FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Written by Choice Cuts Deli

Commission for NogardTnelis | January 2021 | 16081 Words

"Let's hear those sleigh bells jinglin' ring-ting-tinglin' too..." The green-striped raptoress Karazel smirked as she sung aloud to the festive holiday song that'd been stuck in her head all day. A little smirk crossed her snout as she stepped back a moment to browse over progress being made on the private holiday party she was hosting. It wasn't yet overly festive, with most of the decorations being cheap holiday décor and lights, but the open plan function hall she had rented for the event was about to become a canvas for her guests' darkest fantasies.

"Come on its lovely weather for a slaughter together with you." Karazel turned about in time to see her boar friend, and the party's caterer, Devin stepping up alongside her. The hybrid javelina smiled from ear to ear as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, brushing back her beautiful mane of black and green tipped feathers. "This is gonna be some party, huh? Eight deaths? Nine maybe? And that's just to prep for the evening."

"Mmmhmm. You nervous about getting your 'gift,' hun? You know the rules - you get one fantasy, your gift to share with the group. " Devin gulped at the pointed question, nodding a little as the arousal in his pants tightened up a bit, the understatement of the century calling his wanted death a 'gift.' Thankfully, the building was quite well outfitted with oversized cookware and prep stations, enough to handle the large number of meat that would be brought through to feed the party. Considering the whole of the private snuff chat was invited to attend, they would need plenty of victims to feed and entertain all the guests. It was nice that the building owners didn't ask too many questions. A little cleanup and there was no need to tell them that a large number of live people met their deaths at the holiday party.

"Only a little nervous... How about you? You're going to have a horrid time considering how much of your body you're giving away." Kara nodded and smirked, running her hands down her naked thighs and brushing softly over her vent as she glanced to the banquet table already set up next to the dance floor and bar. Either side of the table was flanked with implements of death. Two nooses were hung to the left and right of the table in order to 'deck the halls' well. A cold metal slaughter table had been set up on the end nearer the bar and catering stations, the open metal restraints waiting for the first victim to be strapped down and gutted table-side. Opposite the slaughter table, nearer the dance floor, stood a Saint Andrew's cross, as well as a set of restraints hanging from the ceiling, offering eager murderers a few places by which they could have a public fling with their lovers.

The quiet moment in setup was broken by a cacophony as two of the assistant slaughterers stepped through the wide double doors. The odd couple duo of Bactra the blue-and-yellow feathered nevrean and Partha the green-and-white furred sergal were living up to their reputation. Partha wore the clear frumpy expression of a man not having a good time. At first one might wonder if it was the work, or perhaps the sexual frustration at the unique infibulation he wore. Pierced through the sheath by a metal ring, a thin chain ran from there down to a guiche piercing on Partha's balls. This strange gential modification made it not just impossible but painful to get aroused. But that is, of course, how he liked it. A natural dominant, Partha wanted to ensure there was no choice for his partner but to submit.

Stepping inside, he gave a firm tug to the hempen rope he held in his clawed hands. The rope didn't have much slack, even less when the attendant murderer tugged it taught, tightening the noose ever so gently around the neck of the shyly nervous Turian attached to the other end. Kavus Kazian was always a happy and welcome member of the chat. It would be a shame to see him go. He looked about the room knowing that his last minutes ticked with each step. But even as he stepped forward, he was clearly proud despite his slender three-fingered hands bound tight behind his back, his thick cock swaying between his thighs, leaving behind the first of many dribbles of fluids that would coat the floor tonight.

"Sorry it took so long, Kara." Partha said with a smirk as he handed off the loose end of Kavus's rope. "SOMEONE decided their victim would look better with a bow tie rather than a noose." Bactra let out the first frown she's ever managed in her life - though it appeared to be more for comedic effect. Much like Partha, she too was infibulated, a series of interlaced rings sewed up her pussy lips from base all the way to the top, the piercings anchored at the top by a metal clitoral shield, ensuring there would be no penetration to distract from her sadistic streak. Disappointed in being told on, she flapped her fluffy arms up and down making her hempen rope wiggle in long sine waves as it thocked against the noosed victim on the other end.

"Mnnnn! NNNGH!" The recipient on the other end grunted and snorted through his nose as each thunk of the rope tightened the noose ever so gently. It was hard to tell exactly what Ar'iat was, the four-ish foot tall androgynous fennec demon was kitted out in a full set of gear, the leather tightly embracing their tender, rusty-red furred form. A tight-fitting hood jingled with little tinkles of padlocks, the cowl covering everything save for their nostrils. They were also fitted with an oversized gag, firmly locked between their jaws to ensure there wouldn't be back-talk from the cute little troublemaker. Of course, there wouldn't be any trouble; they signed up to become a willing decoration for the evening. Like Kavus, their little cock throbbed behind the clothes they were wearing, a skimpy green skirt and blue panties, both already a little stained with precum.

"Look, the pretty puppy needed a bow to go with their cute lil' skirt," Bactra squawked as she handed off the rope to Kara with a little grin, "I didn't want him to die without looking good doing it." Shaking her head, Kara gave a little pat to Bactra's headfeathers, the avian preening up a little, before she turned back to address Partha.

"Thank you both, dears. Can you please help Jasmine get the slaughter-ers ready? And, uh... don't let her know I've got plans for her too." The sergal nodded with a smile as he remembered the plan for Jasmine, glancing over at the bottle of chloroform, hidden amongst the other bottles of alcohol at the bar. The snarky dragoness hadn't even bothered to play along with the gift giving - she was only wrangled into working on setup for the chance to slaughter someone.

"Gotcha, can do. Hey Bacty, we got another job to do. Stop fondling the decorations." Bactra seemed heartbroken as she slowly removed her winged hands from Kavus's throbbing cock and Ar'iat's soft and rounded breasts, leaving them with a last goodbye as Karazel took over the decorating.

"Alright, let's get you both situated." The raptoress smirked as she led Kavus to the right of the table, tossing the grey fleshed Turian's rope over the rafter about five feet away from the empty noose already hanging. As she pulled it taught, the dino guided her soon to be suffocated victim to stand atop a simple wooden stool that she'd snagged from the back room. Up he climbed, the tall and lanky Turian nearly losing his balance once as he ascended. But soon, he stood there, proud and flagging between his legs, his head barely a foot below the rafter above. Once he was tied off, Karazel gave Kavus a little lick along his cock making him shiver and shudder visibly with need, toes curling against the stool. "I'll be right back to give you your Holiday gift, cutie..."

Next it was Ar'iat's turn, the little fennec even more unwieldy as their four-foot frame had to be lifted atop the wooden stool before they could have the other end of their noose secured. The little critter whimpered, their nose wheezing softly with each breath in and out as they nervously fluttered their membranous wings. Or, tried to at least. They were held firm in a set of restrictive binders which also ensured their multi-pronged tail kept out of the way and free from shifting the excited and shy demon about. Once she had secured the fennec tight, allowing only a half-foot of slack in the rope, the raptoress gave a little tease to her first victim of the evening.

"You might be a little light, hun, so I want to get you hanging early." Karazel chuckled at the comment, especially how it made her little snuff slut fenn fidget nervously in place, their bound arms squirming behind their back in anticipation. Turning back to Kavus to make sure he was watching, Kara intertwined her clawed talons on the wooden stool, putting just enough pressure on it to make the makeshift gallows tilt. But Kara couldn't help but lean in to whisper one last thing to her cutie, "Thank you, hun. Happy Holidays."

Ar'iat's nostrils flared as the world slipped out from under their body, the sudden loss of support causing the little fennec to gasp instinctively just as the noose tightened up and cut off their breath. As the stool came crashing down, they got over the initial shock of the short drop, eyes flared wide open behind the smooth leather hood as they began to kick and struggle uselessly at the end of the rope, padlocks jingle-jingling in a festive panic. Kara smiled, casually reaching down to play with herself as she walked the long and slow perimeter of the banquet table to reach Kavus's eagerly apprehensive body. The Turian's cock throbbed between his thighs with each passing second as he watched his counterpart begin to kick and struggle with a growing, airless panic. As their light weight finally caught up to them, the noose sunk into a tight cinch around the circumference of their neck, and excitement for death give way to burning chest pain and throbbing headache as suffocation started in earnest.

Kavus quickly found himself distracted as he watched the holiday decoration jingle about at the end of their noose, eyes turning down to watch as Karazel started to tease and toy between his lanky thighs ever so tenderly, her claw-tipped fingers exploring against his balls and shaft with a lusty little growl.

"Mmm... you're still hard, even watching them suffer." Kavus's eyes darted up to watch Ar'iat's struggles grow fevered, little legs kicking about in uncoordinated movements as the fennec's cock throbbed under their puffy skirt.

"This One is-" The words caught in Kavus's throat as he felt Kara slowly slip her mouth around his cock, dissolving into a deep and lusty groan as the raptoress began to suck off her Turian slowly and steadily. "Ahhh, Th- This One is s- So ready to die tonight." Snaking her tongue out, Karazel made sure to carefully polish the noose-eager Turian's shaft, working from base up to head, and back down again.

"This One won't get to see the New Year." Kara added with a smirk, mumbling around the Turian's cock before suddenly chomping down hard on her victim's shaft. A hot spurt of dextro-protein blood spattered out against Karazel's mouth, the thick and gooey blue fluid coating Karazel's normally green-scaled muzzle as she forced herself to bite down on the thick and aroused cock. It took a bit more force than she had expected, even knowing that Turian bodies are reinforced with trace amounts of thulium. But it only took a little more pressure to sever Kavus's fleshy anatomy, the throbbing member laying upon her tongue as her victim clenched his mandibles and cried out in the sudden pain of losing his manhood.

