Evan got out of the government car. He felt uneasy as he looked at the building in front of him. A high wall topped with razor wire. Here and there, signs prohibiting photography and loitering around the facility.
Above the wall loomed a tall building. It reminded Evan of a hybrid between a factory and a maximum-security prison. In front of him was a huge two-segment steel gate, capable of accommodating a really large truck.
Above the gate was the inscription "Processing Plant Complex No. 3"
Evan swallowed hard. At the same time, a large steel truck drove past him. It had no windows, only small breathing holes. He also had the unpleasant impression that he could hear screams and banging on metal coming from inside the vehicle. The truck stopped for a moment in front of the gate, and when it opened, it drove onto the plant grounds.
"Alright."
Evan approached the guardhouse, where there was a ram in uniform with mirrored sunglasses on his nose.
"What's your business?"
He spoke sharply and unfriendly. This shook Evan. He had met many rams, but none were... like this. He was snapped out of his stupor by the question being repeated.
"I've been summoned to the plant."
The ram looked at him surprised and adjusted his glasses.
"Processing?"
Evan shook his head.
"I'm scheduled for a meeting."
"With whom?"
"With Chief Commissioner Ernst Vollmond."
Evan said. Then he showed him the document confirming the purpose of the visit. The guard read it carefully.
"ID with photo."
"Isn't..."
Evan wanted to ask if being human wasn't enough. But the ram spoke in a voice so threatening that even Frida's and her gang's intimidation seemed like sweet chirping in comparison.
"ID with photo!"
Evan handed him his ID. After a moment, the guard made a phone call and returned the document.
"Alright, someone will come soon and escort you to the Commissioner. Please wait in waiting room No. 1. It's on the left."
The steel doors opened, and Evan passed through them. On the left were doors marked as waiting rooms with different numbers. He entered waiting room number 1. It was a small room without windows. Inside were a few benches and a board with some announcements. He sat on one of them and waited. He looked at the ceiling. An industrial ceiling lamp and a ventilation pipe. In the corner of the room was a camera.
He sat on the bench and waited. He heard something in the pipe. He thought they had turned on the ventilation. After a moment, he felt himself getting sleepy, and the air becoming terribly heavy.
"What's wrong with this ventilation."
He stood up and, staggering slightly, approached the door. He grabbed the handle and pulled. Nothing. He pulled again.
"Locked?"
They were open a moment ago, and the door had no lock. At least, it didn't have anything that looked like a keyhole.
He started yanking the handle. He was about to shout that this wasn't funny when he slid to the floor, falling asleep.
Evan felt like a whole beehive was buzzing in his head. There was some metallic taste in his mouth. Plus, some ball was between his teeth. So the girls hadn't removed the gag after their games...
He was starting to wake up, but he didn't open his eyes. He heard some bustling around him. Who could it be? Frida?
He mumbled something through the gag. He opened his eyes, but the image was blurry. For some unknown reason, he smelled disinfectant. He blinked a few times. He tried to rub them, but he felt he couldn't move his hand. Something was holding it. When he opened his eyes, he saw that he was being pushed strapped to some metal cart. In front of him was another cart with some fur. They were moving between rows of furs in white coveralls with aprons, face masks, and gloves.
He howled through the gag. He wanted to find out what was happening here. Just a moment ago, he was in the waiting room.
As he passed by one fur, he looked at him and howled through the gag. But this one only rolled up his sleeves and pant legs. The next one rolled up his sweater, and the third lowered his pants so that his belly was exposed. None seemed to look at him. They moved mechanically and seemed bored.
Evan didn't have time to process this, though.
Above him appeared a large rail along which robotic arms with multiple grippers moved. Their purpose quickly became clear. An arm grabbed the fur in front of him and lifted it up. Then another arm grabbed him by the neck, waist, wrists, and ankles and lifted him up. Evan was moving about a meter or a meter and a half above the ground. In front of him were two rows of furs with scissors. When he entered between them, they began cutting his clothes to shreds. He howled through the gag and tried to wriggle, but it did no good. The transporter prevented him from changing position even by a millimeter, and his moans were ignored.
Soon he was completely naked, and the remnants of his clothes were sliding on the conveyor belt below him. Just like the remnants of other clothes.
He continued onward. In front of him was a wall with the inscription "Washing and Disinfection Chamber." The rail split into several branches. Each led to a different place in the wall. The transport took him toward one of those places. He passed through a curtain of thick plastic strips and found himself in a large metal pipe with a channel at the bottom. He was alone in the large pipe. At least, he didn't see anyone in front of him. And that smell of disinfectants.
He stopped.
As he wondered what was going on, he heard something. It was some mechanical sound from behind. Then he felt something invading his ass. Before he could howl in protest, water was being pumped into his interior. A large amount of water. He howled from the sudden filling. Was he being given an enema? Why?
When he was full, the robotic arm turned him ass down and slowly moved. It didn't take long for the trapped water to escape from his body. Along with everything else.
He wasn't given long to experience his humiliation. He was moved between rotating nozzles that sprayed him with water under pressure. Water splashed in his face; on his body, he felt intense streams of pressurized water.
After a moment, the spray ended, and he moved on. Because of his wet hair, he couldn't see anything. He felt himself hitting another plastic curtain. The next thing he felt was a blast of hot air, like many hair dryers set to full power. He closed his eyes. He felt the heat. He passed through the blower, and when he exited beyond the dryers' range, he was already dry.
