Consensual Hanging Stories

Consensual Hanging Stories

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Thantasy and I have often done roleplays together. These have taken many directions, but in the last few years they have centered on a mythical society, essentially a 21st century Earth in a parallel universe, which we call "Carthanage," in which, for genetic reasons, there is an overwhelming excess of female humans over males in the population. In long-ago tribal days, this led to the practice of eating women, a tradition which has continued to the present day. In modern-day Carthanage, the consumption of women is an unquestioned part of life, a cultural mandate to which women submit happily as a fulfillment of their destiny, and nobody can imagine things being any other way, as they never have been any other way. Some are called in the government-administered draft and processed anonymously in butcher shops or meat-packing plants, but a more rewarding end for a woman is to be roasted and eaten by her own family and friends.

In Carthanage, many women occupy their time in much the same way as women in our own 21st century society. They can go to college, hold meaningful and authoritative jobs, get married and have children, all in a way that is very familiar to us. But whatever else a woman has done in her life, she knows that in the end, by law no later than her forty-fifth birthday and usually sooner, her body will be cooked and consumed as food. And the practice has been generalized to the point where many women willingly give their bodies to society in a variety of ways before they end up on the dinner table. They might choose to serve as slaves of one type or another, such as bed-slaves, or work-slaves; they might be girlpets, such as body-modified puppygirls or ponygirls, a specialized form of slavery; they might take pride in being chosen as the main course at a large banquet, as in the story "Home for the Holidays" (see links below); they might have their fertility enhanced and bear dozens of babies at a breeding farm; they might, as in the story "At the Dairy Farm," take advantage of a woman's unique ability to produce milk and spend their adult lives as physically altered girlcows on a dairy farm, making liquid nourishment for society, with bodies medically geared towards copious milk production, before finally being snuffed for their meat; and as one of a Carthanage woman's highest aspirations, they might be admitted as students at the very exclusive and prestigious Hanging Academy, subject of the story "Academy Girl," where after an intense three-year course of training, each graduate is purchased from the Academy to perform before a crowd of admirers, who will witness her erotic performance that ends in her very arousing death by hanging. (The Hanging Academy also is mentioned prominently in the early part of "At the Dairy Farm," but it is not the subject of that story.)

The Carthanage Stories include the following tales:

The Cammy and Alisa Stories : "Fair" (2018) and "Pony" (2020). These are relatively new stories, but might be the best ones to read first. "Fair" is a wide-ranging exploration of many of the facets of Carthanage society, seen through the eyes of two college girls, Cammy and Alisa. It looks into the mores and ethics of a culture that prizes women for the food they provide to society -- by literally being the food. "Pony," which takes place a generation later, then continues the story with a more specific focus.

Academy Girl (2006-2010) is the longest work, about the fulfillment and rewards of being a student and a graduate of the Hanging Academy. This is a series of five novelettes. (I had originally intended that it would consist of four books altogether, but the fourth started getting so long that I split it into two books.) The first book can stand alone, but later books depend heavily on the earlier ones.

Island (2014) is a sequel to Academy Girl (readable as a standalone but preferably read after Academy Girl), about the operations of a restaurant established on Purity Island, with the longterm goal of dragging Purity Island into 21st century Carthanage society.

Unwilling (2021) is an examination of the general practice of slavery in Carthanage society, slaves being women who are owned by another person. Most slaves have chosen a life of submission willingly, but not all of them, as social media celebrity Marly DeFossi discovers the hard way.

Home For the Holidays , a relatively short story, is by far the earliest of the Carthanage stories (written in 2000). In Carthanage, an especially daring way for a woman to offer herself as a slave is simply to go out in public naked without a slave collar -- it is understood that she is not yet owned by anyone but is available to the first person or group to claim her for that purpose. Depending on where she does it, she might expect to serve for many years or be cooked and eaten immediately. "Home" is the story of a young woman whose hopes to be consumed at a banquet aren't going entirely as planned.

