MEN AS MEAT

Were any of you lucky enough to celebrate St. Patrick's Day last week with a warm cosy bowl of Irish Stew? While taking my morning walk into town I saw this man chilling in a pot as the chef lit the fire under him just outside the pub. Of course I reserved a foot and a bowl of stew for lunch, so I came back a few hours later and the chef served me a bowl of the delicious thick stew with a slow-cooked tender foot. With it came a small card with information about the man, and yes, he was indeed Irish. As a failed athlete in his late 20s, he was sold by his coach to a male meat agency and was certainly put to good use. By the time I was done eating, all that was left of him were bones scattered around on the plates of customers in the pub. I would eat him again if I could...

They even had another specimen for the stew to be served for dinner. I heard him trying to get out of it jokingly, when I was passing outside the kitchen to get to the toilet. I asked the cooks if I could have a look at him and they were very nice about it. They suggested I come for dinner too, so I invited some friends to have some pints and celebrate St. Patrick's Day the proper way, while enjoying some authentic delicious Irish stew. Let's just say my friends and I ended up eating up both legs of his and an arm...

I don't know who needs to hear this, but you have to try 'Trotters' if you love male feet! It's this amazing restaurant in central London that specializes in cooking feet for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The flavors are out of this world, and the textures are so unique. You've got to check it out! They've got all sorts of signature dishes like 'Feet on a Stick', 'Foot and Mouth Pie', and my favourite, 'Trotter Toes'. And the atmosphere is just incredible. The decor is old-timey with all these posters of famous people with foot-related quotes. The staff is super friendly and knowledgeable too.

I have remembered some unforgettable experiences I’d like to share with you! Some years ago, when holidaying in Spain for the summer, we stumbled upon some very interesting places. We stayed for a few days at a small sea-side town, where people usually go to enjoy the beaches, the sun and the nightlife. It was a famous destination for young people that wanted to enjoy affordable holidays with excellent facilities. While the town seemed quiet and relaxed during the day, at night it was exactly the opposite. By the time the sun went down, it would become over-crowded with young tourists, that would party all night, getting drunk and high. My girlfriend and I would go out partying two-three times, but for the rest of our stay we preferred spending our nights at exquisite restaurants, where we could enjoy eating our favourite meat. In the town there were three very famous restaurants that served male meat exclusively. The men served were of excellent quality, thus the prices were extraordinarily high.

We had a pair of feet for a ridiculously high amount of money, but in the end it was worth it. The feet were harvested from a 22-year-old Spanish guy that was being prepared for this for many years. His dream was to become a professional football player, and he had a contract with a team when he was still a teenager. When signing a contract with a sports team, you basically consent to being owned by the team. If you succeed as a player, you continue your career and it becomes your profession. But if your performance is inadequate, your team will receive compensation for the effort they put into training you, by selling you to a man farm. So you either make it or you end up becoming meat. This specific man did not manage to impress with his performance. By the time he turned 18, he was transferred to one of the best man farms in Spain. His coach saw his potential as meat when he saw him in the changing rooms. Apart from realising how meaty his body was, he had also seen how smooth and meaty his feet were. He recommended extra care for the guy’s feet during his stay at the farm. And he was right about it, as he was finally chosen by one of the best restaurants in the country, mainly because of his feet.

The feet were harvested and cooked in front of us. Every table had its own guillotine, grill and stew pots. Our chef brought the boy to us and placed him on the other end of the table. His feet were still in shoes. It’s a tactic of the restaurant to marinate the men’s feet in espadrilles, which gives it a unique Spanish touch. They are certain that this type of shoe is excellent for transferring flavours and spices to the foot flesh. The feet are marinated for about a week in the espadrilles, and after that they are ready to be cooked. The restaurant also sells espadrilles to any customers that would like to use this marinating process for a boy at home.

Our chef took the espadrilles off the boy, and revealed the delicious moist feet that had retained a yellowish colour from the saffron and the other spices. The smell was divine even though the show had not even started yet. The main trick for this result was to keep the shoes on him for a whole week, allowing the foot meat to sweat and absorb all of the flavour of all the herbs and spices. The feet are not supposed to be touched or washed after the shoes are worn. The chef was careful not to touch the feet at all once they were exposed. The boy was tied up and gagged, and in his eyes you could see his intense sadness. It must be quite hard to accept that the most important body parts you needed for your dream career, have instead become the reason you’ll be eaten. 

