Public Conversion

Kate had known that something was different before she had even got to the office.  It was the way that everyone, particularly her immediate colleagues, all found somewhere else to look as she crossed the lobby.  So even before she'd changed she'd looked at today's roster and seen her name and Identity Number listed.

Of course she'd known it was likely to happen, in fact she'd lasted longer than many of her college friends, but given that nearly all women shared this fate she couldn't really be surprised.  It was just that she hadn't thought it would  be so soon.  Still, she was a professional.  She wouldn't let anyone know how scared she was.  She believed that by acting normally she could avoid thinking about how she would end this day.  She wasn't surprised to find herself alone in the changing room

Kate drifted through the start of her shift, hardly noticing the crowds that jostled through the mall.  It was some hours later when Kate found herself standing in the shade of the Boutique that overlooked Exhibition Square, the usual venue for conversions.  In fact most people thought of it as the 'killing ground', but when the mall got it's licence for public conversions some of the surrounding stores had worried that being associated with such gruesome acts would harm their trade.  Of course they needn't have been worried as they'd underestimated the public's desire for bloody spectacle.  The planned monthly Public Conversions now took place on a near daily basis and the mobile facilities had almost become permanent fixtures.

So Kate was far from alone in watching the crowd, looking for the tell tale signs of someone making their final journey.  Oddly enough the most obvious sign wasn't the behaviour of the Pre-Conversion woman, it was the crowd that seemed to follow them.

One such was the tall blonde that hesitantly entered the far side of the square.  Even from this distance she recognised Cecilia, a year head from the local high school.  Kate knew Cecilia well from the truancy patrol they often did to try to keep the students out of the Mall and in class during the week.  But from the look of the crowd shadowing Cecilia's progress it was obvious that many of the students were bunking off to watch Cecilia's conversion.

When Cecilia reached the reception desk she presented her letter and photo ID to Mrs Lister, who ticked her off this mornings list.  Of course Mrs Lister didn't really need the photo ID as she'd been the local midwife for nearly forty years and had helped many of the convertees into this world.  It therefore seemed only fair that in semi-retirement she assisted them when it came time for them to leave.

Mrs Lister and Cecilia exchanged a few words before the young teacher walked over to the bins.  This was where the convertee could donate their remaining belongings to the local thrift store.  Cecilia was only wearing a rather plain white blouse and black skirt, her usual conservative teaching uniform, but some convertees put on their finest glad rags, hoping to go out in style.  Those were the donations that really helped the thrift store as shoppers would often crowd in looking for a bargain.

Cecilia quickly stepped out of her sensible shoes and deposited them in a bin, then she hesitated, the realisation that she was about to undress in front of a hundred strangers finally breaking her calm resignation.  But it was too late for doubts and some of the more forthcoming members of the crowd decided to help Cecilia, whether she wanted their help or not.  Not caring whether they damaged her clothes a couple of her students grabbed her arms whilst others tore at her blouse.  Cecilia instinctively struggled against their roughness, but to no avail and in a few minutes she was struggling to cover her breasts and bush with her hands.  The sight of a naked blonde woman on the killing ground was exciting enough, but the knowledge that she was a local High School teacher added an extra thrill.

But her students hadn't finished yet and one of them wrapped his school tie around her wrists, preventing her from trying to cover herself.  Then the rest of the students present rushed forward to have their photos taken with Cecilia.  It would be the last school photo Cecilia would ever appear in, but it would be one that would be treasured by all her pupils.

The photos taken some of men in the crowd stepped and took control of Cecilia, and her students moved off to the edge of the crowd.  It was traditional to walk the convertee around the square, giving everyone a good look at her.  Kate knew the theory was that it ensured that no potential convertee was trying to avoid their duty by using a substitute, but the reality was that many in the crowd took this as an opportunity to take advantage of the convertee. 

As Cecilia made slow progress through the crowd she would be groped by most of the men and a fair few of the women.  And it was not unknown for the convertee to stagger free from the crowd with semen dribbling down her thighs.  But not today.  Today some of the parents from the PTA were on hand to escort Cecilia so she completed her circuit of the square with no more than roughly squeezed breasts.

