[SNEAK PEEK] Meat Market
A Prime Cut of Meat is purchased.
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Meat Market
By Limewah
Subscriber Reward for Moxas (April 2024)
18+
SNEAK PEEK
The meat hung in place, securely swaying from the hook. Said hook was not speared through the meat’s leg - tight corded rope was knotted around it, and those same knots were daubed across the harpy eagle’s frame. His yellow-fleshed legs were cinched together by the bright red trussing. The same went for his hands, locked behind his back and pushing his chest out like a suspended shoulder. The knots ended at the eagle’s neck, tight like a choker.
Only the tiniest bit of his blond locks were poking out from a small hole at the back of the dark hood around his head. It was made of a fine, dark leather, hiding everything save for that tuft of hair, and the beak. Said beak was stuffed with a bright red gag, keeping the mouth open and wet.
His cock was drooling much the same way, wrapped tightly as it was in more of those knots. Each ball was cradled and squeezed, and the latticed lengths around his shaft kept it hard and intermittently dripping.
The meat, formerly known as Blue Harpy, had given up his resistance a long while ago. The natural pull of gravity was dizzying and soporific to begin with.
But his mind was also branded; a bright red symbol branded into his eyes, and his mind. The symbol was a circle with a broad three pronged trident poking upwards, each one slightly curved at the tip. It was, incidentally, also branded on the front of the hood, right between the eyes.
The symbol of the Meat Locker. The symbol that Locked the Meat’s minds away and ensured they remained docile, and quiet. His mind was well-cured, ensuring no contamination from his old self; that would spoil him.
The symbol on the hood glowed both inside and out, and with each pulse, he writhed just a little. The bonds creaked, with no danger of breaking - not that the desire to escape remained, now that the branding was in place. These twitches and movements were derived from pleasure, sheer, mind-numbing pleasure.
The mechanisms above roared and groaned as the conveyor belt came to life. The sudden force made the ropes swing, and the Meat turned and twisted in the rope-cage. As he was conveyed and swung, the brand flashed, reminding him who he was, and what was important.
He was Meat.
He was Prime Meat.
He was Firm and Juicy.
It was a journey the Meat had been trained to find pleasurable, too. The subtle sway of inertia, the revolving torsion as he hung from the hook… and even a little bit of the discomfort, the gravitational pull stretching his legs and his spine.
Whenever that discomfort threatened to evolve into pain, a flash from the brand turned the dull ache into a spasm of pleasure, the sort that the meat might feel just after completing a set of reps. Tiring, satisfying… tenderising.
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