Rariturkey!
by The Bizarre One

It was a seemingly normal day in November as Sweetie Belle and Rarity headed home from school when Sweetie looked up at her big sister oddly.

“Rarity? What’s up with you lately?” she asked.

Rarity, who’d been humming contentedly with a decided spring in her step, looked down at her. “What ever do you mean, Sweetie?”

“I mean, for the past few weeks, you’ve been acting so much happier than I’ve seen you in a long time, unless you’re working on one of your designs,” Sweetie said. “It’s like you suddenly turned into Pinkie Pie!”

Rarity chuckled. “Oh, Sweetie… I’m just excited for tomorrow, that’s all!”

“Tomorrow?” Sweetie looked confused. “Rarity, it’s Thanksgiving. You’re never excited for Thanksgiving… you always say it’s just an excuse for people to stuff themselves and that someone like you can’t afford to do that kind of thing because it’ll ruin your figure!” She made a face. “It really bugs Mom that you aren’t happy for her when it’s one of her big days, you know.”

Rarity chuckled again. “Sweetie… that was before, this is now. it’s my first Thanksgiving since my eighteenth birthday after all, and Father promised to make it a special one.”

Sweetie looked at her oddly. “Whatever you say…”

“Trust me, you’ll understand when you get to be my age,” Rarity told her. “Now, let’s get home.”

Sweetie Belle followed after her, still not sure what was up. But if it made Rarity happy, it was probably something good.

---

The next morning, Sweetie Belle awoke late and quickly smelled something tasty. Smiling, she hurried to get dressed, then headed downstairs.

“Dad?” she asked as she stepped into their foyer.

“Oh, Sweetie!”

Sweetie Belle looked up to see… “Mom?!” she gasped. “What - why aren’t you in the oven?!” For as long as she could remember, her mother had always been cooked for their Thanksgiving dinner, and had then automatically revived by the next morning, just in time for the yearly sales that started that day.

Cookie Crumbles blushed and tucked her robe closer around her. “Well, it’s a long story, Sweetie,” she said.

Sweetie nodded and looked up at her mom. “I just hope it makes sense,” she said. “When you and Dad said you were going in the kitchen to ‘stuff the bird’ last night, I figured you’d be on the table by the time I got up this morning. I was really looking forward to that.”

Cookie blushed even deeper, and Sweetie grinned. She might not be eighteen yet (just two more years!), but even she knew her parents had a very active sex life (she was still amazed that they hadn’t had any more kids after her), and that ‘stuffing the bird’ didn’t just mean preparing Cookie for the oven.

Footsteps sounded, and then Sweetie’s father, Hondo Flanks, stuck his head in the room. “Did I hear my baby girl up and about?” he asked, grinning.

Sweetie grinned. “Hi, Daddy.”

“Hi, sweetheart.” Crossing the room, Hondo scooped her up into a hug and swung her around, making her squeal in delight. When he’d set her down, he ruffled her hair. “Dinner’ll be on the table in just a few minutes,” he said. “Sorry, but you can’t come in until then. Don’t want to ruin the surprise.”

Sweetie was about to say something when she felt Cookie’s hand on her shoulder, squeezing it fondly. “Come on, baby,” she said. “Daddy needs my help, but you’ll have to wait in the other room.”

Sweetie nodded, but looked confused. “Okay…” She looked around. “Um, by the way? Where’s Rarity?”

“She’s in the kitchen,” Hondo said. “Helping with dinner.”

Sweetie blinked. “Really?” Rarity had never helped fix Thanksgiving dinner before, aside from setting the table. Not that Sweetie had helped much either… she might have come a long way from her ‘burning juice’ days, but no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t seem to figure out anything more complicated than a sandwich, and even those were rarely edible to anyone but herself. (And possibly her mom, seeing as how Cookie still asked her to make those peanut butter and salami sandwiches from time to time.)

Cookie nodded. “You’ll see her soon. She said she couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when we unveiled her special dish.”

“Okay.” Sweetie Belle smiled, hugged her, and then went to sit in the living room.

---

About ten minutes later, everything was ready, and Sweetie Belle went into the dining room. The table was covered in sides, plus a large covered platter. Rarity was nowhere to be seen.

As she took her seat, Sweetie Belle looked around. “I still don’t see Rarity…” she said, looking at her parents.

Hondo grinned. “Of course you do,” he said. “Here she is!”

With a flourish, he removed the covering from the platter, revealing… Rarity.

Rarity on her hands and knees, most of her skin a crispy golden brown. But she was still recognizable as Sweetie’s sister, her neck and head still alive and uncooked, a brilliant smile on her face.

Sweetie Belle went wide-eyed, while Rarity grinned at her. “Happy Thanksgiving, Sweetie,” she said.

“Rarity… how… why…” Sweetie shook her head. “Why are you our dinner?!” she all but shrieked.

