Red Tape

The bell over the shop door tinkled as the customer left.  Usually the shop keeper would be happy to have completed another sale but today all it meant was that he had to deal with the inspector again.  She had just fined him another $80 for failing to display a safety notice on the knife draw and she was looking for more.
"Where were we?"  The inspector prodded the tit of a meat girl laying on the processing table.  He clenched his jaw, just knowing that he will have missed some rule or procedure and that she would likely impose another penalty.
"I notice on your docket for this meat that you have not inspected her breasts."  Now he knew she was taking the piss, he was a guy for crying out loud.  He may not have noticed much else about the meat waiting to be processed but anyone who knew him  realised that those breasts had been thoroughly inspected.  Angry he snatched the form out of her hand and checked.  She was right again.  He hadn't ticked the box.  Clutching the paper in his fist he fumed as she made a note on her clip board. 

"That's another $40 fixed penalty, taking us to $1200 so far."  She smiled at him as she said it but it was the smile of a predator.  When she'd first walked into his shop he'd thought she was cute in her prim and proper uniform, but now he just wished she'd finish her inspection and leave him alone.  But he wasn't to be so lucky as he knew she wanted to watch him process some  meat, and she was bound to find fault with his methods.

"Failing to inspect meat correctly is a major cause of silicon poisoning you know, and results in a level two fine."    She was clearly pleased with herself and he assumed she probably got a cut of any fines she imposed.
"Now this meat.  How would you grade it?"  She put her hand over the quality mark on the thigh, clearly not wanting him to rely on the suppliers mark.
He looked over the girl on the slab.  5'4", about the same height as the inspector, but the girl he was going to process was probably heavier, at least he assumed so although he was guessing as the inspector's clothes hid most of her flesh from his eyes.  Pinching a fold of flesh on the girl's thigh he was pleased that there wasn't too much fat over the muscle. 
"The thighs are good with plenty of firm meat although there's some looseness on the belly."

"What about the breasts?"  The inspector poked the meat again, causing a slight wobble in the fleshy mounds.  Taking a firm grip he squeezed a breast hard.  He thought for a moment the inspector had gasped as some girls do when they see him reduce their friends to packaged meat.  But then again the inspector seemed too hard to get a thrill.  In fact he was starting to think of the inspector as a bit of a dried up prune.  She must be nearly thirty and didn't look like she'd ever smiled let alone had an erotic thought.
"Plump, but still firm."  He flicked the dead girl's nipple. "Most girls start to loose it in their twenties and if you're not careful lamb soon turns to mutton."  A shadow passed over the inspector's features and he realised that he had hit a nerve.
"Now some women choose to avoid conversion when they're in their prime, and then they're good for nothing 'cept pet food."
The inspector appeared outraged by his insinuation.

"Some women don't have a choice in the matter."  He thought she looked cute when she was angry, but he wasn't about to tell her that in case she found even more reason to fine him.
"As a Meat Federation Inspector I am not permitted to volunteer for conversion because it takes so long to train us.  If I had a choice I'd have gone when all my friends went."
As the inspector spoke he slid a blade into the meat girl's belly, cutting from pubes to her chest.

"It's not easy getting old you know, realising that you are among the last of your generation. "  Well if she wanted any sympathy from him she was out of luck. 
She peered at his cutting.  "Mind the intestines, you could contaminate the meat if you are not careful." 
She almost had her nose in his incision and her head was blocking his view.  He assumed she was trying to annoy him so tried to return the favour.

"Well I guess there must be a market for more chewy meat, not that I'd want any myself."  At his comment she spun around as if to say something, then caught herself.  As she took some deep breaths to calm down he took the opportunity to lift out the meat girl's intestines and dumped them in the offal barrel.

"Also there can't be much profit in mutton.  This carcass is almost Grade A but I won't get more than about $4/lb.  For mutton I'd have to almost give it away."  With the meat girl gutted he quickly removed the heart, liver and kidneys before cleaning out the rest of the girls innards.

"So what would you do if a more mature woman needed conversion?"  Her question came out strangely, as if she's meant to say something else.
He looked her over, still guessing what lay under her blouse.  He didn't think she was mutton yet but he wasn't about to reassure her, not when he was still angry about all the fines she was likely to give.

"I wouldn't deal with mutton here but at the big conversion plants they'd probably just drop an oldie in the grinder.  It wouldn't be worth a butcher's time to process ancient meat."  With that thought he de-breasted the meat girl before splitting the rib cage. 