Wiping off the blue blood from her muzzle, Karazel stood, a taloned hand gripping firm at Kavus's hip to steady the pain-wracked Turian, his splaying toes and shifting legs threatening to knock his stool out from under him and ruin the fun a little too early. Using her free hand to withdraw the still-hard cock from her mouth, the end oozing hot dextro-protein blood down her chin, Kara shushed his whimpering gasps as she stepped around to the side of his body.

"Relax, hun. Focus on Ar'iat over there... They're putting on such a show for you to watch. And you'll join them very soon." Despite the throbbing pain in his gut, and the sudden sensation of his own fat cock being pushed torturously hard up against his tight ass, Kavus tried to focus his pain-wracked eyes upon the dangling Ar'iat, whose situation had become far more critical with each passing moment. The little fennec's struggles had begun to seize up, their frantic swing in mid-air reduced to panicked little flutter kicks. While it was impossible to see through their hood, Kavus could make out the darkening purple of airlessness creeping down the demon fennec's chest, lush breasts heaving in desperation as their eyes rolled back underneath the tight-fitting leather blind. A frothy mixture of drool and tears streamed down the little noose-slut's face, dribbling out from under the hood and dropping like jeweled beads to absorb into the cutie's skirt, drawing even more attention to the silver dollar-sized spot of precum welled up from the fennec's hair trigger shaft.

The distraction was short lived for the Turian as Karazel simultaneously reached her clawed hand up to Kavus's chest, plunging her curved raptoress claws into the fleshy part of his stomach just below the sternum. She was perhaps a little surprised that she could pierce his exoskeleton so easily, opening his gut up like a zipper until hot and glistening internal organs began to flop outwards. The pain unimaginable, Kavus sat backwards, losing his balance save for a little unexpected assistance from Kara holding his drooling cock firm against the Turian's asshole. As the stool tipped out from under him, Kavus felt himself speared upon his own cock as gravity took over, the sudden invasion of his tight hole the last thing he could feel before the noose tightened up about his neck. The location of the knot only helped keep Kavus focused on Ar'iat's final moments, dragging up on his head at a kinked angle as the lack of air caused his lanky legs to begin their dance.

The hood and binders prevented Ar'iat from seeing Kavus's short drop. But even as the blood pounded in their ears, they could hear the gentle squelch and flop of their hanged partner's gizzard and entrails spilling out like long strands of festive bunting. Even as the noises became more and more distant in the fennec demon's ears, they could no longer hold themselves back from the arousal they had, especially when listening to the soft slap of meat wet and eviscerated meat as Kara firmly fucked the Turian with his own cock. After allowing their legs to stop and hang for but a moment or two, Ar'iat's whole body convulsed in a rush of endorphins, dying hips bucking as their cock spurted hot cum down their thighs with the force one would expect from a once in a lifetime fuck. Kara even paused her work on Kavus momentarily in order to watch the show, a hot flood of semen stopped by panties and skirt alike, dribbling down her little fennec's legs and pooling on those dainty, dying toes before dripping uselessly to the floor. The little bound form gave one final jerk, perhaps an aftershock of afterglow, before finally and calmly coming to a quiet stillness, the body no longer able to move. Every second that passed now would be a countdown. And at this party, nobody was going to call 911.

Kara got a rush out of watching Ar'iat's passing when Kavus managed to twist himself sideways as he swung. As airlessness set in, his bound arms managed to cuff Kara upside the head, his frantic leg kicking just missing her stomach by an inch. A misplaced kick might even ruin one of her friend's gifts if he wasn't careful. The raptoress wrangled the kicking table-scape, gripping the Turian tight around the waist, holding him steady while giving him a few last pumps with his own cock before withdrawing the flaccid and blood-limp shaft from his taught and tensed hole. Gripping the fleshy remnants of his cock, she pried open her noose-slut's purple-tinged mandibles and forced the severed cock in as far as she could, ensuring that there was no space for air to enter his rapidly constricting throat. Taking a step back to admire her work, Kara watched Kavus's eyes bulge, the weight of his lanky body weighing him down enough that the rope began to visibly pry apart his vertebrae. It was gorgeous, it was practically festive the way he swung on the noose, guts flaring out like garland with every fighting kick.

But before Kavus could perish, Karazel caught the gentle jingle jingle of Bactra's infibulation piercings jangling through the double doors of the room, a broad smile on the nevrean's face as she tugged along the next victim into the room. Syrinx didn't need any accoutrements to keep him eager for his own death. The red crested and wing-tipped golden eagle proudly sported a hefty cock between his legs as he walked rather lazily into the room. Smirking as he wandered past a struggling Kavus, the Turian's eyes slowly upturning in the throes of his suffocation, the eagle let out a little squawk.

"Didn't think we needed to make Kavus any taller, but guess he wanted a few extra inches to his neck." The bird gave a little nudge to Kavus's swaying and dying form. He could feel the tense, lactic acid filled thighs of his now ex-friend against his clawed talons, any movement coming from his body autonomous and stuttering. As Bactra took Syrinx by the arm again, her pussy piercings jingling once more, Devin couldn't help but chuckle as he heard the rhythmic tinkle of metal, the boar licking his lips as he started honing up a set of butchery knives for Karazel and Jasmine to use on the next victims, striking the steel in time with the rhythmic clatter of her sewn up pussy.

"Alright, menu tonight's got a few options," the boar said with a smirk, licking his lips. "First up there's going to be a chicken option for the meal." Syrinx smirked as he was led over to the large slaughter table, sitting his feathered rump down onto the cold tabletop.

"Watch it, pork chop, I know you're eager to join me on the menu tonight." Devin couldn't help but give a little wink as he set the last of the butchery tools down on the table next to the eagle.

"Mmm, you know it, hot stuff, and to keep things kosher, you're going to be roasting on a spit above me, so best make sure you bring your best juices to mix with mine." Giving one last parting tease to Syrinx's shaft, the boar stepped away to ready the cookware and start the massive oven pre-heating, leaving Kara and her assistants to take care of the slaughter.

Of course, as asked, Bactra was carrying up the rear of the next procession, goading along Karazel's other assistant for the evening, Jasmine the dragoness. The beautiful white-scaled girl seemed a little displeased being dragged out from the back rooms onto the butchery floor, fluttering her rainbow-colored wings behind her back as she passed the cum-dripping corpse of Ar'iat, giving the decorative fennec a shove to one side so she could watch the little fox sway lifeless and still. Partha excused himself once Syrinx was settled, eyeing over to the bar where the bottle of chloroform he'd ordered was set out amongst the other bottles, left within reach. The little red-scaled kobold bartender Dud Bass noticed this and gave a little thumb's up to Partha, needing to edge up on his tiptoes on a step ladder to be seen over the various bottles on the average-height bar. It was nothing like his usual tavern, but he was taking it in stride.

"Kara, you've got such a tacky sense of design," commented Jasmine with a little smirk, her hips giving a little sashay as she flicked her tail back and forth behind her, the blue patch of scales on her toned belly crimping at the midriff a little with each sway.

"You don't like my festive cheer, Jasmine?" Kara couldn't help but eye up and down the cute dragoness. While Kara's official gift for the evening was a long and drawn out bleed, skin and gut, she had been eyeing a little consolation prize from her dragoness assistant. She'd always been a bit of a brat, a little snarky even if she was willing to help with the snuffing and party prep. But her gorgeous pelt and wings would make a prize decoration for the tabletop. Perhaps even her head could be placed between the main dishes to add a little flair to the décor.

"I dunno, there's just something about it. Tawny fennec fur, and," Jasmine smirked as she reached out, putting her weight on Kavus's twitching body until an audible crack was heard, the already purpled corpse suddenly spasming for a few final uncontrolled twitches as the last, quieted gurgles faded from ear, "Blue Turian flesh? I don't think these colors were the ones picked out for Christmas this year."

"It's a holiday party, hun, will you just roll with it? And help me get this big turkey tied down?" Kara rolled her eyes, ushering the oversized chicken to spread his legs while Jasmine went to work spreading the wings, getting them settled into a spread-eagle position on the slaughter table.

"Geeze," he said with a little gulp as Jasmine lowered his head so a tight fitting metal shackle could slip around his neck, forcing him to stare up at the ceiling. "You aren't kidding about this being the real deal."

BRRING-BRRING! Behind the bar, the phone started ringing, unfortunately hanging on a wall off to the side and out of reach of the bartender.

"Of course not, chickadee." Added Karazel with a little smirk, giving his eager cock a little flick with her fingers, "No expense spared for the ones who'll die tonight." Gripping the carving knife in her hand, the raptoress gave a little smirk as she began to draw and trace it over the sweet avian's body, his flesh tensing up as he felt the thin blade nick through feathers and tease thin red lines into his flesh. "I'm surprised you didn't want to be gutted and trampled like you usually do in the chat..."

BRRING-BRRRING! Dud Bass was grumbling as he had to reposition his step ladder, carrying the metal framed steps by hand as his little legs hurried to catch the phone.

"W-well, I wanted to... uh... to be a little more useful than just a stain on the floor of useless entrails." Karazel smirked as she stepped to the side of Syrinx's body, giving his tender cock one last kiss before pressing the blade down onto the hefty and stiff bird's shaft, lining it up just right so the blade would slice along the length of the big bird with one firm slice.

BRRING-BRRRING! Dad Bass took the first two steps up his ladder like a champ, until he hit the third wrung of the ladder. A moment later he became tangled up in the phone cord, catching his foot upon the metal wrung. As the ladder came crashing down, he let out a sudden yip of surprise, the phone bonking him hard on the head as he hit the floor.