His smooth feet looked oily and fresh as he wiggled his toes. When the chef grabbed his legs, he knew this was the end. His ankles were placed on the guillotine, and his legs were secured on the table. His back was placed on the vertical wooden surface, and his torso and arms were secured on that too. Behind his head there was a sharp blade which seemed ready to slice his neck off. As the chef moved his hand towards the handle of the blade above his ankles, the boy closed his eyes and his whole body became tense. It was as terrifying for him as it was entertaining for us and the chef. The chef asked us to push the button in front of us when we ‘d like to end the boy’s suffering. He counted to three and he pulled down the leaver. The two feet were chopped by the blade and they fell on the hot grill below them. We could immediately hear the soles sizzling on the grill, and the smell of foot meat and spices filled the room. The boy screamed through his gag, and he kicked his bleeding legs. The guillotine was moved higher on his legs, with the blade now placed on top of his knees. The chef counted to three, and chopped his calves off. The screams through the gag became even louder, and his eyes were ready to pop out. We decided to finally put him out of his misery, and we pushed the button. The boy was beheaded automatically by the blade, and then the chef removed the gag and placed the head inside the stew pot in front of us. He chopped some vegetables, and added them in the pot. By the end of the cooking session, the boy’s calves were carved into tasty grilled steaks, and his foot skin became crispy and brown on all sides. The aroma of the feet was more intense than ever. The boy’s head was also delicious, with the meat falling off the skull. The rest of his body was taken back to the kitchen, where it would be turned into other dishes.

It was one of the best grilled pairs of feet we’ve ever had. Needless to say, we bought some pairs of espadrilles to use on other men’s feet. But even though this experience was so unique, it was quite similar to other experiences we’ve had in expensive restaurants in Spain and elsewhere.  

What really surprised us was an unexpected eatery we stumbled upon, when we were looking for lunch options on a Sunday. We had enjoyed a morning at the beach, and we were looking for simple food options, like seafood, paella, pork or chicken dishes. While strolling around the town, we realised there was a smell that felt quite familiar. It smelled just like roasted man meat. The kind of smell you get when there is a spit-roast party going on. But it was 10 times more intense, which meant loads of guys were being roasted. We thought there might have been a spit-roast party going on at the beach, but we were at the beach the whole morning and there was nothing like that.

We let our nostrils guide the way, and we ended up in an area of the town which seemed quitter and less touristy. We finally found where the smell was coming from. It was a rotisserie… Yes, like the ones that sell rotisserie chicken. But we could see no chickens being roasted. The whole restaurant window was filled with spit roasted men on display. There were at least 5 rows of men on spits, with 10 men on each row. And there were additional rotisserie ovens with smaller body parts being roasted, such as heads, feet, hands, ribs and calves. We had never seen such a place before. There were more than 50 men being simultaneously roasted, some of them bronzer than others, while some were just recently placed on the spit.

It wasn’t just shocking to see so many guys being cooked at the same time, but also the fact that the restaurant inside was crowded, and the queues in the street were huge. At least 100 people were seated inside the diner, enjoying the freshly roasted man meat. Another 20 people or so were waiting at the door. And the weirdest thing of all was how long the take away queue was. It was at least 100 metres long, and people were just ordering pieces of roasted men to take home. There were also a couple of delivery men collecting orders.

The majority of the customers appeared to be locals, or at least Spanish. Only a few tourists were around, and we were two of them. We were intrigued, but also curious about the place. We definitely had to try it. I approached the entrance to check the prices, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. I had never seen male meat being so affordable. It was almost at the same price as pork or chicken. A pair of roasted feet with potatoes only costed 20 to 25 euros, a calve was around 15 euros, a head 20 euros and a whole man would only cost around 100 to 150 euros. At first we thought there was something dodgy going on. We thought that maybe it was an illegal establishment, or that the roasted guys were of really bad quality. But it didn’t seem like it, as all of them looked excellent, and the restaurant looked legit. We tried asking some people for more information, but not many could speak English. Finally, we decided to join the queue and next to us we found a local that was fluent in English and was happy to answer some of our questions as we were waiting.