At the Dairy Farm (2005) is a book-length tale of a girl who has reached the age at which she must decide whether to take her place in the family business by becoming a girlcow.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2093939-A-Willing-Meat-Girls-Meats-Her-Butcher
Rated: XGC · Short Story · Death · # 2093939
Dolcett themed, consensual Snuff, cannibalism, fantasy, but realistic.
Created: August 20th, 2016 at 1:39 pm
Modified: August 20th, 2016 at 1:54 pm

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I went to Ankara, and to the coordinates posted. I doubted she’d be there. However, it appeared I was wrong. I saw her outside, wearing a red shirt with a purple hair tie. I decided to watch from a distance. She was very pretty and looked tasty. To occupy her time, she was either gaming, reading, or on social media on her phone. I saw her light a cigarette, and let the smoke trail from her mouth.
While I was watching, I fantasized about living in a world where I could drop her on the spot, walk over, strip her clothes, cut her head off to bleed her out, then gut her, sling her carcass over my shoulder, and walk away with her meat and her head. Even if she was not serious about her post, this was a great fantasy for me.
I kept watching for a while, to be sure she was alone, and that it wasn’t a setup. I decided the time was right to approach her. “Hi, I’m Butcher, are you waiting for me?”
Her mouth dropped open and her eyes went wide. She looked me up and down, and said, “Why, yes, I thought you’d never get here.”
I asked, “Do you have a passport?”
“Yes”.
“Are you serious about doing this, and are you willing to come with me back to my country?”
“Yes, I am… I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”
“Good, we’ll get you a tourist Visa, then buy plane tickets and we’re on our way.”
When she had her visa, I told her to pack her makeup and her sexiest shoes, but wear casual, nondescript clothes, and that she had to leave her phone and everything else behind. She protested about the phone, but I told her she was now a meat girl and didn’t have a say in the matter. I didn’t want there to be any electronic way to track her and I together.
I also told her that if she changed her mind, to tell me and I’d send her back home with no hard feelings.
On the flight home, we talked very little. She was very docile and submissive, and I didn’t want to get too attached to her. We got to my house fairly late, so I decided I’d do it in the morning.
I had her take off her clothes, and I thought about going ahead and throwing them away, but decided to keep them in case she backed out. I told her she could not eat, but that she could drink as much as she wanted. I put a collar on her with a chain, laid a blanket on the floor by the bed, and made her lay there to sleep.
I woke up early, and was excited and anxious to get started. I prodded her awake, and told her to get up, take a nice shower, do her hair and makeup, and put on her stripper shoes.
She looked fantastic. I got a non-wifi, non-Bluetooth video camera, had her hold today’s newspaper, and explain that I was doing what she wanted done, and was fully aware and eager to be the victim.
I gave her a few drinks to get relaxed, grabbed the hunting knife I’d bought a long time ago just in case I ever had the chance, and led her into the large walk-in shower, and told her to keep her shoes on.
I got a large mirror and propped it up a few feet from the drain, then had her get on her knees in front of the mirror. I made sure her knees were spread so she wouldn’t fall over to either side. I asked her if I needed to bind her wrists, and she shook her head. I shook a cigarette out of her pack and put it in the corner of her mouth and lit it.