"Will someone PLEASE get that godda-" Jasmine growled her frustration out in an exacerbated demand, digging her claws impatiently into Syrinx's cheeks while trying to hold his head still. Her frustration was suddenly cut off by a horrid screech from the eagle's beak. Karazel began her slice, starting the knife blade on the tip of his cock, her hand holding the shaft stiff as she bifurcated the tender flesh from the head on down while the eager eagle began to scream and cry aloud. Reaching the base of his cock, Kara took a bit of a flourish, the agonized bird half-throttling against his neck restraint as the knife tilted down through his taint. Finishing off the penis root, Karazel jerked the blade upwards, slicing a shallow cut that pierced through the abdominal cavity at just the right depth.

Syrinx gasped, his head dropping back against the slaughter table as his body wracked with pain. His feathers fluffed and elbows flapped against the table in horrid reaction to the fiery line being zippered up his belly, from pubic mound all the way to breastbone. Despite the being unable to see it, the bird could feel the progress of the blade as it passed up his body, groaning as he began to go cross-eyed from the realization that his guts were wide open to the world. Tapping the breastbone, Kara set aside the knife and began to root around in the bird's abdominal cavity, gripping with impunity as she dragged coiled intestines and solid organs over the wound's edge.

"Um, uh... Miss Kara?" Dud Bass, the little kobold bartender had pitter pattered his way across the slowly guts-and-fluid-slickening floor, almost looking a little shy as he stepped past the hanging corpses before giving Kara's leg a little tug. "I um... just talked to the um... the guy who ordered the chicken dish tonight?" Dud Bass blushed as he pointed up to the slaughter table to make his point.

"Hmm? And?" Karazel said, turning her attention down to the kobold, her hands filled with entrails from the crying and bucking chicken-to-be.

"He's... uh- he's not coming tonight, so he... wanted to cancel his order." Kara's face immediately dropped as she heard the realization that her poultry dish was no longer needed for the meal, her hands squeezing the gooey offal tighter as she tried to process what this meant.

"We, uh... we don't need Syrinx for the menu tonight?" Turning to Devin, the boar was already trying to peek over his menu for the evening, shaking his head in agreement to her assessment.

"Nah, nobody else wanted chicken, though we uh... I was looking over the menu again and I think we're gonna come up short on something else." Kara stood up straight, letting Syrinx's guts drop down over the side of his gut as she realized something was very off about the evening's recipe. Despite the screaming of her soon-to-be-dead victim, she turned to her caterer with a fallen crest and snarled.

"D-Devin... what do we not have enough of?" The boar gulped as he felt the heat in the kitchen.

"Uh... Old School White Meat, actually... You're pretty hefty, Kara. But your brother Nogard didn't volunteer, and a few more folks are still looking for reptile meat."

As Syrinx screeched, clenching his talons on the table, Kara found herself turning towards Jasmine for an answer to this problem. Behind her, Bactra and Partha were quietly waiting for their next orders, the sergal fingering the bottle of chloroform waiting upon the bar while the nevrean had her feathered fingers happily swiping the last olives from Dud Bass's now mostly brine jar. Partha was, of course, much more focused as he made a few gestures, trying to ask if now would be a good time to take down Jasmine. But Kara gave a gentle shake of her head, letting Jasmine speak instead.

"Well," the snarky dragoness began with a smirk as she peered over her shoulder to see the frustrated Dud Bass trying to untangle his step ladder from the phone cord. "looks like we need a SMALL platter of dino meat, or dragon meat... or something close." Kara didn't need to be told otherwise, her clawed hand quietly reaching out to release Syrinx's legs from the slaughter table, the bird gasping as one, and then the other leg was released from their restraints. His body kicked wildly about from the agony of being gutted and the humiliation of realizing his torture was all for naught.

"P-please! Please I... You- you ca-" Jasmine finished the job, popping open Syrinx's wrist and neck restraints before giving a solid shove to the flailing and struggling bird, forcing the poor thing to fall off the table and onto the floor in a puddle of spilled guts and struggling meat. Before he could beg, either for a mercy kill or an ambulance, Kara planted her foot talons hard onto his coiled intestines and slit-open belly, a smirk on her face as she put her weight down, talons curling on the eagle's guts and flesh alike. Syrinx's eyes widened, watching as his lack of muscle tone on his slit belly meant she caved in the eagle's midriff under her weight. A gooey mixture of gut contents, intestines and bloody flesh rended under her feet as she stepped on top of him. The eagle let out a horrid cry as he watched viscera both squish and smear underneath Kara's taloned footpaw, only to watch her lift it and plant it hard against his beaked face, his own mashed chyme and flesh leaving a beautiful smudge against his cheek feathers.

"Why...? Who still has a corded phone anymore?" Dud Bass growled to himself in his soft, slightly nasaly kobold voice, sighing as he finally gave up on disentangling his step ladder from the phone. Turning around, he bumped right into the imposing Karazel's knees. "Ooof! Oh... um, hey, Kara. Mind giving me a hand here? Or maybe getting a few more chairs to climb up on?"

"Actually, I think I'm going to need your help over by the slaughter table for a moment, if you got a sec." Karazel smiled broadly to her pint-sized bartender as Jasmine stepped around the other side of the bar, ensuring he couldn't bolt.

"Uh... s-sure? I dunno what I can do to help, though," the kobold said with a wary little smile, following along to the slaughter table. He was careful to pass by the now screaming Syrinx, who received one last stomp upon the inside of his gut cavity, smearing his pancreas on Karazel's clawed feet and crying aloud a the pressure began to dislodge some of his vertebrae from his spinal column, causing his chicken thighs to twitch and spasm in uncontrolled ways.

"Mind your step, Dud, just over here." Jasmine snuck up behind the little kobold, as much as you can sneak when you're also trampling upon a living eagle's plied open belly, the bird squawking as the dragoness stamped over his chest and guts to get behind her target. He only noticed once she'd slipped her hands underneath his armpits. The little kobold was yanked up off the floor, legs kicking as he was thrown down onto the blood drenched slaughter table.

"H-hey wait, I- ACK!" The poor little kobold suddenly felt the hands of both Karazel and Jasmine falling upon him and stretching his small frame to the fullest distance possible. As the bartender struggled, growling and snorting his little panicked yips, the pair had to detach the restraints on either end, sliding them inwards along their tracks until they met the little yipping dragonid's ankles and wrists alike. Despite his best efforts, the poor thing felt each shackle close about his body, sealing his fate as he lay still and struggling. "You- you can't! I- I didn't sign up for this!"

"Eh, you've seen too much anyways," Devin interjected with a smirk as he came by the table, taking a rough measurement of Dud Bass's body with his hands, starting with the length, and then giving a rough measurement of his rump, "...besides, if we're not having rotisserie chicken for dinner, we might as well have a short stack turning on the spit." The boar chuckled as he gave a little prod to Dud Bass's rump, nodding at the 'size' of the entry point, and gave a parting little open to his mouth to make sure he'd fit. "Yeah, inch and a half rotisserie spit ought to do. He's all yours, girls, thanks for being flexible on the menu!" Devin said with a little parting grin, leaving a confused and horrified Dud Bass yipping and growling out unhappily upon the table, until he was eclipsed by the looming forms of the raptoress and dragoness.

It wasn't them that worried him, however. It was the skinning knives they carried that caused him to immediately clam up with a little whimpering yip. Kara began to casually tease the knife against Dud Bass's scaly flesh, running the blade slow along the length of his inner thigh while Jasmine stepped around to cradle his head between her bosom, her own flensing knife gently pressed against the supple flesh of his mouth.

"Relax, cutie, it won't take long." Kara smiled as she took a moment to slip a few tourniquet bands around the little dragonid's wrists and ankles, tightening each one down to ensure that blood loss wasn't going to be too severe when his extremities were taken. Once ready, she nodded to Jasmine to go ahead. The dragoness pressed the blade in, splitting the flesh along his jaw line and working backwards from the kobold's mouth. As the she held his jaw still, working her knife and fingers between skin and meat to start separating the flesh, Dud Bass felt the horrific sensation of his thigh being split open like a zipper, the bulging fats and meat underneath helping to separate the skin off the living carcass.

"It's nothing personal, hun, you're a great bartender," Kara said with a smirk as she carefully worked the knife underneath the kobold's skin, using her fingers to guide the thin yet tough pelt off the meat below, flesh on fire as he felt his left leg being stripped of its protective outer layer. But it was the work that Jasmine did that caused him to scream, the horror of feeling his face flensed off the tender meat below, feeling someone else working their hands just beneath your features to remove what makes you truly you. And the dragoness was taking an almost perverse pleasure in skinning the little kobold, even planting a soft kiss on the quivering cheek meats as she peeled back Dud Bass's face like a glove, before taking the knife down his chest, splitting him open as if he was an autopsy patient. "Well... were a great bartender. We just need a little more scaly meat for the menu tonight. And besides, I'm sure my bro can hang out behind the bar if I convince him."

Almost on cue, perhaps a factor of holiday magic, or perhaps just the mention of his name brought a burning to his cheeks, a male raptor who looked an awful lot like Karazel, stepped into Dud Bass's view, putting his arms around his sister as she worked to unwrap the second leg from the pelt that surrounded it.

"Might be a little busy, Sis, I've gotta help out with the slaughter after all." Nogard the raptor smirked as he planted an affectionate kiss upon Karazel's cheek, giving a little wink to the yeowling and crying kobold on the table, his extremities tensed and coiled tight as they jerked and spasmed in their restraints. The initial pleas to be released quickly devolved into horrid screams as his pelt was removed inch by inch, turning his beautiful scales into a wet and blood-soaked mat. But as Jasmine worked to finish up his upper arms, she couldn't help but perk her ears up at Nogard's comment, a little smirk on her face.