He was a man in his 40s, who lived in a nearby town with his family. He told us that it is kind of a tradition to eat rotisserie meat with potatoes on Sundays. He was a frequent customer at this particular rotisserie, and his family loved the meat from there. This time he came to eat in by himself, as his wife and children headed to the big city for the day. We asked if he knew how come there are so many men being roasted, and why the prices were so low. He informed us that the rotisserie only operates on Sundays, and there are at least 100 men that are served every week. The majority of the men were in reality young tourists that got in trouble. During the summer months, the restaurant is overloaded with meat because of the thousands of tourists that visit. Many of them were British, but also a lot of them are German, Russian, French, Dutch, Italian and of course Spanish. He said that the locals demand to be respected by the tourists, and if the tourists don’t comply with the rules, they end up arrested and possibly eaten. For example, after partying all night, a lot of guys do drugs or go off the rails. They break things, vandalise monuments, pee in the streets, shout, harass people and many other offenses. After a specific time of the night, if a young man breaks the rules he will most probably be arrested and taken to the police station. Their parents or loved ones will be informed that they have been arrested, and that by the morning they’ll be considered as meat animals. Once they get arrested for specific offenses in this town, there is not much they can do about it. No lawyer or government can save them. They are transferred to the local farm, which is only 20 minutes away. There they are prepared and examined by professionals, and when you are deemed ready, they are sold to restaurateurs of the neighbouring towns. That’s how this rotisserie receives the majority of its meat. There are also other man farms around the region that follow similar procedures, and the rotisserie owners make sure to buy a variety of men every week. The prices are very low because these men are usually prepared to be eaten in less than a week. Of course they undergo health and sanitary checks and they are perfectly suitable for consumption. Another reason for the low prices is the efficiency of having one single cooking method for all the meat. No need for exquisite recipes, ingredients and pioneering ideas. Traditional spit-roasting techniques guarantee excellent meat quality, and delicious flavour.

While waiting to be seated, we could see the display area with all the men rotating. We could even recognise some of those guys. Two of them were a British couple that was staying at our hotel. We had seen them around the swimming pool area. It was quite impressive that we could still recognise them while they were impaled and roasted to a crisp. We were considering ordering their feet, but another customer had already ordered them for take away. We saw the waiters pausing the rotation, and chopping all four feet, placing them in take away boxes. How come we had never seen anything like this before? Feet like those would have costed a fortune at any other restaurant. But the person that ordered them only paid 40 euros.

As we were approaching the time we would be seated, we saw another boy we recognised. It was a German guy that was sitting behind us with his girlfriend at the beach some days beforehand. We had even commented on his feet being ridiculously meaty, when we saw him sunbathing. His girlfriend was in front of us in the queue, holding hands with another guy who looked Spanish. The German guy was naked and tied up, and the waiters dragged him to the spit-roasting machine where he would be impaled. The girlfriend waved at the boy from outside, and she sent him kisses, as the spit entered his ass. She laughed and joked about it with her new boyfriend and then by the time the German boy was rotating in the oven, she stopped giving him any attention. She said to her new boyfriend that she’d love to have the head and genitals of her ex, and he decided to have a calf and a pec.

This was what we needed to hear. His meaty feet were all ours. After waiting for another 20 minutes, the number of men on the spits reduced significantly. There were only about 15 men left, but the queue behind us was still huge. Inside the restaurant, most cages were empty, apart from 4-5 cages in which a dozen men were still waiting for their fate. The German guy was relatively golden now, and his feet looked perfectly glazed. It was unlikely that anyone would get to them before us. And to our own surprise, the head of one of the British guys we had recognised, was still rotating next to the remains of his boyfriend.

I will never forget the first time I visited the US. One of my trip goals was to try to get familiar with what everyone knows as USDA grading. I was excited about tasting USDA “Prime” man-meat, but I was so broke back then and a “Prime” man would cost me a fortune. So I tried to find an alternative way to taste it.

After doing some research, I found out that meat framing was more common in the US than anywhere in Europe. There were many ways you could trap a guy into it, and transform him into meat, with the right procedures. Of course it was not an easy job and it required a lot of effort to search for extensive evidence to support your request of transforming someone into meat. One of the common ways to do that was to contact an experienced lawyer to do the job for you. A lot of lawyers would end up acquiring jobs in this field, as there were thousands of people looking for ways to eat an average young man, without repercussions.

While organising our trip with my girlfriend, I found a service that could help us with what we were looking for. I was assigned to a lawyer named Cliff, who I contacted in advance and booked an appointment with. He was more than happy to help and he invited us to a boat party that would take place after our appointment at his office.

