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Part 2 is here! Writer ‘Chewy’ and artist Oleg’s talents come together in this salacious tale. ‘We Need a Pig’ What happens to a spoiled brat who pisses off her restaurant owning uncle one too many times? The original story is attached also. We thank Chewy for letting us use this amazing story!
(You must go onto the forum to see this comic) Follow link : https://www.forum.pulptoon.com/forumsXenforo/threads/we-need-a-pig-part-2.19575/
Original story by Chewy below:
We Need a Pig
Ai-Ling hated her job. She worked as a waitress at a very expensive Chinese restaurant. The place catered to rich, snotty round-eyes who acted like they knew everything about Chinese food and treated the help like dirt. The would swagger in expecting to be treated like royalty, eat like pigs, ask her inane questions about what’s in each dish like she was supposed to know just because she was Chinese, then walk out leaving a buck as a tip. At times, it was all she could do to keep from dumping platefuls of noodles over their well-coifed heads.
What was worse was how they expected Chinese to act. Every dammed round-eye thought that just because you were Chinese you had to be really polite, really hard working, and really smart. Sadly, Ai-Ling was none of these. Hell, she wasn’t even any good at math, for Christ’s sake. When God was handing out the Confucian virtues, Ai-Ling must have been on lunch break. All she wanted to do was sit around watching TV and music videos and go to parties just like she imagined all the rich round-eye bitches did. Instead, her family had sent her to the States to work in their uncle’s restaurant, expecting her to work her ass off earning money and going to school. Fat chance. She intended instead to find the first rich round-eye who wanted to marry some nice cute China-girl and settle down to the life of pampered luxury she deserved.
Tonight the restaurant was closed to the public. Her uncle Hong had done his usual sucking-up to a bunch of rich corporate types and talked them into reserving the place for a private catered dinner. He promised them an authentic Chinese feast they would never forget. Ai-Ling smirked when she heard that. Another pack of obnoxious yuppies who wouldn’t be able to tell Chou-fung from chop suey and uncle Hong was promising them a feast fit for an emperor.
Uncle sure had gotten himself worked up over this. He spent all day screaming at the help, bullying them into scrubbing the restaurant spotless, polishing the fixtures, and pressing the linens. The night before he had gone down to China-town to pick up the very best ingredients for the meal. The centerpiece was a huge fattened pig. He had carted the damm thing in on a huge tray and set it in the walk-in refrigerator. Ai-Ling curled her lip at the sight of the gutted animal. She laughed at its glassy eyes and fat meaty limbs, making some rude remarks that it looked like a lot of uncle Hong’s customers. He scolded her loudly for this, demanding she pitch in and help with the preparations. She moved so slowly and was such a poor help that her exasperated uncle finally threw his hands up and ordered her to simply get the hell out of the way. Ai-Ling smirked as she sat down, ignoring the hostile glares of her co-workers.
Suddenly, chaos broke out. Uncle Hong had gone to the refrigerator to get the pig. A blast of warm, smelly air hit him. The refrigerator had stopped working! Poor Hong almost screamed in agony as he realized the pig had spoiled completely. The fish was all right since they had been packed in ice, and the chicken and duck had been put in a smaller unit near the kitchen. But the centerpiece of his banquet, the fattened pig, was utterly ruined. There was no time to get another and get it roasted in time for the guests.
“This is a disaster!’ Hong moaned, holding his head in his hands. ‘This could have been my big chance. The guests were going to finance me to build more restaurants and become rich. Now they we laugh at me and I will lose all face.”
The other workers except for Ai-Ling stood around dejectedly. A few suggestions were made to hold the feast without the proper pork dishes but everyone knew it was hopeless. If only they could find another pig in time.
“Heh guys, this is a real shame,’ Ai-ling chirped, snickering at their downcast faces, ‘but if you’ve fucked this all up there’s no point to me staying. I’ll head over to the mall and get some shopping done.”
Hong looked up at her and his eyes hardened in sudden interest. He looked at her, his eyes traveling up and down her body. It was if he was seeing her for the first time.