"Help with the slaughter?" Jasmine asked curiously, trading her flensing knife for a meat cleaver, almost casually gripping the kobold's twitching and struggling hand with her own before raising the knife and bringing it down hard upon the little dragonid's wrist. Dud Bass screeched as, in an instant, his hand was removed from his arm, the taloned little claws instinctively curling as the last synapses fired off and died. "I thought you said you had enough folks to help out with the slaughter work, Kara?" Nogard gave a little glance down to his sister, who was busy working on removing Dud Bass's sensitive ball sack, being careful not to nick either of his delicate testicles as she peeled back the outer layer like an orange. With a little smirk, Kara glanced back up to Partha, furrowing her brow as she watched him trying to wrestle away the platter of cocktail garnishes that Bactra was greedily shoving into her mouth. As he finally wrested the few remaining orange and lemon slices from his fellow assistant, the sergal finally caught eyes with Kara and gave a quick smile and nod of approval.

"O-oh!" Bactra gasped, still chomping down on a juicy lemon slice when she was shoved away from the bar, putting the plan into action. "There's plenty of people to slaughter, Jasmine! We're going to need lots of help tonight!" The nevrean grinned, preening up her feathers to look as cute as possible as the dragoness finished bringing the cleaver down on Dud Bass's remaining hand, taking a second chop to sever the hand from the poor little creature. "Why, uh... why don't... shit... oh that's what I was supposed to say!" Partha's eyes audibly rolled in his head as he swiped a few bar napkins and the bottle of chloroform. "You should come over here and help me take a look at the cross and restraint points, so we can make sure they're ready for the guests to use too!" The dragoness paused for a moment, scraping the knife across the table to separate the now-dead hand from Dud Bass's flayed and skinned corpse, before shaking her head.

"No." Bactra gulped as the entire plan fell apart with just one word, the stubborn dragoness having to raise her voice above the screaming kobold's pleas, "Go ask your friend to do it, I'm busy." Placing her cleaver down on the table, she picked up a thick rubber ball gag, stuffing it hard into the dragonid's mouth so the soft rubber blocked his jaws tight. "There we go... shhhh, no more tears, not until it's time to roast, sweetie."

"But JAAAAS!" Bactra had collected herself just long enough to try and come up with a new idea. "You should, uh... you should make me a drink! You're really good at it, and he's not..." Glancing at the table, Dud Bass's bloodshot eyes were barely able to move to look at Bactra, due to the flensed facial muscles, "Feeling so good right now... uh, but first you need to wash your hands, yes! Very important, hygiene." Jasmine turned to look at the blue and yellow avian with trepidation, even starting to fold her arms in defiance when Bactra pulled out her secret weapon. It was impressive how sad and puppy-eyed the little bird could manage, especially with the limited range of movement a beak tends to have. But it was just enough to tip the scales, the dragoness sighing as she leaned down to pat and pet Dud Bass's skinned face softly, eliciting a renewed shriek from the kobold. Despite all the torture he'd already been through, his nerve ends were still extremely sensitive to the touch.

"I'm gonna leave you in the capable hands of Karazel, my lil' rotisserie chicken." Karazel gave an appreciative nod for Jasmine's help, her hands still busy working her way through the last foot, removing it just below the tourniquet, and getting ready to open up the little skinned kobold's gut. The dragoness turned on her heels, only slightly put out by the interruption of her fun, and followed Bactra over towards the bar, the nevrean happily turning on the faucet and giving a splash to the water. Singing a tune to herself, she hummed along to her own happy words.

"Gonna give a wash! And gonna give a scrub!" Jasmine was, predictably, not into it, swiping a bottle of whiskey and slugging from it directly to steel herself against Bactra's silly way, before starting to wash her hands. Shaking her tail feathers, Bactra continued her song rather happily, "And then we're gonna gut and chop a dra-gon!"

Jasmine paused midway through sudsing up her hands, her brain clicking over momentarily as she put two and two together. But it wasn't quick enough as Partha threw himself onto Jasmine's back, clasping his arms and legs around her body while slapping a chloroform-soaked wad of bar napkins across her face.

"H-Hey!! Let me go! Get off you flea bitten appetizer... Mnnnpfh!!" Gasping, Jasmine began to struggle, thrashing about with as much strength as she could muster before the chloroform kicked in. Ever helpful, Bactra gave the dragoness a firm shove, causing her to stumble backwards and careen across the event floor in a panicked struggle. Syrinx had finally managed to drag himself up by his arms against the slaughter table, reaching up to plead for help from Nogard, when he was bowled over by the thrashing dragoness. Jasmine's wild bid to throw off the sergal managed to mash his spleen and one of his kidneys into paste on the ground, while tangling up her legs in his intestines, dragging them out in an almost comical way, like a clown pulling scarves from their mouth.

But guts would only go as far as they were long, the coiled offal finally reached its maximum tension as the rest of the digestive tract, stomach and esophagus reached its limit. Acting like a trip wire, Syrinx was hauled by his own guts onto his side, a weighty anchor that sent Jasmine falling face first onto the floor, just as the chloroform began to kick in and spots began to grow before her eyes. Kara just smiled, shaking her head as she casually finished off gutting Dud Bass, pulling handfuls of slimy guts and offal from the inside of his abdominal cavity, leaving the little kobold feeling empty. It was almost kind, the way she massaged the inside of his empty gut, feeling about for any untied blood vessels, before releasing the Kobold to the evening's chef. All the while, Partha wrestled with the fading last struggles of his next victim, shyly even grinding his hips against her as he felt the last little struggles fade from the dragoness.

When she finally came to, Jasmine groaned as she felt something soft and supple kissing her cheek, tender and almost caring the way it tickled her. That is, until her confused eyes began to blink awake, a rush of blood pressure thumping in her head as she saw an upside down, excessively happy, black-iridescent scaled, four-legged dragon lolling his already guts-scented tongue out of his mouth to give Jasmine another lick. Of course, it wasn't the dragon who was upside down, as Jasmine would quickly realize that she was hanging from her ankles from the two straps on the ceiling, arms and legs spread eagle and taught as she sputtered and shook her head about

"Ughhh! Pffft! Shoo! Shoo Anabsit! Git! Get away, your breath smells like guts."

"Kavus's guts to be exact!" Anabsit growled with glee, the four-legged beast growled with a low rumble before giving another lick to her face, leaving a blue smear of dextro-protein blood on her cheek.

"He got in when we opened the door for Hikaru. The cutie was gonna be begging for scraps all night if we didn't! Just looooook at his smooshy face!" Bactra grinned as she rubbed and pet the feral beast, the dragon's eyes rolling back in his head at the attention.

"It's nice to see you too, Jasmine. Don't worry, I know your meat's poisonous, I'll stick with chowing down on Syrinx for an appetizer.

"Guh blllpfh! Le-let me go, I don't care about the stupid dragon, I'm NOT on the menu!" Jasmine finally collected herself to yell as she felt her ass get slapped from behind, Partha giving one last check over the restraints, the sergal chuckling as he brushed over her wings with his hand idly.

"Maybe you should have brought a holiday gift to swap. You knew the rules for the party... But it's alright. There's a gift you can give Karazel. This pretty pelt, your wings and your head will make a lovely table scape to serve the meal on..." Leaning close over to her head, picking the side that wasn't covered in dragon slobber, Partha whispered gently, "And you'll be gifting Nogard the gift of killing you. How nice." One last parting pat on her cheek and Partha gave a wave over to Kara and Nogard that their gift was ready.

The raptoress and her brother were happily chatting with Hikaru. The one-armed, intersex albino ferret gal was taking a moment to grope up Kara's belly, her fingers prodding and teasing against the raptoress's midriff, feeling the swollen ovals of eggs inside her oviduct and womb.

"They're feeling pretty ripe," she said with a smirk, licking her lips at the thought of each succulent little raptor egg she could chow down upon. "How many do you think you got in there?"

"Oh, I'd guess six, maybe seven? I tried to make sure they were as ripe as possible for today, took plenty of vitamins. Besides, the whole womb is yours, should be fun to get to play with my natural sack."

"Aye, it's a sweet gift that you thought of my eating habits, Kara."

"Not like I'll have much use for it when I'm done, and besides, I bet you'll love taking it out by hand." Kara smiled as she offered Hikaru her hand, beginning to lead her over to the large Saint Andrew's Cross next to the struggling and growling Jasmine. "Well well, comfy there Jasmine?"

"You... You can't do this to me! I didn't ask for this!"

"Oh hun, it's too late for that. Besides," the raptoress ran her hand slowly between Jasmine's thighs, easing the clawed tips of her fingers between her pussy lips and toying with the warm and juicy flesh. "You don't seem entirely displeased, do you?" Jasmine just growled, wrenching herself back and forth futilely in the restraints, shaking her head as she growled at the intrusion into her pussy, clenching her eyes as she tried her hardest to not give Karazel what she wanted. But after working her fingers into the tender folds, caressing gently, the raptoress could feel her fingers growing more and more moist. "Mmmm... there we go... relax and enjoy it."

There wouldn't be much relaxing as Jasmine felt the firm grip of Nogard's hand pressing against her belly, giving a rub up the side of her midriff and tracing his taloned claws against her inner thigh. But rather than an invasion of her snatch, the dragoness gasped as she felt the blade of a sharp flaying knife, still coated in blood from both Syrinx's and Dud Bass's guttings and processing.

"N-No, please, please Nogard, d-don't... You don't ha-ah! AHHH!" Music to Kara's ears as she listened to Jasmine turn from begging to screaming, her brother carefully slipping the blade into the sensitive flesh of her pussy, carving up and down the length of her lips to begin the skinning process. Kara just smiled, fingering herself off to the side as the upside-down dragoness was slowly flensed, starting with her most tender parts and working outwards from there. But just as Kara allowed herself a moment to pleasure herself, teasing two clawed fingers into her supple vent and exploring the tender flesh, drinking in the sweet sounds of Jasmine's torture, she was interrupted by a tap on her shoulder from Partha.