We arrived in the US, and the next day we went to our appointment with Cliff. He was a recent graduate, who had just started working as a lawyer at the age of 25. He was assigned with advising clients on how to select a high-quality specimen of a man, and with assisting them to transform this man into meat. He was a really friendly guy, who seemed to know a lot about the procedure, and he was a big fan of male meat too. He told us that he helped dozens of families to turn their sons into meat legally, and also dozens of other clients transforming even strangers into meat. He claimed to have done this many times for his own consumption too. His friends hate him for it, because they know they could end up trapped by him one day. But they also love him because he always provides them with the best quality meat.

After chatting all afternoon about the legal procedures and possible kinds of men to look for, we found ourselves at an extravagant boat party. People were in swimming suits, enjoying the hot weather, the good music and the amazing drinks. Cliff had arranged a cookout with a bunch of distinguished friends, and one of them was a professional butcher who knew very well how to categorise meat. His name was Bob, and he explained all the terminology to us while he was helping others with the grilling. The meat being cooked was of a 22-year-old model who Cliff had managed to convert into meat especially for the party. He was not quite “Prime” quality, but model meat is always excellent. As Bob was talking about various USDA grading, Cliff was just sitting there shirtless and barefoot.

Surprisingly, Cliff himself seemed to fit into the highest quality category but he had no idea we were all thinking about it. His meat probably had the perfect marbling and his feet looked super soft and juicy. Bob realised we were looking at Cliff’s meat and he told us to consider him as an example of “Prime” meat. Cliff just laughed and thought Bob was simply messing around.

Then Bob told us to look at Cliff’s thighs and legs to observe the perfect amount of muscle and fat. Cliff went on with the flow of the conversation and stretched his legs to tease us. Bob made sure to comment on the irony of the situation. He said that Cliff’s meat could be of better quality than the average meat-boy in steakhouses, but he is in the privileged situation of being a lawyer whose job is to trick other men into becoming meat.

While this awkward conversation was going on, my girlfriend was secretly taking pictures of Cliff’s body, as she knew that Bob wasn’t joking. 

Suddenly, Cliff stood up and asked Bob to stop the bullshit, and instead serve us some pieces of the grilled 22-year-old model meat. Cliff recommended the shoulder and ribs to us, Bob insisted that we should try a foot, as he used his special marinade on them. We tried a bit of everything and it was delicious. But of course the aim of the trip was to taste the best quality meat we could find.

Later that night, when we returned to our hotel, we couldn’t stop thinking about eating Cliff. My girlfriend showed me the pictures she took of him, and Bob’s words came to our minds. He was indeed “Prime” quality. And Bob hinted his intentions of cooking him when he commented on his meat so many times. Bob owned a butcher shop and a restaurant specialising in male meat. All we had to do was contact him and tell him our thoughts about Cliff.

He said he was expecting us to call, as he realised how we were staring at Cliff from head to toe. He said that he is also drooling when he meets him, and that he has always been waiting for the perfect chance to cook him. Thus he offered to help us.

He had the perfect plan for tricking Cliff. He was going to create a fake identity for a longpig he already owned. Then he would provide us with the pictures of the guy before he became a meat animal, so that we can send all the information and photos to Cliff for the legal procedures. Then he asked us to not allow Cliff to send the final paperwork, but instead give it to us or send it to Bob prior to submitting it. That way we could change all the information about the man to become meat, in order to have Cliff served to us instead.

Without any hesitation, we accepted his help, and in a few minutes Bob sent us these photos of the “supposed” longpig.

We had to convince Cliff that this guy was an average guy named Martin, living a normal life, while the truth was that his name was Tommy and he was already locked in a cage in Bob’s restaurant. The story we told Cliff was that we met him at our hotel’s swimming pool and that we ‘d classify him as “Prime” quality meat. He agreed with us on the “Prime” grade and he was impressed with our selection. After doing his own research, he found all the details he needed to frame him as meat. Bob had previously called the hotel in order to instruct them on what to say. They provided Cliff with fake details and a made-up reservation on “Martin’s” name. By the end of the day Cliff had sent us all the paperwork we needed to submit, and an invoice for his payment. In the email he included the fact that part of his payment would be to join us for dinner at Bob’s restaurant and enjoy some of Martin’s meat.