Ai-ling was well worth a look. Unlike many Asian girls with their slender bones and petite frames, Ai-Ling was built more like the white girls she envied. She had a stocky build, with wide generous hips, broad shoulders and even more unusual for an Asian girl, a very respectable set of breasts. Her face was gorgeous, with rich full lips, petite nose and a hypnotizing set of tapering jet-black eyes. Her long black hair surrounded her face like a glossy waterfall. All in all, she was quite a looker, and she knew it.
Hong’s gaze started at her bare ankles, then traveled up her thickly fleshed calves. His eyes widened as he realized how much they looked like golden drumsticks, the bulge of her calf muscles looking like so much thick juicy meat, the shiny golden skin looking like it was already basted and ready for the plate. Hong’s eyes traveled up past her slightly dimpled knees to her strong-looking thighs. He suddenly thought of ham, how those magnificent thighs would look on a platter, the round circle of bone in the middle surrounded by a halo of mouth-watering flesh. He could almost taste the thin glaze of melted fat that would settle on her crispy skin as he bit into it, the buttery flavor it would lend to her fresh meat.
He blinked as he came to the hem of her short skirt. He couldn’t help but imagine the line of her thighs as they traveled upwards towards the musky garden hidden under the thin fabric. He could almost see how the legs swelled outwards into the heavenly moon of her buttocks, how the soft skin of her inner thighs gave way to the moist satin of her deepest treasure. He licked his lips in anticipation of how it would feel to take that treasure. From the primal scent of her musk, to the hot inviting juices that lined her insides, the taste of her estrogen-laced flesh on his tongue, in his mouth, inside his soul. How her would grip her buttocks as he fed, pulling them closer as her devoured her sex and made it his.
He next gazed at her midriff. He could see the dark gold of her skin through the fabric of her shirt. Squinting, he could just make out her dainty navel sitting like a shy jewel amidst the expanse of warm flesh. Ai-ling may be as useless as a dead dog, he thought, but she sure wasn’t skipping any meals he thought as he spied a small roll of excess flesh along her belly. He suddenly thought of fresh duck, how the creamy fat made the meat underneath almost melt in one’s mouth. He wondered how thick her belly steaks would be, and how they would look sizzling away in a wok, the heavy beads of fat coating the strips of golden derma before flashing into oily steam as they touched the hot iron. He could see before him her whole cooked midriff laid before him, succulent flesh laying on a bed of watercress, a brilliant red cherry set on top of her belly button.
His eyes widened in awe at the sight of her heavy breasts. He couldn’t see any hint of a bra under her shirt, yet her mammaries held themselves erect, like proud trophies. A tiny drop of drool formed on his lips as he dreamt of how they would steam and melt in the broiler, cascades of buttery goodness flowing out of them and over her thick rib racks. The ribs looked incredibly meaty hiding under those magnificent ornaments. His tongue ran over his teeth as he thought of how it would feel to bite into one of those racks, savaging meat and gristle and bone like a wild animal. Would the ivory bone crack and spill its gooey marrow when he pulled and gnawed at them like a hungry beast? Would he gnaw them to splinters, not stopping till he tasted the metallic tissue of her heart between his jaws?
His inspection was drawn to her gently curved shoulders and long, exquisitely formed arms. He arms were bare and he drew in his breath as he realized just how soft and warm her golden skin looked. He wanted to touch it, no better yet, to taste it, to savor its slightly salty smoothness. Dreams of how her arms would look soaked in hot sauce as they lay on a smoky grill filled his mind. He wondered just how rich those biceps would be, how tender they would be as he gnawed them to jelly. He could almost see the drops of sauce and oil form on her polished fingernails, linger there for a moment then fall hissing into the fire. He reveled in how the slender bones of her forearm grate against his teeth as he scrapped them clean of meat like they the wings of an angel.
“Pervert!’ Ai-Ling sneered. She always considered Hong to be a dirty old man at heart but even she was shocked at the sheer lewdness of his gaze. It was like he was inspecting her for dinner or something.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m out of here. And you,’ she hissed in Hong’s direction,’ are a really sick old man!”