"S-sorry to interrupt, Ma'am, but our chef says that it will be a little too late if we don't get the meals moving along... Are you ready to continue tonight?" Karazel peered over his shoulder, watching Nogard slowly open up her skin, a long line running down from Jasmine's pubic mound to her collar bone, the cut at her chest separated to the point it began to drip blood by the weight of her hanging breasts.

"Mmmm... I suppose I am ready, though keep her ungagged Nogard, I want to hear her cries." Jasmine's whimpering wails grew even louder at the command, as Partha took Karazel's hand.

"I know we discussed this earlier, but this is your last chance to back out of it, Kara. Once you're bound to the cross, there will be no going back. No matter how much you beg me or Bactra." The nevrean was humming along to a tune as she double checked the leather straps, swishing her tail back and forth as she jingled the buckles a bit.

"Partha, hun. I understand. I want you to kill me, and to enjoy tonight's party. That's my gift to you both." Karazel smirked as she gave his groin a little grope, the request causing his cock to leap, a grimacing snarl coming to the green furred sergal's face as the chain attached to his guiche piercing tugged taught, preventing him from getting hard and reminding him of his job at hand.

"Yes, Ma'am... or I should say, alright, Meat." Partha gasped as he felt his piercing tug a little harder as he took control, grabbing Karazel's arm as he began to firmly drag her towards the Saint Andrew's cross, a happy little grin crossing Bactra's beak as she clapped her wings with glee.

"Can't wait to open my present! Gonna be careful though, like trying to save the wrapping paper, we want to keep your pelt pristine!" The pair were firm yet kind as they went about ushering her to the restraints, tightening the straps first around her wrists and then ankles, ensuring the raptoress was bound tight, hanging spread-eagle by her own weight and unable to move as she got comfortable on the restraint post. One last courtesy, a gag was mercifully placed in Kara's mouth, making sure she wouldn't say anything unseemly during the final process. Glancing to her left, Kara got a perfect view of Jasmine's disassembly, the horror as her skin was carefully peeled off her supple breasts, the tough scales of the dragoness's pelt becoming a detriment as it meant her flesh kept together as one unit, the thick blanket of a coat half-draped over her yeowling and crying form like a blanket. "Mmmm... I always thought Kara was pretty cute..." Bactra smirked as she leaned up in a faux sultry act, rubbing her feathered hand under the green scaled raptoress's chin while looking her dead in the eyes. "Perhaps we could have been together, dear, were you not so delicious."

"Bactra," Partha huffed with an exasperated sigh, taking a honing steel to the carving knife, "Try not to be cheesy, it's gonna make my work so much harder." Bactra paid no mind to her fellow slaughterer, planting a kiss on the raptoress's muzzle and giving a little wink, before being pushed aside by the cold and calculating Partha. Yet despite his own trepidation about his silly nerevan's antics, Partha couldn't help but take the time to tease the raptoress with the edge of his carving knife. "Hmmm... where to begin, where to begin..." Tickling the blade over her neck, feeling the artery pulse ever so softly against the metal, Partha worked his way down her shoulders, over those mounds of chest meat, down her belly and curvaceous hips, even teasing the tip of the blade between her vent. "I think we should try somewhere different to begin... and leave the best for last."

Partha knelt down, just out of her view, leaving the raptoress in suspense before the gentlest tickle teased her sole. A soft pricked from the knife, one sole and then the other, was sliced from toes to heel, right down the middle. It was a strange sensation, burning pain as Kara felt the fascia of her feet spring outwards a little, her sudden pain-racked struggles loosening up her skin a little as she kicked against the restraints. But as Partha began to tease the flesh off her hardened soles, Kara went from gasping and struggling to letting out her first screams of agony as her foot and lower leg became two wet socks hanging off bones and tendril-like tendons.

"Mmmm..." Bactra watched with rapt interest and bated breath as she played her fingers over her vent, letting the locking piercings jingle as she whispered under her breath, the blood beginning to drip from Karazel's skinned leg. "She's my cherry pie... cool drink'a water, such a sweet surprise... Taste so good, screams so high..." Practically licking her beak, the avian raised her voice as she crooned loud enough for everyone to hear. "Sweet cherry pie!" Partha was carefully running the blade up Karazel's inner thigh, the raptoress crying out as she felt the knife slide like fire up her thigh, when he heard the hum turn from a gentle whisper to a loud enough song. For a moment he stood, two fingers between Kara's skin, gripping the blade tight, visibly frustrated at the inability to hear Kara's sweet cries of pain. The thought popped in his mind that perhaps he could even slaughter Bactra to quiet her down. But Nogard made a point of speaking up, trying his best to draw her attention away so Partha could work in peace upon his sister.

"Hey, Bacty, c'mere a moment... I know you're more a fan of guts than skin, I'm about to open up this little brat, you wanna watch?"

"Iunno... she never got me that drink I asked for." The nevrean smirked and gave Jasmine's unskinned face a little nudge with her foot. "Never gonna forgive her as long as she lives."

"Least you won't have to worry about that for long, she's looking a little pale in the cheeks from the shock." Indeed, Jasmine had calmed down quite a bit, if only because her body felt like it was engulfed in fire, every tortured movement sending unmitigated pain across the whole of her form. Casually, Nogard jammed the knife into Jasmine's back at the shoulder blades, rending the wings off his hanging meat with a few firm and forceful cuts to sever the twitching, bound digits from her back. The dragoness renewed her screams as the last few strands of fascia connecting Jasmine's pelt and wings to her body were removed. With a little help from Bactra, Nogard brought the still wet and dripping pelt over to the table, laying it out like a fresh tablecloth over the middle. "Mmm... just like that, Devin's gonna have a place of honor on that tabletop that's for sure." As they returned to gut the suffering and skinned dragoness, Nogard couldn't help but offer the knife to Bactra. "Here you go, you didn't get your drink after all. Have a bit of revenge on her, on me."

With sadistic glee, Bactra picked up the knife and gave it a few playful jabs in the air towards Jasmine. Despite her pain she still managed to tense her body enough to struggle a little, which only caused her to screech out louder as her bloody muscle twitched and spasmed in agony. Despite her playfulness, Bactra was a killer, and she knew how to make someone regret they ended up in her hands. As little dribbles of wetness began to dew upon her piercings, Bactra slowly pushed the blade in until it pierced the dragoness's gut, a horrid cry coming from her as the abdominal cavity depressurized and Bactra slid the knife from groin to breast bone in a practiced movement. Nogard was careful, reaching in to hold the coiling and slithering guts as best he could until the cut was complete, before allowing the whole length of intestines to slop, the filthy offal and waste plopping out onto the dragoness's face.

"That'll do, Bactra," Nogard said with a smirk as he gave the avian a little pat on the back, "I'll finish up here and take her guts out, Anabsit needs a little feeding so he doesn't nip at the appetizers anyways. Thanks for the help!"

"You're welkes! But what about the head?"

"Eh, leave it on for now, we'll let her hang and suffer a few more hours. If she's lucky, shock will set in. If she's not, we'll behead her at the start of the party."

"Okey-dokey! Lemme know if you need someone to chippy chop!" Meanwhile, Partha was pleased to have some quiet. At least as quiet as possible without his better half bugging him with whatever thought was flitting through her mind. Instead, Partha had spent some quality time with Karazel, slowly and carefully flensing the raptoress of the scales and pelt. In between he would murmur to her softly, soaking in the lovely torture as he worked over her body.

"Oh, you like that?" He whispered, as if he was talking to Karazel, but actually addressing her body, her meat, as her cries grew more fevered with each tender slice of the blade. As Jasmine was being gutted, Karazel was given the slow torture of a single singing blade, firm sergal hands peeling back the flesh from the soft fat and muscle beneath. He worked with a deep relish, despite his professional nature, drinking in every twitch of the muscle. He pressed his face up against her tense and struggling form while unwrapping Karazel like a package, the line of the knife drawn up along her belly. "Mmmm... there we go, sweetheart, you're so supple," feeding his fingers under Kara's slit open skin, he used his hands and fingers to tease the broad flesh off her belly and around to her back, loosening any stubborn spots with his knife. The nature of her raptoress scales meant there was very little resistance, all coming off in one piece if he was careful. All the while, Kara screeched, twisting in her restraints, pleading aloud into the gag and drooling as the pain spread like fire, her body open wide to the elements while her pelt hung loose about her shoulders like an obscene cloak.

"You're going to look so much more beautiful, my dear." Partha whispered softly as he worked on the arms, making quick work of the tender skin. "Most people to me are just meat and flesh. Torture waiting to happen. But you, look at me, Kara..." Partha allowed himself an indulgence as he stood up, embracing the raptoress about her midsection like he was slipping his hands inside someone else's coat. But instead, his fluffy body pressed firm against bare and bloody muscle, Kara's body alight with pain as he forced her to accept a simple hug. When he finally released his grip, the raptoress's head listed back down in a slump, heavy breathing through her nostrils as she tried to recover from the pain. Carefully, Partha kissed Kara on the snout, whispering, "You're my Masterpiece."

She had never thought that it could get worse. Then again, it's easy to forget that torture can be subjective. Karazel felt the strangest sensation as Partha flourished a slit up along the raptoress's neck and chin, opening her head like a Halloween mask. Intimately, Partha fed his fingers into the slit, spreading his hands upwards, around the raptoress's jaw and peeling away her cheeks, using his claws to ever so softly pierce and poke and prod and loosen the tender flesh. From Kara's point of view, when she wasn't eyes-clenched in struggle, she got to see the terror of a sadistic sergal working her face clean off her body as if it were some sort of obscene hoodie, eye holes and eyelids peeled away as her face hung loosely over her facial muscles. And with the growing loss of skin, Kara could only feel her facial muscles twitch and grimace while the whole of her identity was finally freed from her head and scalp, completing the skinning process and leaving her a mere slab of meat hanging upon the cross.