Bob received the paperwork too, and he changed all the details in less than an hour before finally submitting all the documents himself. Cliff’s signature and name was on every page, so it would be difficult to prove that he did not become meat voluntarily. By the next day, Cliff would no longer be a free citizen.

Next morning, Cliff got in touch with Bob to check whether Martin’s collection was arranged. Bob told him that his assistants were on it, and that they’d bring the boy to the restaurant by midday. Our reservation was for 7 in the evening. Bob was indeed preparing the boy for the same evening, but not for us. Thus Bob used the opportunity, and sent Cliff a bunch of photos from the preparation of the boy. Cliff was super excited for the evening.

We all arrived at the restaurant, and Bob welcomed us and showed us around. He showed us his cages full of expensive man meat, his spit-roaster device, his glass-door ovens and his special cauldrons, all of which were occupied by meaty men. Our table was big and circular, and some fried fingers and toes were provided with our drinks.

We chatted for about 10 minutes, before Bob asked Cliff to join him in the kitchen to help with serving Martin’s body. We knew that Cliff was not going to return back to the table as a free man. But we couldn’t wait for him to be served to us as meat.

Cliff was more than happy to help Bob, as he had assisted him many times before. The smell of cooked man meat made him smirk as he walked by some waiters carrying a roasted boy on a tray. When Cliff entered the kitchen and saw Bob cleaning the empty counter, he realised that the cooked boy on the platter which was carried by the waiters outside the kitchen, looked exactly like Martin. He looked outside the kitchen window, and indeed the boy was the one he framed, expecting to eat parts of him tonight. But instead of the platter being served to our table, it was taken to other clients.

Cliff realised that he was trapped, but it was already too late. Bob’s assistants restrained him, gagged him and took off his expensive clothes and shoes. The few hairs on his legs were then shaved and his whole body was washed in less than 5 minutes. Then they placed him into a special trolley, where his legs were lifted up and restrained in front of him and his arms were locked on the sides.

Bob pushed the trolley outside the kitchen and approached our table accompanied by the assistant chefs. He sharpened his butcher knives while smirking at Cliff, who was crying and moaning through his ball-gag. His body was jerking as he was trying to break free, while all of us were waiting to have his pecs in our plates.

The grill at the end of our table was heated up, and the assistants started slicing off Cliff’s pecs, which were then salted and spiced by Bob before being placed on the hot grill. The sizzling sound of his pec steaks was difficult to hear compared to his screams. His hands were both sliced off and deep fried in hot oil. His feet were to be cooked while on him. Bob placed the foot soles above some hot coals and the fire tickled Cliff who was trying to kick the cooking equipment. His feet were basted in oil and spices while their juices were dripping on the coals below them. His toes were cooked to a crisp fairly quickly, so Bob recommended that we approach a foot each and eat the meat off his juicy toes. It was an amazing experience, but not so much for Cliff who could probably feel our teeth tearing into his cooked toe meat. Once the toes were all cleaned from the meat, Bob sliced the little bones off with his knife, and chopped the feet from the ankles in order to cook them on all sides. By that time his hands were fried to a crisp and they were served to us chopped up like fried chicken wings. The cheesy garlic sauce accompanying the dish was delicious, and the meat of the hands was really crunchy and flavourful. The pecs were also sliced and salted like beef steaks before being served. Then is when we realised what “Prime” meat really meant. We had never had better pec steaks before. And the abs that came later were even better. But nothing could top his foot soles for me. Such delicious and sweet meat.

By the time we had devoured most of his torso meat, Cliff had passed out. His head, arms and legs were butchered and packaged for us to take home. Bob kept his ribs, rump, genitals and some shoulder steaks for the restaurant.

Background info

Welcome to an alternative universe which runs on pretty much the same terms as the one we are living in. There are some small differences that make this universe unique and in some cases better and safer. The rules that have been established by modern societies are extremely thought out in order to protect and secure the lives of all people on earth. But, it depends on who is considered a person with rights and who is not.

In this universe, women are equal to men. Someone could argue that the females even have the upper hand in most cases. But this is simply used as an argument by some people, because only men are eligible for consumption. After extensive research for hundreds of years, it has been proven that overpopulation, climate change, crimes and wars can be eliminated or significantly reduced with a single practice which has been considered as taboo for thousands of years.