"And how much is a meat girl worth to you, a girl like this one?"  The inspector had an odd look in her eyes and he wondered if he had gone too far.  She could give him enough fines to wipe out this weeks profits if he wasn't careful.

"After paying for the cow I suppose I'll make around $120, maybe more if I'm lucky."  He thought once more of the work he would have to do to pay the fines, which ruined any pleasure to be had from upsetting her.

"Have you got conversion slip for this one? "  He knew she would ask for that and had the paperwork to hand.
"See, it's been stamped by the supplier.  I get most of my meat from licensed suppliers."  She checked his paperwork and seemed disappointed that he had gotten this right.

"Of course you cannot always rely on your supplier doing your checking for you.  What would you do if a volunteer meat girl came in here?"  He took a moment to remove the meat girl's hands and feet with a cleaver, putting the meat in a display tray.

"I'd just complete it in the same places that my supplier would, wouldn't I?"  He wasn't sure as he's never had a girl volunteer yet.  Everyone knew he was new to the trade and girls who still had a choice preferred a more experienced butcher.

"If you did then you would have a $20 failing to complete the paperwork.  Same as if you ignored the paperwork all together."  He was happy to have avoided another fine, then what she had said sunk in.

"So if I just ignore the conversion slip it will cost me $20."  He punctuated his words with blows of the cleaver as he dismembered the meat girl.
The inspector nodded.

"So what's to stop me just grabbing a girl off the street and butchering her for her meat?"  It seemed like the Inspector had never considered this possibility.

"Well maybe the fine?"  He swept the remaining scraps of meat into the offal barrel and wiped down the slab.

"So if I were to take a girl, yourself for instance, and convert her without any paperwork, I would only have to pay a $20 fine?"
A puzzled look crossed her face as she thought about it.

"Well the fine may not be much, but what would your neighbours think if they knew you might snatch them from the street?" 

"So if I were to butcher you now I'd pay a $20 fine, I could probably sell your meat for $250, maybe more depending on your grade so there seems to be a tidy profit there.  I could make more from your carcass than I will from that meat girl."  The reality of what he was saying seemed to dawn on the Inspector.

"If you did process my meat without permission then I wouldn't have volunteered would I.  Of course you would have to pay the woman's family her meat value.  That would ruin your profit."

For a moment he had thought he'd found the trick to great riches, but now he knew why no one else was just grabbing the meat off the street. 

"In my case my meat price would go to the Department.  Of course there is the paperwork for these fines as well so if you were to process me then you would have to deliver the papers to my office so that they could issue the fines correctly. "  He noted that she was still interested, and that she had brought up the fines again.

"So if you ended up on this slab then you would have to trust me to take the paperwork in?  I suppose that would only be fair."  Then the inspector handed him her clip board.

"In that case we really need to see what I'm worth."  She proceeded to unbutton her blouse, revealing her body beneath.  He was surprised at what he found as he'd been expecting some pasty skinned office worker, but her breasts were firm and from the muscle definition she clearly exercised frequently.  Of course there were the first signs of cellulite showing but that was expected given her age.  In fact as he carefully inspected the Inspector's flesh he thought she might be up to a good Grade C, maybe even Grade B.  When he gave her the news her face lit up.

"So not pet food for this meat?"  With that she hopped onto the slab and started to peel her stockings.  He thought she looked really cute now, the prospect of being butchered giving her a new zest, so unlike the passive meat girls he usually processed.  He ran his hands up her body, feeling her curves.  Her nipples hardened under his palms.

"No you're not going to be feeding any pets." He pulled her against himself, her thighs spread wide. 

"And how are you going to do it?"  Her voice was hoarse with anticipation.

"Will it be blade, stun gun or . . ."  She held her silk stocking up, and then draped them around her own neck.

This was what he'd been thinking about when she had first come into his shop, so unzipping his jeans he pressed himself into her.  In this trade he usually got his relief from quiet girls as they cooled on his slab, but not today.

The Inspector gasped, either from his thrust or the silk tightening around her throat.  As if the sound was the signal for his release he pounded into her, uncaring of the Inspector's desires as his forearms strained on the nylon.  With the Inspector no longer moving in his arms he came, shooting his load into the meat.  Satisfied he let the Inspector fall back onto the slab, her head cracking on the hard surface.
He pulled himself free and zipped his jeans up again. 

It had been a long day and the Inspector wasn't going to process herself, so he set to work with his cleaver once more.