"Oooooooh, she's looking kinda gooey, Partha," Bactra said with a bouncy smile as she and Hikaru came back with a drink in her hand, prompting the proud yet exhausted sergal to inquire.

"...Oh, Nogard finished up with Jasmine?"

"Aye," Hikaru said with a smirk, raising a stout glass of spiced rum and sour mix. "He makes a decent cocktail too, if you ask me."

"Even made me something strong!" Chirped Bactra with pleasure. "Think he called it a Shirley Temple?" Partha was at least happy that Nogard wasn't going to fuel Bactra's antics even more than usual tonight.

"Well, she's lost her pelt, looking a little grim for the ol' girl... Think we should get her gutted next?" Hikaru asked with a smirk, downing a significant gulp of her rum and setting the remaining dirty ice down on the table.

"Of course, I think we should get your gift taken care of next, it'll make the rest of the gutting go smoother." Partha smiled as he took the white-furred ferret by the hand, leading her right up to the exhausted Karazel, her unblinking eyes and grimacing face staring awkwardly down at her killer between halting and ragged breaths. Hikaru didn't wait for any guidance from Partha, reaching out with the same impunity she did earlier in the evening to press into Kara's gut and feel about for her womb. Except this time, the raptoress screeched with horrid agony, her frayed nerve ends set alight by the one-armed lass's solid touch.

"Mmmm... oh they feel so much better when you're flayed, Kara... does that hurt, sweetheart?" Hikaru grinned as she cajoled the eggs inside of Karazel's gut, the whimpering raptoress feeling a welling feeling of agony as she began to cough and wretch from the firm squeezes and teases against her gut. "Don't worry, we'll have them out of you soon, I promise." Wheezing through her clenched jaws, the raptoress tried to steel herself for what would come, the cold steel of the knife that would carve out her gut. But Hikaru didn't reach for the blade. Instead, the ferret calmly and casually walked around Karazel, disappearing from sight as she hung skinless on the cross. It would take but a moment longer for her hand to reappear, this time caressing the raptoress's raw and ample rump, giving a firm squeeze to the meaty flesh. "You did well, Partha, left her cute little vent and ass intact."

Karazel wasn't quite sure what she meant by that, until she felt her slick little vent suddenly and painfully invaded by Hikaru's hand, first two fingers pressing through the pain-clenched orifice, then four, finally her thumb pinching in as she spread the surprised raptoress hole wide.

"A-ANNNNGHNH!" Kara screamed through clenched teeth, tail thumping uselessly against the cross and nostrils flaring as her exhausted muscles burned, lactic acid from her constant struggle having long since permeated her whole body. It wouldn't take long for Hikaru to force herself inside the fluid-slick hole, feeling the RRRRIP of her soft hold finally giving way, a thin trickle of blood mercifully lubricating the white-furred ferret's arm as she worked up inside her vent, fingers slowly tracing their way up her womb and towards her oviduct, feeling for those juicy little raptoress eggs nestled deep inside

"Ahhh, there we are... now we just got to... grab them..." Hikaru growled a little as she forced herself in deeper and deeper, much to Karazel's dismay as her forearm widened closer to the elbow with each shove. Cute little ferret fingers gave a little curl, stretching Kara's vent as she just managed to slip her fingers all the way up into the raptoress's womb. There were several filaments, fascia and membranes that made removal hard, but Hikaru was ready to give it a try. Even if she ruined the extraction, a blown-out vent wouldn't be as catastrophic to the meat as would ruining her colon. Carefully, Hikaru began to twist her arm inside of Kara's womb, using her clawtips to gain purchase upon the flesh, turning the meaty little pocket and winding it around her wrist at the same time. At first, Kara just pleaded, making pained groans at each horrid twist. But Hikaru knew it was working the moment she heard Karazel begin to wretch, her stomach heaving as the securing flesh and fascia began to tear and shred from her incessant and forceful manipulation. Careful not to shatter the womb's precious cargo, Hikaru worked with a slow precision that sent shivers down Partha's spine.

"Mmmm... my, my, she practically looks like she's going into shock. I'll have to remember this next time a gal crosses my claws." Kara's back slapped against the cross as she felt her womb loosening up like some kind of horrid corkscrew, each turn of the ferret's wrist making it easier and easier, until Hikaru gave a firm tug downwards. There was an audible RIP, followed by a sudden shriek from the raptoress's mouth, her head shaking in agony as both her eyeballs popped out of their unsecured sockets, resting at odd angles against her cheek. The ferret smirked as she felt the resistance end, carefully pulling her arm down. Like playing with an oversized 'water wiggler' toy, Hikaru began to withdraw her hand from Karazel's vent, the tender meat inside prolapsing out the blood-and-fluid slick hole as she withdrew from elbow up to wrist.

Gripping the inside of Karazel's prolapsed womb tight, Partha stepped up to begin carving the flesh away, the knife's tender caress almost soothing compared to the horror that the raptoress endured. Bactra was, of course, back to humming that incessantly obnoxious song again as she watched Kara screech, playing with the swizzle stick like it was a real sword while she sipped her mocktail.

"I scream, you scream, we all scream for her!" Bactra changed from humming to singing once again in her chirpy, low-tone. It grated on Partha, he knew Cherry Pie inside and out because of the number of times Bactra broke into it when they were working on a female victim. But just as he was about to turn and snap at her, a cruel little smirk crossed his face as he finished the last cut, a bloody round hole circling the raptoress's vent. Hikaru gave one last, hard tug, and the whole unit slopped out like a horrid and blood-soaked mockery of birth. Hikaru used her remaining arm stump to try and hold the whole package of flesh and eggs as a wash of blood flooded out and onto the floor, a thin dribble working its way across the ground until it met Bactra's feet. "...oh."

"Don't even try 'cause you can't ignore her," Partha said with a little smirk, clicking closed his knife before stepping through the bloody dribble to snatch Bactra's drink from her hands, slugging back the remainder before a wry little smile crossed his face, one of the first of the night, "She's my cherry pie..." Before walking off towards the bar, leaving a very confused Bactra in his wake.

"You... did you ju- H-hey! Get back here, fluff butt!" Unwrapping the wound-up womb from her hand, Hikaru carefully set the gooey and drooling reproductive organs down on the table, a wet drool of fluids and blood leaking from it. With a smirk, she wandered back to the blood-leaking Karazel, smiling warmly as she held her arm aloft, the white fur stained red and slick with all sorts of fluids.

"Well, Kara, it's been nice, but we have to finish getting the meat prepared for dinner. And that means we have to remove the last of the offal..." Hikaru smirked as she pinched together her fingers in front of Kara, showing off the size of her fist. Its size had been been practically merciful to fist her pussy. But as she moved towards Kara's anus, the raptoress managed one last pleading, agonized cry as she tried desperately to escape the horror and torture of what lay ahead.

The ferret didn't seem to care, or if she did, she took a twisted sense of pleasure in not caring. Hikaru slowly worked his blood-slick fingers up and into the tight raptoress pucker, having to work at an odd angle from the drooling blood that escaped from her open abdominal cavity. It wouldn't take long though, her broken and exhausted pucker quickly yielding and opening to the prodding fingers that spread her ass out further than any sex had ever taken it. Just like before, Hikaru felt the snap of Kara's anal ring, the sphincter finally giving way as her whole fist plunged inside her back door, the poor raptoress moaning and listless as she felt her friend begin to pump her fist into her hole with no regard for the girl's safety.

Not that it mattered, all that was needed was a prolapse for her trans-anal evisceration. And Hikaru enjoyed the pleasure of turning the raptoress's anus inside out, the puffy and raw hole starting to strain the harder she punched and plunged. At long last, bloody and broken, the ferret guessed that enough work had been done. Balling up her fist so she could pop out with style, Hikaru withdrew her hand from the broken sphincter, and watched as Kara's tender bowels prolapsed out of her broken ass, a puffy and raw balloon of flesh that drooled with foul fluids from the new lack of muscle control. Just as Partha was getting back with a freshly poured drink, still flush from his abuse of Karazel's body, Hikaru had managed to tie off the exposed colon, prepping Kara for her disembowelment.

"Ahh, perfect, thank you for the help, Hikaru. Always the dirty part. Would you like to do the honors while I cut the cords up top?" Partha said with a smile, handing her a knife, before kneeling down with a box cutter in his mouth, reaching up into the gaping womb hole to root around inside of her body. Hikaru smiled as she pressed the knife into Kara's bound off rectum, working between the tie and her rump to core out her body. With her eyeballs hanging down her face, Kara had the perfect view, feeling Partha gather her guts up like a bouquet within her body before withdrawing one hand to grab the box cutter out. "Alright, Kara, gonna take a few pounds off..."

Kara's aching lungs wheezed out a soft whimper as she felt Partha sever her esophagus in one firm swipe, followed closely by the sensation of her colon dropping out from her ass. In a slow, almost flossing sensation, Kara felt her entire digestive tract routed down and through her gaping open ass, a moanof displeasure hissing from her mouth as the last few organs were severed and fed through to Hikaru's waiting grip, a sloppy puddle of organs drooling their disgusting fluids onto the floor. Of course, the evening's gut-vacuum was quite attentive, and upon hearing the slop of organs pattering upon the floor, Anabsit rushed over, almost skidding into the dining table before gaining traction again and bounding to the pile of refuse and offal. His jaws opened wide to chow down happily upon Kara's ruined entrails, almost taking sadistic pleasure in gripping her liver in his mouth before chomping clean through it. Rising up from the floor, his arms bloody from having rooted in Kara's guts for a while, Partha met eyes as well as he could with the bleeding-out raptoress.