Re-entering the centre of the killing ground Cecilia had a choice.  There was the gallows, currently occupied by a still kicking housewife, the guillotine where they were removing the headless corpse of a young Asian woman, or the block.  Cecilia hesitated in front of the guillotine, before reluctantly turning to the block and the waiting headsman.  Kate could well understand her hesitation as the headsman didn't always manage to sever the head in one blow and the convertee might suffer the indignity of multiple attempts.  But it was clear that the thought of waiting for Mr Guillotine to be cleared was too much and Cecilia just wanted it over with.

Even now Cecilia had a choice as there was both an axe and block or a sword, but Cecilia didn't hesitate and knelt before the block.  Cecilia was clearly trembling as she waited for the headsman who seemed to dawdle about his task.  Of course some convertees wanted their final moments as an individual to be memorable so they no doubt appreciated the headsman's theatrics as he tested the edge of the axe blade by slicing a length of Cecilia's hair.  But Cecilia clearly wasn't one of those and the crowd could she her muscles rippling as she strained against the school tie then restrained her hands behind her back.

When the headsman touched the back of Cecilia's neck with the blade the crowd held it's collective breath, until the headsman's axe returned with full force to bury itself in the block.  The crowd cried out as Cecilia's head fell onto the sawdust coated floor.  Cecilia, the former High School teacher was now meat.

Kate carefully walked over to Hank's Butchers, hoping that no one would notice that her now damp thong was riding uncomfortably high, and went into the staff wash room to get refreshed.

Kate had often thought of how she would face this day, and now she knew.  She'd face it like every other day, by keeping calm and not letting anyone else realise just how scared she sometimes was.  It was just the thought of going out onto the square, putting up with all the taunts as she was processed.  Her entire life had been one of control, of being someone others respected.  But by the end of the day she would just be more stock in the meat cabinet.

Looking back at her from the mirror was the woman she'd always wanted to be.  Her uniform pressed.  Badge polished.  Even her shoes where buffed to a mirror like shine.  She thought of being stripped out on the square, the rough handling that would take place as she circled the square, and the final act that would reduce her to produce.  She couldn't change the outcome, but she would at least go with dignity.

Kate undressed, and then considered herself once more.  This was how she would go out of this world, 90 lb of prime femme meat.  She squeezed her breasts, satisfied with their firmness.  Even her abdomen was smooth, the product of many hours in the gym.  Twisting in front of the mirror she took a final look at her tight buttocks, and the bar code tattoo at the base of her spine that was her meat identity.  Unconsciously her hand went to the matching tattoo behind her right ear, a reminder that she'd carried since puberty that she was destined for the table.  She'd taken great pride in her body and soon complete strangers would be buying it by the lb.

She dressed once more.  This time she only wore her uniform.  Her bra and thong she stuffed into the bin, not wanting them to be an easy souvenir of her demise.  Her only clothing was now her uniform, and that belonged to Mall security.

She used the lip gloss from her bag to touch up her lips, then her bag went into the waste bin as well.  The only souvenirs anyone would get from her were going to have to be paid for over the counter.  She was ready.  Letting the wash room door close behind her she couldn't help but pause as she passed the restaurant where she was offered today's special, southern fried fingers.

"Come on Kate, they've got my special sauce."  Martha was the old matriarch that ran the restaurant, a loud 300 lb of lard that had been serving up femme meat since before it was legalised.

"Just this once."  She usually refused the offers, but now she didn't need to worry about the calories or cholesterol.  Taking a tray of fingers she sucked the meat off a pinkie, savouring the rich sauce that enhanced the taste of the meat.  It was a bit stronger than she expected, something that must have shown on her face.

"Don't you like the sauce?" Martha could get easily offended, and Kate didn't want her own meat to be discounted by 'mistake'.

"No, of course not.  It just tastes strong."  She made a show of stripping the meat off another finger, dripping sauce on her tie when she licked her lips.

"We're not like that other place, you won't find no beef here.  Just honest femme meat."

