“Becky, I need you to help me in the shop today.”

Rebecca stopped with her glass of orange juice halfway to her lips as her blood ran cold.

“M-me?” she looked at her father and slowly lowered her juice. “Are you s-sure I’m ready?”

Frank McCallister looked at his youngest daughter as he Reached out and hefted her left breast. She trembled slightly as he ran his hand from her breast down her left side to her rump, gently kneading her flesh as he did.

“Sure, your old more than ready, and without Ann it’s been getting hard to keep up with all the orders.”

Rebecca still remembered her sister Ann’s last day working at the shop. It was the first time she had been allowed to watch her father work. She vividly remembered holding Ann’s hand as her father finished getting her ready, the calm look in Ann’s eyes as she watched their father lift the cleaver, and the way her hand had tightened on Rebecca’s momentarily as it came down through her slim neck. But the image that stayed with her the most, was the way her older sister’s eyes kept moving and the strange, bemused and not quite panicky look in in them as her father almost carelessly dropped his daughter’s head into the tub.

Seeing Rebecca tremble slightly Frank turned his appraising touch into a gentle caress. “Don’t worry Sweetie we you probably won’t need to do anything but wait on the customers. We have several volunteers. But that’s why I need you today I’ll be busy processing them and getting them ready. I just need you to handle the counter.”

Rebecca gulped and nodded. It wasn’t like the idea that she would end up in her father’s shop was new the her. Either as an employee or as product, it was the family business after all.

“Well I need to go down and get things started. Go ahead and clean up, just be down in time to open up.” He kissed her on the forehead and hurried down the stairs to the shop.

Rebecca sighed and began getting herself clean as she had always done for as long as she could remember. First a shower, using the hand sprayer to be sure she was thoroughly cleaned inside and out. Then the enemas, repeated until the water ran clean and another run through with the hand sprayer. Without dressing she began to go down stairs. In the small room at the bottom of the stairs she saw that her father had laid out Ann’s old uniform for her to wear. The nearly see through blouse and micro-miniskirt. Brought a small tear to her eye. She really missed Ann.

At first Rebecca was nervous, her hands trembled slightly as she helped her father place the trays in the cold case. Breasts lined up in pairs on the tray, jiggling as she slid it in place. She couldn’t help but stare at the tray of fillets, wondering how long it would be until hers was laying in the case with them.

Soon the shop opened and business was brisk but not overly busy. Rebecca smiled as she weighed and wrapped the roasts handing them across the counter to the smiling men and women who came in to buy fresh meat for their dinners. With each paper wrapped package, she felt stranger and stranger. Why was she any different from the girls whose meat filled the display case. Why did the idea of being processed frighten her so much?

The next day was more of the same. Until about an hour before closing time. Mrs. Wesleyan entered the shop in a rush with a panicked look on her face.

“Oh, Becky dear, please tell me you still have fillets?”

Rebecca smiled brightly.

“Yes we still have fillets. Making a special dinner tonight?”

“Yes, Robert is bringing clients home for dinner and the brute only remembered to tell me about it an hour ago. I need six fillets and I should probably pick up some rump for later in the week while I’m here.”

Rebecca, already bending to reach into the case for the fillets froze. There were only five in the case.

“I-I’m afraid we only have five in the case. We have plenty of breasts though?” she said hopefully.

“Oh dear, Robert insisted on fillets. Are you sure there aren’t anymore? You know ... in the back?” Mrs. Wesleyan asked meekly