Cannibalism was indeed a rational solution to many issues that have existed on this planet. But cannibalism is not a term that is politically correct as there are many negative connotations behind it. It is usually correlated with chaos, barbarity, inhumane treatment, tragedy, hunger, poverty, cruelty etc. It’s also very general as a term, as it can literally mean humans consuming humans, regardless of gender, age or background. Thus the widely accepted term is “androphagia”, which translates to consuming or “eating” men. It is the opposite of “gynophagia” which was widely supported in the past, but all the attempts to adopt the habit of eating women have failed.

Women have been the overpowered gender for a very long time. Since ancient times, the role of women has always been considered as less important than the role of men in society and households. Thanks to thousands of movements, this has now changed radically. But some misogynist movements, mainly run by men and some self-hating women, tried to push for gynophagia when cannibalism was being considered to be legalised and promoted by several governments. Most scientists argued that the role of a woman is actually more important as they can get impregnated, and they are vital for reproduction. Added on top of that, the fact that females tend to be calmer and more diplomatic when it comes to facing problems meant that they were needed for influential roles in politics and education. Compared to the nutritional values of male meat, female meat is not nearly as good for the health of the human kind. It generally contains less proteins, vitamins, and offers less health benefits than the ones obtained from male meat.

But telling half of the human population that they could one day end up on someone’s plate, wasn’t practical or ethical. You could not just transform all men to meat from one day to the other. The process of transition took at least a decade to become fully functional. At first, governments introduced male meat through the school systems. Male students that turned 18 were subject to a selection process. In countries were military service was compulsory, it got replaced with a meat selection process.

Government selection could not exceed a percentage of 15% of the 18-year old male students. So the selection was organised carefully. In Germany for example, boys had to take one extra exam included in their final school exams. The result of that exam could determine whether a boy would become meat, or a free citizen. It included meat evaluation, IQ tests, as well as personal questions about everyday life, global issues and life goals. There was no passing grade for this exam. Specialists would decide whether a boy’s critical perception of the world, character and aims in life were worth a chance in order to contribute something to the society. But meat evaluation was also important, as a lot of boys would need to go through a procedure of preparation before being sold to the market, which could affect the economy negatively if it took too long for a man to be ready for consumption. This of course didn’t mean that the rest of the school exams did not matter in the decision.

Later more rules were introduced, where older men could also be selected for consumption. The maximum age for eligible men is 35. Prisons can now send male criminals under 35, with serious offends, to meat production facilities where they will be prepared for the market. Becoming meat is used as a sentence for many crimes. For example, in cases of domestic violence, abusive husbands can be reported directly to the meat facilities in order for the case to be examined by the authorities. While some people consider this as a brutal punishment, and compare it to the death penalty, the amount of violent crimes decreased rapidly and not many people feel sorry for rapists or violent men. There is no doubt that women can also be violent and they should also punished accordingly. Of course female criminals can never become meat, but a lot of them are being used for reproduction. At the highest offence, they can end up as property of the state, which means their bodies can be used for pregnancies during their life-imprisonment.

Families can also decide on the future of troublesome sons before they turn 18. They can also have a say on their state as free men up to the age of 24. Usually, well-behaved men celebrate their freedom and their status as equal humans on their 24th birthday and also on their 35th which secures their freedom forever. Apart from being provided by meat processing facilities, men can be consumed by families after an approval from an appointed doctor.

Families that would like to eat their sons, have to go through two or three different procedures. First step is to register their application for requesting to eat their son before his 23rd birthday. They should submit any supporting evidence that justifies their decision, such as proof of misbehave, or indiscipline. Then the authorities examine whether the boy is eligible, by looking at his school and career records and by checking the authenticity of the evidence provided. If the application is approved, the boy will have to go through a health examination to decide whether he must be enrolled in a meat facility for preparation prior to being slaughtered. If he is healthy, then the family is authorised to proceed as they like and prepare him for their consumption in less than a month from the day of authorisation. Men that are registered as meat are not able to leave the country or claim any ownership of houses or valuable items. However, they are allowed to continue living their normal lives until the day of slaughter.

If families decide on selling their sons for profit they follow a similar procedure, through an application, but if approved, the boy is taken directly to a meat facility and the family receives 80% of the total final profit. The most unusual way of a man becoming meat is volunteering, either because of feeling the need to fulfil an important duty, or to provide meat and profit for his family, partner, children, friends, charities etc.