I thought I’d likely get quite of blood on my right hand, so I slipped on a clear food-service glove, so I wouldn’t have to stop to wash my hands to handle her head once it was off.
It was time. Since she hadn’t said she had changed her mind, I gave my knife a final honing with my sharpening steel, then placed the blade between my teeth. I gathered all her hair in my hands at the crown of her skull to expose her tender, slender neck. She was smoking, and seemed to be shivering a little as she looked at the two of us in the mirror.
She was so wet I could smell her, so since her hands weren’t bound, I told her to get herself off one last time, and I’d try to end her right as she came.
I first leaned her head a little forward, and saw the vertebral bump at the base of her neck where I wanted to make the cut. I drew the knife across the back of her neck, scraping the bone and exposing the sexy, yellow fat. A little bit of blood started trickling down her back.
Then, I pressed my left knee against her back and bent her head back a little to stretch out her neck, braced her with my right leg, then cut shallowly down the left side of her neck, then continued around until I had cut through the skin all the way around. Dark blood trickled down her chest, over and between her tits, and she was moaning from being turned on at the sight. She was moaning, smoking, and rolling her hips, but hadn’t lost a lot of blood yet. Her pussy juice smelled so good, and she neared climax.
I didn’t know how easy it would be to cut, so I pressed hard, and the knife was the full blade-width into her neck. It was obvious when I hit her jugular because a torrent of dark red blood suddenly splashed down over and between her breasts. I stopped cutting then, because I knew it would only take a few seconds before she lost consciousness. Since I controlled her head, I made sure she was pointed at the mirror so she could see herself. I could tell she was having a massive orgasm, partly from the head rush of blood loss.
She and I both watched her bleed, and I saw her eyes get glassy within seconds. I could tell when she stopped breathing, because she stopped exhaling her cigarette smoke. At this point, I let her body slump against my leg, and went ahead and cut through her windpipe, around her neck, cutting until I could tell there was nothing but the spine. I leaned her head to the left, and probed with the knife until I was able to begin sliding it through the joint. The crunching and popping sounded very sexy, as I could feel it starting to separate.
Finally, there was a little ‘pop’ from the last tendon, and I was holding her beautiful head by the hair. It took only about a minute for her to go from woman to meat.
Wow! I just beheaded a woman. It should feel like murder, but because it was something she really wanted, I didn’t feel bad. Her head was a little heavier than I expected, but not bad. My right hand, and the knife were really blood drenched, so I was glad I’d worn the glove, and I slid it off. Before anything else, I wanted to take a selfie with her, so I used my camera and held her head so we were cheek-to-cheek, and snapped the picture. Her neck was dripping blood on my shoulder, but I didn’t mind.
Her headless body was slumped against my legs, blood welling at the hole between her shoulders. Most of the blood was in front of us, and she hadn’t bled much on her shoes, so I pushed her forward, she landed on her tits and blood cascaded forward like I’d tipped over a bucket.
I took the cigarette from her mouth and kissed her lips, and then tipped her head back. Her neck was very bloody, but it was easy to see her esophagus, so I used two fingers to spread it, and guided my dick into it. It was still warm, wet and silky. It felt fantastic, and looked so sexy to have my dick sliding up her throat. Some people are creeped out by a death-stare, but I was turned on by hers.
Since I hadn’t cut her carotid until she was dead, her head wasn’t bloody. Long ago, I’d deliberately bought paper towel holders that consisted of a flat wood base and a simple wooden dowel, hoping that someday I’d be able to put a woman’s head on it. I had one in the bathroom, so I took off the paper towels, and slid her head onto it, so I could admire it while I worked.
The first thing was to be sure she was completely drained, so I shook and massaged her arms and legs and flopped her body around to get the last of the blood out. Her shoes had some blood on them, but not much. I took them off and set them outside the shower stall. Then I turned on the shower and used a soapy washcloth to clean her up. It was fun and sexy, especially since she was still fairly warm. Once I had her nice and clean, I toweled her off, put her shoes back on and played with her for a few minutes, posing her different ways.
I was hungry, and eager to taste her, so I went to the kitchen and started the oven preheating to 375 degrees. Then, I cut around one of her deltoids until I hit bone, then lifted the arm to cut around the armpit. Then I put my foot against her ribs, and pulled her arm out of the socket, then cut the last tendons to free it. I did the same with the other arm, because symmetry is important to me. Her pink meat was already looking delicious.
I grabbed one of her arms, then her head by the hair, and went to the kitchen. I took the kitchen paper towels off the holder, and slid her head onto it. I got out the broiler pan and meat cutting board. I laid her arm on its side, and felt where the elbow joint was, then cut through it, until it separated just like a chicken wing. Her upper arm, skin on, was going to be my first meal. I decided to not season her, because I really wanted to find out just what she tasted like. I cut a small slit through the skin on her bicep, and slid the probe for the meat thermometer into the deepest part of her muscle, th
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