"Well, Ma'am... it is time for us to part. I'd ask you to blink once if you enjoyed yourself, but I doubt you're in much of a place to. So just relax, let the blood flow from your body." Leaning up to give Karazel a kiss, the raptoress's broken muzzle made contact with Partha's mouth just as the box cutter blade stabbed into her throat, a nice and shallow cut, but deep enough to nick her jugular and ensure there would be no survival. Pulling back from the kiss, the sergal dragged the blade around the front, still shallow, but making sure to nick her carotid artery.

In time with each strained and sludgy heartbeat, Kara began to spray blood in hot bursts from her neck, droplets showering the floor in beautiful patterns. Some even managed to hit the unconscious and twitching body of Jasmine but a few feet away. All the while, Kara sung her final swan song, her body twitching and struggling as she gurgled fruitlessly, her throat sucking in dribbles and drools of hot blood with each sucking breath down her throat. It would take some time for the drawn-out bleeding to claim her life, but Partha knew that this was exactly what she wanted.

"Partha!" Devin, right on time, came out from the back room with a smile, the chef surprisingly a lot pinker than he had previously been. In the time it took to finish slaughtering both Jasmine and Karazel, the boar had stepped aside to take care of himself; a fresh shower and enema, followed by a deep shave to leave the cross-javelina pink as a barnyard hog. Sporting a broad smirk, he gave a twirl for Partha and Bactra, having to avoid another jet of blood spurting close to the kitchen workstations. "Looking beautiful, we needed an indoor water feature for this place."

"She's on her way out now!" Partha merped with a little grin, before adding, "...huh, I didn't think you were that pink under your bristles, Devin."

"It's not like I have a reason to be shaved often in my life."

"Eh, I suppose that's right. So, what's the plan, Chef?"

"Well, I'm gonna start by putting Dud Bass on the rotisserie. I want you and Bactra to get the roasting pan ready for me and my 'date' tonight." Devin chuckled, shooting Karazel a little smirk as he walked over to the little skinned kobold that had been 'resting' on the prep table. The bound and whimpering meat was hardly reacting to anything, even the gentle touch of the boar's hands upon his back didn't seem to disturb his shock-riddled body as it twitched and spasmed. "Tonight's meal is going to include an old-school turkey," the boar gave a little gesture towards the suffering raptoress, her pupils beginning to dilate and unfix as the loss of blood dragged her closer and closer to death. "A holiday ham fit for the table center, sponsored by yours truly... and then we'll have a pepper crusted rotisserie dragonid. I'm thinking we'll serve him with rolls as sliders. Lil thing like him makes a good appetizer." Surely, Dud Bass would be embarrassed knowing he wasn't even going to be a main course for the evening.

Planting a hand on Dud Bass's shoulder, the hog began to draw his chef's knife over the tender meat, scoring the skinned flesh from the side of his ribs, up over his back and to the opposite side, creating big X-like cross hatches in the tender flesh. Taking a handful of salt and pepper, the boar allowed himself a moment to explore the open wounds, nodding happily at the fat he exposed, and the way the spices made the delirious boy twitch and struggle against his tight-fitting bonds. There likely wasn't anything left to his consciousness, but the little kobold was going to suffer for every moment of his waning life. Picking up the inch-and-a-half diameter rotisserie, Devin began to feed it through the loose and gaping pucker on the little critter's hole, his hand fishing up and under through the slit in the kobold's belly to guide it. One hand worked the shaft, forcing it inside while the other guided the sharp point up into the chest cavity, taking care to slide along the spine to avoid heart and lungs.

Once it was lined up, pausing only long enough to remove the tooth-marked ball gag from the boy's jaws, it only took a firm shove to force the metal spike through, emerging from the kobold's mouth. Like some kind of sick, reverse-blowjob, Dud Bass's maw flattened out as the iron spit began to protrude, bloody and slick, from his jaws. Centering it, Devin made the final preparations, affixing a spiked metal collar to the rear and sliding it up so the metal tines pierced into Dud Bass's rump, locking it into place to ensure the kobold turned like a rotisserie chicken. Hefting the little kobold in both hand, Devin trotted along happily to the large, commercial cooking surface. He had many pots and pans going on the stove but had reserved the best cooking surface for the grand show. The oven was designed to feed a function hall, visible to those who walked past the prep area. Gas jets lined the bottom of the hot box, each one gouting a lovely blue flame underneath the lowest cooking rack. There was space for more racks of course, but these had been removed to make room for the rotisserie jig to settle into one of two large frame brackets on either side of the oven.

Devin worked as quick as he could, the roiling heat below searing his knuckles as he fit the spit into place. But once it was secured, and after wiping the sweat off his brow, the big boar heaved a sigh of relief. Giving Dud Bass one last goodbye pat, unsure if the eye twitch he saw was a plea or the last autonomous movement his body would make, he gave a quick flip of the switch and set the little kobold turning. Curled tight to his body, the dragonid's trimmed arms and legs twitched gently as the whole roast began to turn over the oven flames.

Bactra was shouldered with the heavy work assisting Devin, her arms straining to carry the massive roasting pan out from under the counter. Deep walled and rectangular, the metal pan would be the final resting place for both Karazel and Devin, with plenty of room to spare for a lovely medley of pan roasted vegetables. Settling the pan down on the table, the nevrean fluffed and preened up her feathers a little as she turned to the remaining host.

"You're really gonna be taking a ride in the oven tonight? It's gonna hurt lots."

"Wouldn't have shaved down if I didn't," Devin added with a little wink as he stirred a few mixtures of various fluids - an orange and bourbon glaze for Dud Bass, a honey and molasses glaze for himself, and an herbed butter oil for the butterball-to-be, Kara. Speaking of Karazel, Partha had allowed her the opportunity to bleed out most of the way, but even as her draining blood brought about a beautiful delirium, she still barely clung to life, sensation so strange as she felt herself carried like a sack of potatoes towards the prep area. "Besides, I've got probably five, maybe ten, minutes alive in there before unconsciousness takes me... a little longer for death to set in."

"I wish I liked pork more," Partha added with a little smirk as he hefted Kara off his shoulder, her head landing on the pan with a thud, slit neck gaping as it oozed blood in the most pathetic of dribbles. "I'll still have a slice though, promise that."

"Shame you won't be jerking off to it too, but I know you'll savor the horror."

"And regret. I'm looking forward to when you break." Devin gulped at how matter of fact the comment was. No playful tease to follow, just a smile as he added, "As with Kara, this is your last chance to back out. If you tell me to continue, you will not come out till you are dead and gone." Unlike Karazel, Devin paused as he felt his heartbeat in his chest, a little flutter as he knew there was no going back. Yet unlike earlier, Bactra couldn't help but interject, giving Devin a little slap on the ass.

"C'mon, you know you've been begging to be a ham'n'cheese sandwich since the moment you joined the group. This is your year to let it all go."

"I-" Stammering softly, his shaft beginning to swell at the attention from his executioners, Devin looked Partha in the eyes and nodded. "I'm ready. Don't take me out till I'm dead from the heat. Only then, bleed and gut the rest of me." Partha licked his lips softly, a warm smirk rolling across his cheeks as he offered a hand up onto the countertop.

"Just as you should be," he said with a growl, before adding. "Go on and kneel down at her head. I've got some trussing to do, then you can give her a nice massage while we get you ready for your date with the oven." The raptoress's muscles were growing stiff from the strain and lactic acid, but a little work allowed Partha to put them into a position more befitting a turkey, with her legs tucked up like drumsticks and arms bent like 'wings.' There was no need to worry about Karazel moving, so the ties were designed to be a bit prettier rather than the functional restraint they would need to use on Devin. Bactra busied herself, humming out a little tune while chopping vegetables and placing the rough-quartered potatoes, carrots and onions into Karazel's open holes, working slowly to fill up the little butterball raptoress with a mirepoix of rustic veggies.

Kneeling before her head, Devin took a moment to stare into Kara's eyes, or at least into her sockets, two dangling eyeballs hanging out each one. They looked glassy, distant, off in their own world. Partha came by with the pot of herbed butter, a little merp chirp on his voice as he set the pan down on the table next to the roaster.

"I expect you'll use your hands." He said with a grin, the pot obviously hot and steaming, having just been at a simmer a moment prior. "Don't make me have to force you, now, just think of it as getting them all warmed up." Devin's cock throbbed between his legs as he smelled the warm mix of butter, carefully testing the liquid with a finger and withdrawing it before swallowing hard and plunging his hands deep inside.

"A-ahhh, Shhhh! Hot, hot!" Withdrawing his arms with an overflowing cupped handful, Devin allowed the hot butter to drool down onto Karazel's bound form, basting her by hand as he began to massage over the gentle curves of her chest meat, working his reddened and burned fingers over the ribs, down her belly and midriff, smearing the smooth and slick oily baste over her body. As he worked his hands over the lovely turkey that was his friend and host, the boar couldn't help but wonder if there was some little spark still inside, some last inkling of Kara's life barely holding on. With a lewd little smirk, the boar reached down between his thighs, gripping the raptoress's head and turning it upwards till her bloody muzzle was pressed up into his groin. Once she was angled, he gave his eager cock a little stroke or two, moaning to himself as the butter helped slicken it up, before lining up and plunging his shaft deep inside of the once-proud raptoress's muzzle.

It was the strangest sensation, the way his cock thrust hard into Kara's throat with no care or worry for the wellbeing of the corpse underneath him. But Devin swore he felt something as his cock bottomed out in her throat. A twitch, perhaps a groan, a spasm... it was hard to tell, especially as he put his weight down on Kara's body, ensuring that her throat became the perfect fuck toy to die using, while finishing up buttering up her thighs and the edges of her cavity as best he could.