"No mame, no one would ever accuse you of that.  I've got to be going now, official business you know."

"Well you get back here after your shift and we'll feed you up you hear."

Making a show of licking her fingers Kate left Martha behind.  She would be back here in just a little while, but maybe not in the way Martha expected.  Licking the last of the sauce off her fingers she wondered whether the same sauce would be back on them after they were cooked?

Kate put the tray with it's now bare finger bones in a waste bin by the meat counter, and paused to look at the produce.  Looking over the heads of a couple of young boys who were giggling at the sight of a rosy pink rack she imagined her own breasts laying there on a Styrofoam tray. 

"Kate?"  She looked up and saw it was Larry, a boy she'd dated in college.  She hadn't realised that he worked here.
"Hi, how are things?"  She noticed one of the boys was staring at her own chest, and licking his lips.  He squealed when she cuffed him around the ear and ran off to his mother who was at the other end of the counter.
"You still with . . ." She couldn't remember what the girls name was.  A Nancy or maybe Nikki, something N.
"No, me and Susan.  Well things didn't work out. How about you and . . ."
"Not any more.  He's moved out west."  He leaned across the display and pinned a discount tag to the rack the boys had been looking at earlier.  The metal tag making her own breasts tingle in sympathy.
"That's too bad."  He moved some rump steaks nearer the front of the cabinet.
"Say are you doing anything on Saturday ?  There's the company picnic on and I can take a guest."  He looked at her with the puppy dog eyes that she'd found so endearing in high school, and so irritating in college.
"No sorry, I don't think I can make it."  Of course she might make it, at least parts of her might. 
"That's OK, I was just asking."  He seemed to lose interest and she took the opportunity to walk off.

The store was getting crowded with shoppers looking for last minute bargains so she cut down the back of the stalls where there was less chance of more awkward conversations.

Going past the rumbling mincing machines she paused to check her reflection in the polished steel.  Apart from the sauce stain on her tie she looked good.  Good enough to date or good enough to eat, that was a joke her brothers had always made.  Well now she knew.  The machines startled her with a sudden loud groan before settling back to their normal rumble.  No doubt someone's pelvis being reduced.

Stepping past the mincer she felt a cold draft up her skirt, a reminder that she'd discarded her undies.  She savoured the sensations, knowing that it would be one of her last.  With that thought she decided she'd best get it over with.

Kate watched as the crowd thinned.  Most of the shoppers going on their way, scouring the stores for their intended purchases.  A minority following the meat trolley carrying the blonde to the processors.  Kate turned her back on the people jostling for a better position in front of the long display window, walking instead towards the block.  Her cousin was spreading fresh sawdust, ready to catch the blood of more women in the afternoon session, and didn't react until she had almost reached him.

'Kate?" 

"I didn't recognise you in your uniform.'  Her cousin was dressed head to toe in the traditional executioner's black.  He looked very handsome, but then all executioners seemed to look good.

'I didn't know you would be doing the session here today, but I'm glad.'

He shuffled his feet, having suddenly realised who's blood the sawdust would be soaking up in a little while. 

There were some privileges to working for the Mall, and for the first time in her career she'd take advantage of her position.  Her cousin seemed to think the same as he didn't insist on her following in the footsteps of Cecilia and the countless women who had proceeded her.  Without any fuss  Kate knelt in the sawdust, for once not caring about the stains it might make on her uniform.  Unsure what to do with her hands she clasped them behind her back and tilted her head forward.  She felt him step forward, then the coldness at the back of her neck as he touched her with the edge of the blade.

Kate leaned forward slightly, looking down at the sawdust covered floor.  Her tie hung clear off her blouse, pointing the way for her head, then there was 'the noise'.  The collectively indrawn breath of the crowd.  She didn't feel the blade strike her neck.  The razor sharp blades progress through her spine, and it's bloody eruption out her throat drew scattered shrieks from the crowd,  Then in the last few moments as her head fell to the ground the pain struck, before she lost all sensations.  Her last thought was the realisation that she was now just meat.