dish they were about to eat. She began to do so as she removed the platter, revealing two plates, each with a smooth, round lump of meat covered in herbs and sauce.

“Several months ago, Master had my nipples removed in preparation for this meal, leaving only skin. He used hormones to induce lactation in me. Since the milk could not leave my breasts, they filled and became harder and harder and more and more painful. There was concern, since my breasts were so full that most of the veins were bulging out and even breathing was agony, that they would burst before the meal. The process would have to be restarted, as the sepsis would ruin the flavor of the meat. Thankfully, my breasts stayed intact. Today, they cut them off in the kitchen. They were roasted with garlic, parsley, and rosemary and served with a white wine sauce. The milk inside braised the meat, causing the meat to be fork-tender and melt in your mouth.”

She handed the diners each a small ornamental knife and held her forearms above each of their wineglasses. “Your wine pairing tonight is a 1997 Napa valley Cabarnet, mixed with my blood”. The diners each took their knife and made a near-vertical cut, enough to cause heavy bloodflow but not enough to be fatal with treatment.

As the blood poured into their wine, the slave grew paler and started to slump, the diners holding up her arms. The diners let go of her arms once they were satisfied. The slave thanked them for enjoying her body and turned to leave, but Master grabbed her arm. He studied to wound for a moment and pulled it to his mouth, starting to slowly suckle at it. He motioned for his guest to do the same.

Sarah normally didn't enjoy straight blood, but she obliged to be polite. To her shock, the blood was tangy and sweet, absolutely delicious. The two sat in silence for a few minutes, sucking the slaves lifeblood from her body and savoring it and the mouths on their bodies. Eventually, they pulled away, and with a nod from her Master the girl thanked them and wished them bon appetit before staggering off, clutching the wall for support.

Sarah turned to her host. “Some of the best blood I have ever tasted, and I normally am not a huge fan of blood. What are you feeding your slaves nowadays?

“Well she's a food girl, she's meant to taste good. I keep her on fruits, vegetables, honey, and beans for protein mostly. I wouldn't try just any slave I keep, I have a decent chunk of them on their own recycled waste plus nutrients and whatever cum I decide to give them. Doesn't exactly make prime-grade meat.”

“I'm jealous, your food costs must be so cheap compared to mine. Ponygirls need actual food to do the tasks they do, sadly.”

They continued talking as they enjoy the roasted breasts. Sarah talked about her business, her training difficulties, her irritating clients. She rarely got the chance to talk to other people involved in the slave business other than end consumers, so this was a refreshing change of pace.

Eventually, as they finished and sat sipping their wine and blood, savoring the girls still servicing them, slavegirls came in and cleared their dishes while more slavegirls swept in, bringing small pots of sauce and fondue on a cart, as well as chopsticks and small skewers. Puzzingly, one girl also wheeled in a large screen and positioned it off to the side, facing the diners.

“I guess this is for the main course?” Sarah asked.

“It is,” her host replied, “and I'm guessing you're curious what the screen is for”.

“I have to admit I am.”

He stepped back and ripped the tablecloth off. Underneath, the lump was revealed to be the top of a bald, heavily gagged slavegirl's head. The dome of her head poked through a hole in the table, exiting right above her eyes. Underneath, her body was strapped securely to a support so she couldn't move, wire and tubes exiting out of several orifices natural and artificial. Her head was rigged so there was absolutely no motion in any direction for it. Several cameras attached to the underside of the table were pointed at her face to at several angles. She stared straight ahead at the screen, struggling against her bonds and moaning through her gag. She had not been informed what was going to happen to her. Her Master took a remote and turned the screen on. On it, several photographs of highlights in the slaves life appeared. Her graduation. Her trip to Paris. Her sunny days spent on the beach. The slave's eyes started to tear up, and she bawled through her gag at the life she had lost.

A woman dressed as a nurse entered the dining room, a small metal tube in her hand. She came up to the table and bent over, carefully adjusting a dial on the tube. She presses a button, and a small humming sound started emitting from the tube. She carefully angled the device, and the girls sobs turned to screams as smoke starting rising from the skin, leaving a shallow black groove where the cutting laser had touched it.

The nurse continued to work her way around the slave's skull several times, slowly cutting most of the way into the bone. At this point, the slave was struggling as hard as physically possible against her restraints. If she was trussed just a little less carefully, she would have easily dislocated or broken something. As the nurse completed the last pass around the skull, she handed her Master what looks like a very small crowbar. The slave was reduced to shaking and sweating in fear and shock He inserted one end of the tool into the groove made by the laser and pried up. The top of the slave girls skull came off easily, and her body gave a single massive jerk. The nurse placed the top of the girl's skull in a bag of ice and took a scalpel in her hand. With the scalpel, she removed the tough meninges covering the brain, exposing the raw pink-and-gray tissue of fresh brain.

As she did so, Master explained the purpose of the screen. “It's two fold. First, to increase her suffering by reminding her that she's not only lost her life, she's also about to physically lose her memories. Second, it heightens the experience for us, since we get to see what exactly we're eating. What's especially interesting is that slaves that have lived rich, fulfilling lives have much tastier, richer, creamier brains due to increased neuron density. We aren't just eating the slave's brain, we're eating her memories, personality, and essence, and using them as fuel for our bodies. One of the purest forms of dominance.”