Someone would think that being a man living in this universe would be very difficult. Except for the added concern of one day becoming meat, well-behaved and respectful men have nothing to fear. Of course some nice men could end up as meat after being trapped by partners or families, but this is very uncommon. Not every man equals a piece of meat, and people do not view their fathers, brothers, sons and boyfriends simply as meat, unless they deserve it.

The majority of men themselves do not mind androphagia, as they enjoy eating male meat themselves. Male meat is the most widely used meat, and men being sold in butcher shops and supermarkets do not cause any feelings of disgust or terror to anyone. Androphagia has spread all around the globe, and countries do not only produce meat for their own citizens, but also for exports. In supermarkets and butcher shops, you can find male meat from many different countries. Each origin has its own reputation of quality and taste. Different body parts are known for their qualities according to their origin. For example, French feet tend to be a bit less meaty and bonier, than feet from Germany or England, which tend to be meatier and wider. Or torsos from Denmark are usually paler and much less hairy than torsos of Turkish or middle eastern men.

THEME OF THE BLOG POSTS

I am a 23-year-old man that lives a normal life in this universe. From now on the blog posts will be about my life and my experiences of androphagia.

I have managed to graduate from school and university, as I have not been selected during the meat selection process when I was 18. In 12 years I will turn 35, which would mean that I will have successfully survived becoming a meat animal. But this does not bother me, as I am sure that my attitude towards others would never put me in risk. My girlfriend, family and friends would never even think about converting me to meat. This makes me feel confident, and like for most other people, androphagia is a normality in my life. Someone could argue that I enjoy it a bit too much. My girlfriend sometimes wonders how can I just differentiate myself so easily from fellow men that have become meat. I don’t just enjoy eating male meat at restaurants but also in my everyday life. I love cooking. There is always some male meat in our freezer. I enjoy labelling my meat to not forget whose it was. For special occasions I insist on ordering whole alive men. Usually for anniversaries, birthdays and Christmas. As this costs a fortune every time, my girlfriend prefers to look for free options. She sometimes suggests eating relatives or friends by tricking them or persuading them into it. It is not uncommon for average guys in their 20s, to end up being cooked for their families or friends, if it can be proven that they deserve it or want it. In such occasions we feel really lucky.

Some choice cuts of boy meats

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Zac Efron Stewed Alive by Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson

Dwayne had been going a long time without eating his favorite meal. It was especially hard when he had every opportunity with what must be one of the most succulent would-be longlegs in Hollywood on set with him for the past few months on Baywatch. He’d wanted to keep fit for shooting which was hard when you ate a whole boy like Zac. Meatboys were the best for gaining more muscle as you burned them off. Especially muscle Twunks like Zac. Cooking them the right way gives you even more muscle growth at an astounding rate. He had done that with Josh Hutchinson after the Journey Movies and that kid went down like a treat. He’d taken that kid and coated him in chocolate and cinnamon. A cheat day for him. Now as they had wrapped the final day of Baywatch he walked over to Zac and patted him on the back, squeezing the meat of his bicep.

“Hey, dude. I’ve got this house in Samoa, it’s quiet and no one’s around for miles to bother us if you wanna come to unwind for a bit. My treat.” He smirked, getting a bit hard in his trunks at the idea of eating Zac after holding off for so long.

“Actually that sounds like heaven. When are we leaving?” He flashed those pearly whites.

“If you’re up for it, as soon as they release us I’ve got a jet waiting.”

“Sounds like a plan, man.” Zac nodded and hugged Dwayne, giving him a chance to really look Zac over on the backside as a hunk of meat rather than a costar. “See you in a minute.”

Dwayne had butterflies in his stomach where Zac soon would be. He met the kid at his jet where they promptly took off not even an hour after their conversation. Now Zac had heard from people like Colton Haynes from San Andreas and Josh Hutchinson from the Journey 2 movies that Dwayne took his hottest costars to his private home after movies had wrapped but he couldn’t even get more than a blush and a shake of the head followed by ‘maybe if you’re lucky you’ll find out’ from both of them. Now here he was in the man’s private jet about to find out what they were getting at. He knew people loved his feet. He was an icon in the foot fetish community…maybe that’s it? He kicked his shoes and socks off facing Dwayne which got some attention.