"Mmmmm... there you go, we want that sausage to steam up nice in her throat." Partha said with a smirk as he allowed Devin to get comfortable. His tie would be a bit more unconventional, starting by trussing his forearms to Kara's thighs, followed by his wrists to his shoulders. A few lengths of rope tight around the pair's bodies ensured that he couldn't sit or stand up, yet gave just enough room to make sure he could throatfuck the good little raptoress slut. The restraint was complete by tying off Devin's legs behind Karazel's neck, ensuring that he remained intertwined with his lover-turkey forever. Once he was secured, Partha grabbed the pot of honey and molasses glaze, the bubbling and thick mixture of sugars as hot as napalm, and casually began to pour its contents out over Devin's body, the porker gasping and yeowling as he tested the bonds for the first time. "That's a good honey ham... you're not going anywhere, so you better start fucking now. You want to cum down her throat before you toast."

"Hey Partha?" Bactra said with a smile as she quartered up a rather large onion, mesmerized as she watched the heat-wracked hog begin to thrust his hips in a vain attempt to stop the bubbling glaze down his body from burning his flesh, "Why do we gotta have ham for the holidays?"

"Aside from the fact that Devin wanted it?" Casually using the back of the spoon, Partha began to rub the sickly sweet glaze into his porker, little dribbles drooling down the sides of his body onto the pan, "Because much as turkey is considered tradition, ham is still served at almost equal amounts over the holidays. It's actually less fatty than the average roasted turkey."

"Tch, I hope Kara's dead, because you just called her fat to her face." Bactra tossed the onions in and began work on the last potato for the couple's bed.

"The only thing in her face right now is seven inches of pork sausage. Besides, it's true. And my tastes withstanding, more people agree that pork is the better of the two flavors..." Once he'd coated Devin from tip to tail in glaze, Partha chuckled as he picked up a tin of pineapple slices, popping the lid before carefully placing them down either side of his bucking boar's back.

"Do we have to dress him up like some 1950s monstrosity though?" Partha had just pulled out a set of toothpicks, getting ready to secure the little citrus rings to his meal, but paused to furrow his brow at Bactra.

"Look, I'm just carrying out his last orders!"

"Guys," Devin growled through gritted teeth, his back already raw red from first degree burns, a soft grunt as he added, "You're making me lose my boner, and right now that's all I got going for me."

"S-sorry." Partha shot one last look back at Bactra, who'd busied herself chomping on one of the remaining pineapple slices, before he carefully pierced each pineapple ring, ensuring they stayed nice and still no matter how much he bucked. "Alright, that's the last of it... let's get these lovebirds in to roast."

Partha and Bactra needed all their strength to move the massive roaster onto a dolly simply to take it a few feet away to the oversized oven. Through the glass they could already see Dud Bass was quiet and still, his natural juices dripping and sizzling on the bottom of the oven as they opened the door, greeted with a blast of heat. It only took one mighty push from the pair as they heaved the two into the oven, Devin's eyes going wide as he felt the mix of seething air in his lungs and Dud Bass's drippings patter upon his back. The boar opened his mouth to gasp and cry out in pain, but Partha interrupted by adding the finishing touch, a bright red apple lodged behind his jaws to keep him quiet. Bactra finished up a little glazing on Dud Bass, adding a nice shiny layer of maple-bourbon to the rotisserie kobold. And like that, the door slammed shut.

No goodbyes, no last kiss. The pair were too excited to waste another minute, watching with rapt fascination as the live boar began his transformation into nothing but meat for the party. Neither had a ton of experience with this sort of death, and the moment seemed to catch both of them off guard as Devin breathed in sharp in the seething heat, eyes closed, moaning as he tried to focus on the one point of pleasure, his cock buried deep in Kara's throat. The raptoress jostled and jerked as he pistoned deep into her throat, the growing ferocity and pained panic causing the neck to jam and jerk in unnatural ways as he rutted upon the turkey's gullet.

The thick glaze prevented him from sweating as easily, instead the tortured hog overheating as the sickly sweet goo began to crackle and pop upon his back. Dazed, dizzy, the chef-turned-meat struggled, pounding with abandon as he cried out in pain and distress. The heat quickly racked his mind as he thrust through the final moments of conscious life. A few quick hip thrusts were all it took in the end, just barely managing to dump his load down the seething hot throat. A gentle sizzle of fresh juices could be heard coming from the oven just before the boar collapsed into his turkey's embrace, animalistic twitches and unconscious gurgles soon replacing the half-gagged noises Devin had made in his final minutes. Partha barely thought to glance at the clock - seven and a half minutes till unconsciousness. Not bad for a proud and haughty ham.

Oh, to be a feral dragon bumping about a snuff party, free to chomp and nibble and enjoy life's tastiest treats. Anabsit must have felt like a kid in a candy shop as he flitted about on all fours among partygoers in every stage of death and destruction. Dodging the bustling partygoers, familiar faces from the snuff chat, the iridescent-black scaled dragon flitted about, making sure to chow down upon a stray bit of flesh, or lick a dribble of blood as he pleased. Before Devin's demise he had preyed upon the sloppy entrails left by Karazel underneath the Saint Andrew's Cross. Giving a few tentative licks to the bloody spots on the floor where that offal was left, he decided to wander about the table and see what trouble he could get into.

Passing by Kavus's swinging corpse, the dragon stood upon his hind legs, growling as he nipped at the hanging end of the dextro-protein gizzard. Just out of reach, he'd already eaten it most of the way up to the open cavity, and the big Turian wasn't going to decapitate and fall any time soon. Scooting underneath the table, dodging a few diner's legs, he decided to have a go at Ar'iat. Someone must have found it funny to use the fennec as target practice, and a few daggers had been tossed into the helpless little demon's body. All it took was a little jump and rip, and a fresh rain of intestines slopped out of the critter for Anabsit to chow down upon.

But appetizer-sized creatures left him hungry... Turning back towards the slaughter table, the dragon saw the one-armed, albino ferret hanging at the table, her stump of an arm gently rubbing against the tender pelt from Jasmine the dragoness's corpse. In her remaining hand, she held a beautifully built sandwich, lovingly crafted with slices of tender honey ham, oven roasted turkey breast, and a little crisp kobold to top it off, a veritable club sandwich of the meats offered. Anabsit knew it was time to act and act fast! With a wag to his unwieldy tail, the dragon sat himself down next to Hikaru, giving the widest puppy eyes possible.

"Anab, you can use your words if you want a bite, you know," Hikaru said with a smirk as she held the sandwich aloft so he couldn't swipe it.

"Pfft, I know, but it's more fun this way!" He said with a smirk, peeking back over his shoulder and adding, "Besides, not everyone here knows I'm not fully feral, so I'm getting extra pets and treats... speaking, of, fork over a bite, furball."

Success. Hikaru rolled her eyes at the comment, but still decided to pinch off a bite of her meal, tossing it to the dragon who managed to give it a SNAP mid-air! Chomp, chomp chomping down on the fresh meal, Anabsit gave a few tacit rubs up against the ferret before scurrying off, back towards the kitchen area to retreat from the party. But his plan was interrupted as he came across Partha and Bactra, pushing two sides of a rather massive cart from the function room floor out towards the back of the building.

"I told you it'd be a hit, Partha!" A slightly inebriated Bactra said with a broad smile as she managed to drive the trolly containing the bones and remnants of the evening's meals completely off course from the dumpster.

"Geeze, push it straight, bird-brain," Partha growled as he tried to correct course before one of the wheels ended up in a bush or caught in some of the dragging Syrinx entrails. "Yeah, this turned out pretty good."

"Wheeeee!" Bactra wobbled the cart back and forth as it approached the big industrial dumpster out back. "Let's do it again next year!"

"I mean, if they'll invite us back. Gonna be a lot of hungover cleanup to make sure that nobody knows what happened hear." Partha growled as he examined the remnants on the large platter. Syrinx was still twitching, his body deep in shock and guaranteed not to survive more than an hour out in the freezing cold dumpster. They had scraped him up off the floor and plopped him on the serving platter that held Karazel, her body reduced down to a carcass more resembling something you'd make turkey soup out of than the friend and snuff-slut they'd known just hours prior. Devin, of course, had to be the ham and steal the show, but even in the end, his platter had been dumped unceremoniously down onto the same one that served Kara, a few gristle-and-tendon flecked bones hanging together but otherwise reduced to a skeletal carcass. Dud Bass fared even worse, his handless and feetless limbs wrenched off his body to be chowed down upon, bones discarded haphazardly in various trashcans. In the end, all he had to show for the final toss was a ribcage and skull.

Lifting the whole platter as if it was a coffin to be committed to the sea, Partha and Bactra grunted and heaved, letting the weight of the platter's contents slide into the dumpster with a rumble. But just as the first bones tinkled down into the metal bin, Anabsit bolted from the open back door, the dragon bounding across the open car park towards the scraps and remains. The pair barely had a moment to react as the dragon vaulted up onto the cart, forelimbs planted hard on the platter and jaws snapping at the rattling bones and bits of sinew. The weight on their arms was tremendous, but Anabsit managed to scramble up and over, causing the whole serving platter to off balance and tip into the dumpster with a loud rattle of refuse and waste.

The proud dragon clambered up out of the waste bin, its jaw clutching something long and slender. A thigh bone, it looked like.

"Kara's?" Asked Bactra, cocking her head to the side at the brazen dragon's trophy.

"Who knows." Replied Partha, fluffing up his coat a little before turning the cart away from the dumpster, the job done, if a bit haphazardly. "Spirit of giving though, she'd probably have wanted it."

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