With that Ai-Ling spun around to stomp out the door. Hong looked around at his employees. Several looked back with what seemed to be knowing looks in their eyes. They too had a stake in tonight’s event. If Hong prospered so would they. Working at a successful restaurant was often the first step to one’s own prosperity in this business.
“We need a pig.” Hong whispered, looking for signs of understanding.
Slowly, hesitantly, several heads nodded. Hong was surprised that several of the women were the first to agree. Their jaws were set in determined lines and they looked at Ai-Ling’s retreating rump with cold, calculating gazes. One of the waitresses, a thirty-something woman with a family to support stepped towards one of the tables and picked up a long gleaming knife. She looked Hong straight in the eye and declared “We need a pig.”
“Ai-ling? Ai-Ling?’ Hong called out innocently.
The young girl stopped and looked back, an expression of disdain on her face. “What do you pack of losers want? Hurry up, I got places to be.”
The woman who held the knife quickly hid the shining blade behind her back and smiled brightly at dear plump Ai-Ling. “Please, we’re very sorry. Before you go we need your help with something.”
Ai-Ling hesitated, confused at the intense looks on several of the faces. Normally, she treated her co-workers like dirt, which is what they deserved for spending their lives as drudges. Nevertheless, her curiosity was aroused.
“Ok, but it better be good. Make it quick or I’ll want some overtime for staying.”
“Don’t worry’ the woman assured in an almost motherly tone, “I’ll make sure you get everything you deserve.”
She took Ai-Ling by the arm and began to lead her into the kitchen. She patted the young girl’s arm affectionately, her fingers straying on the satiny flesh for a few seconds longer than needed. Several of the workers still had bewildered looks on their faces, wondering why they were suddenly so nice to such an awful person. Most however, looked at Hong and then the knife in the woman’s hand and simply stayed silent. A few even gave small, secretive grins as if embarrassed at sharing some small secret. Several whispered quietly, “We need a pig.”
The dinner was spectacular, better than Hong could have ever dreamed. The food was excellent, especially the pork which was simply indescribable. Every one of the wealthy guests raved over its flavor and texture, demanding more and more helping of the savory meat. Soon, the chicken and fish were forgotten and the patrons wolfed down dish after dish of ‘heavenly pork’. It came in every fashion possible in Chinese cuisine, served shredded and double-cooked in hot sauce, to tender strips served atop beds of heart rice noodles and watercress, as succulent medallions swimming in sweet sauce, to tiny lengths of chopped spiced ribs set amidst saffron rice, hidden dumplings so light as to be like clouds, swimming in hearty soups. Even dishes that were rarely served to squeamish westerners like spicy tripe and candied sweetbreads were set out. Several guests hesitated, took small portions just to be courteous, then found themselves shoveling the exotic morsels into their mouth as fast as they could.
The only slight problem was that several of the staff seemed a bit ill at first. Several looked quite pale and shaken and had to be coaxed to serve the platters of meat. They often gave the dishes odd looks, as if they couldn’t believe their eyes. Soon however, they saw the reactions of the guests and looked wonderingly at the epicurean delights they were serving. No one really noticed but soon they were sneaking small leftover morsels off the dishes as they carried them back to the kitchen. They gave each other shocked looks, then quickly whisked a few more stray fragments into drooling mouths.
All too soon, it was over. The guests departed leaving Hong with assurances of almost unlimited funding for his future restaurants. Every single guest demanded his recipe for his ‘special’ pork dishes but he politely refused, assuring them the secret of his special pork was the key to success. The guests finally gave in but insisted on scheduling another such meal next week. Hong seemed a bit intimidated at first at putting on another such feast. He mentioned how hard they were on his staff, but at last agreed, insisting that they would cook up something to make everyone happy.
The weary employees gathered around one of the tables once the last guest left. They were tired, but happy at their sudden change in fortune. Even so, many wore slightly guilty looks as they stared at the pile of leftover meat scraps. Naturally, everyone was also a bit worried over who would be asked to ‘host’ next week’s event, let alone supply the volume needed for a chain of restaurants.