When he left the dryer, he saw another wall with the inscription "Preliminary Production Control Station."
Evan began to howl. What control?! What production?! What the hell is going on?!
He entered something that looked like a display case in a pet store or a showcase like the ones he saw in the meat shop he visited with the girls. Seriously worried. He looked to the side. There was a console, and in front of it, someone in a white coverall. He shook his head as much as the collar allowed and howled as much as the gag allowed.
At that moment, a nozzle appeared in front of him, and he felt a puff on his face. He felt himself relaxing... calming down... as if all this was far away from here. Everything was far away... Everything was irrelevant, including the mechanical voice of the synthesizer.
"Application of sedative: successful."
A rotating ring passed along Evan.
"Scan: normal."
"Defects: None."
Then several ultrasonic emitters were applied to different parts of the subject's body. Detailed data was given on the percentage of fat tissue, bone structure, subject's mass, and muscle proportions. The person in the white apron mechanically entered the data on their console. They entered the data in an almost unconscious manner.
The robotic arm stopped at Evan's wrist. A temperature probe was inserted into his rectum.
"Temperature: normal."
"Pulse: normal."
"Blood pressure: normal."
The official entered the data.
The gag expanded, forcing Evan to open his mouth wide. Two cameras with LED flashlights on articulated arms began examining the inside of his mouth.
"Dentition: Complete."
"Cavities: none."
"Wounds: none"
The gag returned to its former shape and allowed Evan to close his mouth. Then an arm armed with a medical needle with a built-in reservoir. The metal pierced Evan's ass.
The prick snapped Evan out of his stupor. He looked again. He was in some research chamber. He heard the synthetic voice.
"Hormones: normal."
"Diseases: None."
All the probes retracted. Evan shuddered. This couldn't be what he thought it was. The guy at the console muttered something to himself as he tapped his fingers on the keyboard. When he finished, the machine's voice spoke again.
"Individual young. Low fat content. High muscle profile. Class A. Please confirm."
The official pressed something on the console, and Evan moved. He managed to hear.
"Product sent to production marking department."
Evan tried to struggle, but the mechanical transport prevented any movement.
He moved to the next room. To the production marking department.
There he stopped. The worker at the console grunted a few times as he checked the data. The synthesizer spoke.
"Object marked as Product No. ZP3-A-29487. Beginning marking."
At that moment, two robotic arms approached him. He felt pain on his forearm and buttock. A buzzing sound reached his ears. When the arms withdrew, he tried to see what was on his forearm.
He saw it out of the corner of his eye.
It was a barcode.
The transporter spread him into an X shape. Another arm approached him. This one began drawing a pattern of lines on him. Lines for cutting meat. Then he felt another prick in his ass, and his penis stood at attention.
"Carcass ready for processing. Transport to processing station."
Evan began to howl.
He exited the room and was stunned when he saw what was behind the marking department's curtain. A huge hall capable of holding an entire stadium. Machine sounds echoed everywhere. From the wall marked as the marking department, at least a dozen lines emerged, heading toward the center of the hall, from where they diverged in different directions. Evan reached that center. The machine scanned the barcode on his arm. Something creaked above him, and he moved on. He passed through another wall. Below, he saw a large production line. On the conveyors below him, bowls with meat slid, to which nozzles added sauce, and then a foiling machine created a sealed package. He didn't get to see what was next. He entered through a wall with a large letter A painted on it. There was little traffic on this line. He looked at the one in front of him.
The transporter stopped. Below them was a conveyor. On it, carts. A robotic arm lowered him onto a cart. Workers strapped him down. His hands were cuffed behind his back. His ankles were cuffed. The cart moved forward. There was a guillotine with a raised blade. It approached there. They put a chain on his ankles. A green light came on. The blade fell. The body jerked one last time. The chain lifted the bleeding carcass and began transporting it to another part of the hall.
Evan's transporter began lowering him onto a cart. The technicians secured him to the surface, giving him no chance to free himself. He felt and heard the snap of closing cuffs on his wrists and ankles. He moved forward. He saw the approaching hole in the guillotine. Suddenly, something dawned on him. His head was lying on the cart. How were they supposed to cut it off? When he approached, the technicians dismantled the front part of the cart. Thanks to that, his head hung perfectly exposed for the cut.
"Hurry up and don't gawk. Meat like any other."
The supervisor urged the workers. In Evan's head, the word "meat" echoed.
"Meat? He's meat?"
For some reason, he felt a surge of excitement and that he was hardening even more down there. The blade was up. The lunette opened. The cart moved closer. His neck was locked in the lunette. His nape was under the blade. In front of his face was a bowl for the severed head. The chain was attached and checked. The supervisor scanned the barcode.
A loud and unpleasant acoustic signal sounded, and a red light came on.
The workers were thrown off rhythm for a moment. But they quickly returned to work. They freed Evan from the guillotine and backed the cart up. The chain lifted Evan and began carrying him in the opposite direction from his predecessor. He couldn't guess what was happening. The transporter carried him to the adjacent room.
There, Evan opened his eyes wide. In front of him stood the Chief Commissioner for Meat and Slaughter, Ernst Vollmond.
He began to howl, demanding explanations.
"I understand you have a lot of questions. I'll answer all of them."