Sarah stared, awestruck. She had never had, heard of, or even thought of live slave brains, but she was deeply intrigues and looking forward to digging in. As the slave heard explicit talk of her brain being eaten, it cut right through her shock. She started screaming at levels that threatened to tear her vocal cords apart, but it did little through the severe gag. The slave girls still in the room started placing the sauces and sides and utensils on the table.

“A couple of things before starting. It's considered gauche to eat the front or back of the brain first, as those are the visual and cognitive centers of the brain. The goal is to keep the slave's mind aware of what's happening to it as long as possible as it's physically ripped apart. When we do start finishing off the brain, leave the area right behind the eyes untouched. I prefer when they're still pretty afterwards. And finally, leave the base of the brain untouched as much as you can. I want to keep the basic functions of the body alive for later. Now, if you want to start, we'll remove the gag and dig in.”

Sarah nodded enthusiastically. Master nodded to the nurse, who undid the locks holding the gag in place and removed it. She left, still holding the skull top in ice. The slave drew in breath and started a scream just before the diner's spoons hit her brain. The scream changed into a half-scream, half-gurgle, the cameras recording the vocalizations and her face as her mind was destroyed.

The two continued their friendly conversation over the groans and gibbering and gurgle and disturbing laughter coming from under the table. Her brain proved to be delicious. They picked away at it with spoons and forks. They took pieces with chopsticks and dipped them in fondue. They even roasted some pieces over a sterno on a small skewer like a kebab. As the remaining brain matter dwindled, and the slave began to make less noise and twitch and jerk less, other slaves entered the room and started the machines that would keep the body alive.

As they finished their meal, the diners leaned back and savored the experience for a moment, Sarah grinding out an orgasm against the mouth of one of her slaves. The nurse re-entered the room with the skull top. She sprayed the open head cavity with an antibiotic spray (at this point, any damage to the base of the brain was slack that would be taken up by the machines) and reattached the skull top with a quick-setting bone glue. The body was released from its bondage, and carefully maneuvered onto a gurney. The nurse and other slave girls wheeled the body and the machines attached to it out of the room.

They were headed towards the stable, where master kept his cows. Most of the necessary modifications had been done on this body during the process of hooking it up to the machines, but there were still a few things that needed to be done. After she had finished implanting electrodes into its vaginal walls, rectum, thighs, and asscheeks, the nurse took the body and started strapping it into its stable stall. It was laid flat facedown on a table with holes for its tits. It's thighs were brought up to be parallel to its back, causing the body's ass and pussy to stick out of a hole in the wall in the rear of the stall. The other side of the wall was accessible in Master's dungeon, meaning he could use the body's ass and pussy whenever desired. The electrodes would tone the body's dormant muscles as well as tighten both holes. Waste management was already taken care of by a tube coming out of its belly, so it was essentially a set of perfect, warm, wet holes.

The nurse finished strapping the body down securely and started its IV hormone drip. She placed small pumps on the body's nipples and activated them. She placed skin bonding glue on larger pumps and carefully positioned each breast and the attached smaller pump inside, making sure to fully encapsulate each. She activated the pumps, making sure the extreme suction was holding them in place as well as cycling correctly. Her job done, the nurse stood in front of the ex-person. She stared into it's dull face, empty eyes and slack mouth. She took its cheek and kissed it deeply. She swore she felt a slight twitch in response from the body's tongue. Probably just her imagination. Just in case though, she gave it an extended last makeout session. She idly wondered if kissing a body with no brain counted as necrophilia or beastiality or if it was just plain fucked up.

She pulled away eventually. She fed the feeding tube down the body's throat, past the breathing tubes already there. It would pump about 5000 calories a day into the body as well as more hormones. At its projected rate of production, it would need every last calorie.

After one last look into its eyes (“Fuck,” she thought, “She was hot. Wish I got my hands on her while there was still something in there.”) the nurse pulled the permanently bonding latex hood over its face.

She turned and slowly walked out of the room, casting appreciative glances as the many female forms in the stalls, all covered by the same black mask. Some of them had been brain damaged or otherwise useless slaves. The most interesting ones were the ones that became hucows fully intact. The fear, the desperation, the sensory deprivation rotting their minds away...fuck, it made her wet. She left the stables and walked past the long line of asses sticking out of the wall, pausing to give the new addition some oral attention. Not there was anything to appreciate it, but it made the nurse feel good.

Back in the dining room, the Master stood, pulling the girls servicing him up along with him. He walked over to his dining companion and helped her up, then pulled her in and kissed her deeply. As they broke the kiss, he stared into her eyes. “So...dessert in my bedroom?”. She nodded. Gesturing for the slaves under the table to follow them to their Master's bedroom, the group left the dining room.

Outside the Master's bedroom door stood the girl from earlier with no tits, bandages on her arms where her wounds had been. She smiled weakly, still faint and barely able to stand from blood loss. “I still have more service to provide tonight, Master.”

“Correct, but your performance tonight was excellent. Do just as well tonight, and you might not be snuffed until the idea interests me again.”. She bowed as best as she was able in her state. “Thank you Master.”

Master opened the door. “I think the Mistress and I will start out with tongue baths while we watch the footage from tonight”. As the seven people got onto the bed, the slave girls started with enthusiasm, determined beyond measure to not be the next one rigged to the table.