Uncle Hong came out of the kitchen carrying a large silver tray in his hands. He set the tray down and removed the lid. Sitting in the middle of a bed of watercress was poor Ai-Ling’s head. She wore the same expression of dopey confusion she had when he co-workers had torn off her clothes and stabbed her to death. The back of her head had been removed to scoop out her brains, but otherwise she still looked remarkably life-like.
Everyone sat silent for a moment, over-awed by what they had done.
“Lets eat” Hong declared, breaking the ice. He then sat down and grabbed a pair of chopsticks and dug into the pile of Ai-ling meat. ‘Delicious!’ he declared as he chewed his first bite, which was a piece of ankle with lots of meat still clinging to the bone. ‘For someone with bad taste, she sure tastes good!”
Everyone laughed and began to share their forbidden communion. On person pried open Ai-Ling’ jaws, cut her tongue out and sliced it into thin sections. Another brought out a large pot from the kitchen where they had been making waitress soup. Some of dear Ai-Ling’s more recognizable pieces, like her feet and hands had gone into it, along with many of her bones as soup stock. The soup smelled incredibly delicious and everyone watched hungrily as it was ladled out. The broth was poured into Ai-Ling’s empty skull, some of which began to seep down her nose and from her eras. The most senior people got the prize portions according to Chinese custom. Hong selected one tasty-looking foot. The skin was wrinkly from having been boiled, but the meat underneath was almost like custard, while the toes made for delightfully crunchy appetizers. He soon sucked every fragment of meat from the dainty appendage, spitting out small bones and bits of gristle with careless disdain.
Once everyone was gorged, Hong stood up. He looked down at the table. There was nothing left of Ai-Ling now except for some bone scraps and a few shreds of gristle. Even her head had been picked clean, leaving a wet skull and a scalp, which was hanging casually from the back of someone’s chair.
“I want to thank everyone for doing a splendid job,’ Hong announced proudly, ‘I know had stressful this has been for some of you, but it was necessary. We must all make sacrifices to ensure our prosperity. I’m sure everyone here thanks Ai-ling for everything she has done to help us. Naturally, we will send a portion of the money we made to her family as compensation for their loss. After all, we are not savages. Now, we must decide what to do about next week’s feast.”
At that, everyone looked around nervously at his or her fellows. Nothing is more tense and fraught with uncertainty than a table full of anxious cannibals.
“Naturally, no one here will be asked to make the sacrifice.”
Everyone breathed easier.
“First of all, for next week. Lin, don’t you have a niece who is, well, as unemployable as our dear late Ai-ling? Also doesn’t she have some trashy American friends she hangs out with? Always getting into trouble and running away for weeks at a time?
Lin thought it over for a moment and smiled. A half-dozen plump American teenagers would go a long way to keeping the meat locker full and keeping one of the restaurant workers out of the wok.
Other employees chimed in, helpfully offering various un-liked or undesirable relatives and acquaintances. Everyone suddenly realized this was the perfect way to get rid of annoying family members and make a tidy profit at the same time. Soon everyone would be free of those lazy aunts, dim-witted nieces and bitchy sisters, not to mention irritating spouses and girlfriends.
“Finally, for the long run,’ Hong asked one of the younger men, don’t you have a cousin who runs a people-smuggling ring? I hear they sneak thousands of people into the States every year. For a nice price, could your cousin ‘divert’ a few of them a month? Naturally, we will compensate the families of anyone sent to us. I’m sure many of the families will be pleased. Rather than wait years for their relatives to pay off the smuggling debt, they can get cash right away. And no need to worry about the authorities catching them and sending them home penniless.”
The man nodded, assuring everyone an endless supply of authentic Chinese food right off the dock. Everyone knew Chinese tatsted best, but off course they could soon branch out into Mexican, Hindu, and other varieties. Naturally some good old American white and dark meats would be used to fill out the menu. Prosperity was assured. After all, this was America, where fortunes could be made and anything was possible.
Thankfully, they all raised a glass in salute to what was left of dear Ai-Ling. Her bare skull stared back at them as they saluted her for showing them the way.
Uncle Hong was the last to finish his toast. He picked up the skull and carried it over to the garbage disposal. As he got ready to toss it in, everyone happily chimed in “After all, we needed a pig.” With that, Ai-Ling disappeared forever.