` Dwayne looked at Zac’s feet, studying them but trying not to come off too excited. After sitting in the pot for a while, stewing those things would be falling off the bone and juicy.  He imagined how Zac would look tied up and gagged while his meat stews with cut veggies, choice fruits, and certain spices that’ll just make the kid’s flavor POP. He’d seen zac through shooting and as the plane finally landed he knew he had done the right thing. This meal would be well worth the wait. A car took them to his house which was truly in the middle of nowhere tucked away and looking out at the beach. After they’d settled in Dwayne opened the front door and let the masseurs set up. Zac stripped down to nothing and sat on the table which prompted Dwayne to do the same. He decided the best way to tenderize the meat beforehand was a nice swiss massage since they’d just finished rigorous filming schedules. Then over some light conversation, Dwayne gave Zac a drink laced with some special herbs he grew in his backyard that put Zac to sleep in moments. He then smiled and got to work, while they started drinking Dwayne had started the large cauldron in the backyard so that the fire would start warming the water that was full of potatoes, carrots, pineapple chunks, tomatoes, and all in a thick liquid of a mixed sauce, water, and spices. He grabbed Zac’s limp body and carried him to the table outside where he stripped him and prepped his meat.

He hummed a song as he got to business rubbing some salts into Zac’s tight skin, especially in his thighs, pecs, and ass. Anywhere there was more meat than the rest. He then took a large machete and cut off Zac’s feet and hands before tying the legs and hands together. He then tossed the feet and hands into the stew to start cooking. Those were his favorite appetizers. Colton Haynes’ feet made excellent musubi. Dwayne then stuffed an apple in the hunk’s mouth so he couldn’t push it out and a few carrots into the boy’s hole as he started waking up.

Zac was groggy, his vision a bit hazy as he came to. He was being lifted up, he was tied up though so he couldn’t really move. Is this what Dwayne did to his costars? Took them out and fucked their unconscious bodies? He didn’t mind but-HOT. He could feel himself drop and hit hot water, before coming to the surface. He couldn’t cry out with the gag…juicy…sweet. Apple?  and his hole was stuffed. He then looked through the murky liquid and couldn’t see his feet…or his hands. Suddenly a few items bobbed to the surface. He knew those soles anywhere. His dismembered feet and now his hands came to the surface of the bubbling liquid. He screamed, though muffled, and looked through the steam to see Dwayne chuckling.

Chill out Zac. You’re gonna be fine.”

He received a muffled “fine?!” and gestured to the pair of feet and hands bobbing around him, one of which Dwayne picked out gently and bit into the heel, tearing some now juicy meat from it with a moan.

“All of this is gonna grow back in a few hours. I’m gonna stew you till your meat’s all nice and juicy then I’ll serve you up and indulge in my favorite post-Wrap tradition. Just calm down. I don’t want to have had your meat tenderized by that masseur for nothing.” He chuckled, taking another bite from the heel then the ball of the foot followed by slurping the meat from each toe with a groan. Zac watched and couldn’t believe his eyes. This was a sight to behold. And to think at least two other people had done this before him and are till out there living their lives. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He just had to make sure he earned that MASSIVE “The Rock” dick after he finished reforming.

“See, there you go, just relax and be a good hunk of meat.” He cooed, spooning some of the liquid over Zac’s head a few times every once in a while to ensure his whole body was juicy.

A bit of time passed as Zac’s consciousness started to wane. But before he could fall asleep he was lifted out of the water and onto a cold metal platter on a bed of rice. He then felt warmed again by the pouring of juices and assorted produce from the pot before he was carried to a table looking out at the sunset. It was beautiful His head was then lifted by maneuvering some rice as a pillow under him so he could see Dwayne bite his dick off and chew it hungrily.

“Dammit, Zac…you’re tastier than I imagined.” He said between bites. The muscular actor then went on biting from Zac’s meaty thighs, chewed the nipple and surrounding meat from his pec, and his meaty biceps before taking a short rest. He then went in, flipping zac onto his stomach where Zac felt the dulled feeling of his perky bubble butt being fucking destroyed, Dwayne eating it like a competition corn-on-the-cob eater. Something about this was utterly flattering really. He got to watch the sunset as he felt his calves be reduced to just bare bones then his balls got chewed off as he lost consciousness.

As Zac came out to the deck, fully reformed and naked he found Dwayne asleep in a food coma with Zac’s foot hanging out of his mouth, half eaten. He decided fair was fair and straddled Dwayne’s lap before lining up that huge cock and sitting on it, taking it all in one go.  Dwayne came too with a moan, biting down on the foot in his mouth as Zac pushed his own severed and cooked foot into Dwayne’s mouth some more.