Cookie smiled. “It’s what she wanted, Sweetie,” she said. “Rarity’s been dreaming of this day for years. She’s eighteen, she can legally be cooked… and she asked to be our family’s Thanksgiving turkey girl in my place, just like I took over the position for my mother when I turned eighteen. For a few years, at least, until I moved out.” She patted Sweetie’s head. “Don’t worry about never eating me again though - we made a deal, and I’m still the Christmas ham this year.”

Rarity giggled. “A fitting position for such a porker,” she said, winking at Cookie.

Sweetie stared at her sister, stunned at hearing those words from her. “How…”

“Relax, dear,” Cookie told her. “Rarity’s just grown up, that’s all. Now that she’s old enough to be popped in the oven anytime she wants, she’s learned to lighten up and not take things so seriously.”

“And your sister’s going to be just as tasty as her mom is,” Hondo added, before he picked up a cleaver in one hand and Rarity’s hair in the other, holding it out of the way. “Get ready, sweet cheeks… and mind your head!”

Chuckling at his own lame joke, he brought the blade down, severing the head and neck from Rarity’s body in a single blow.

Rarity let out a squeal as her head fell and bounced off the table, then shook herself and looked up at her father. “Thank you, Father,” she said, beaming.

Hondo smiled. “You’re welcome, Rarity,” he said, before reaching over and taking what looked like a vertical chicken roaster from the table behind him. Sweetie remembered how he’d always mounted Cookie’s head on it during the meals where she’d been their main course, and now watched in fascination as he put Rarity’s head on it.

Once she’d settled in, Rarity smiled at the family. “Well then,” she said. “It’s time for all of you to sit down, give thanks and eat me!”

Sweetie Belle giggled, while Cookie reached over and patted her eldest’s head. “I’m so glad you’re into this now,” she said.

“Yes, well…” Rarity blushed. “To be honest, I knew how happy you were to be food for us… and now that it’s my turn, I see what you mean,” she said. “It is just delightful, giving of myself and being a treat for my family.”

Hondo chuckled as he began carving her body, slicing a plump buttock off and putting it on his plate, while giving Cookie the other before flipping Rarity’s body over so it was breast-side up. Sweetie got a leg, as always, and Hondo cleaved the other one off, setting it aside before he began carving Rarity’s cunt steak from between her legs and dividing it in half, taking one for himself and serving the other to his wife. “Prep was fun too, wasn’t it?” he asked.

“It certainly was,” Rarity said with a fond smile. “Shall I describe it to Sweetie? She’ll get her own turn at it when she’s old enough, after all.”

Sweetie Belle grinned at the thought of being where her sister was. “I’m all ears!”

---

The night before…

“G’night, Sweetie!” Hondo called. “Your mom and I are going to stuff the bird now, so we’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Okay!” Sweetie hurried upstairs into her bedroom and shut the door, leaving the two adults to grin at one another.

“Think she knows?” Cookie asked.

Hondo shook his head. “Rarity swears she hasn’t given it away, and we know you and I haven’t either.”

Cookie smiled. “I’ve been looking forward to this…” she said, before the pair went into the kitchen, finding Rarity waiting beside the rack on their special table, with a built-in chair at one end, while a tub of brine sat nearby.

“It’s time?” she asked eagerly.

“It’s time,” Hondo said. “Just one last thing before you get in to soak…”

Rarity beamed. “Thank you for this, Father… Mother.” Laying down onto the table as her parents stripped down, she let them strap her in, and then Cookie sat in the chair, spreading her legs.

“That’s it, dear,” she said as Rarity dove in, smiling as she buried her tongue in her mother’s cunt.

Hondo, meanwhile, pressed his cockhead (lubed by his wife’s mouth just a little bit ago) against Rarity’s virgin hole and, taking a deep breath, pushed in, causing her to gasp heavily as he penetrated her.

“Good girl,” Cookie said. “You’re taking it like a champ!”

Rarity declined to respond, focused as she was on the flesh between her mother’s legs. But she felt her father’s thick cock pumping in and out of her, and gasped in delight from the sensation. He’d promised her this when she asked to be the Thanksgiving turkey, and finally losing her virginity to her father had proven every bit as wonderful as she’d dreamed… of course, sucking him off - as she had on her birthday and most nights since after Sweetie went to bed - had been fun too. But this was what they’d really been building towards.

Finally, he came in streams inside her, and she shuddered as her mother’s cunt clenched around her tongue, even as her own tightened around her father’s member. Sighing in delight, when she had finally caught her breath and was able to speak again, she looked up at both of them. “That was wonderful…”

Both grinned, and then began unstrapping her from the rack before helping her into the tub.

“See you in the morning, sweetheart,” Hondo said, smiling. “Have a good night!”

Rarity smiled back as they turned out the lights, and then left to go upstairs.

---

The next morning…

Rarity’s eyes flicked open to see a thick white cock in front of her, and she grinned. “Good morning, Father,” she said.

“Morning, Rarity,” Hondo said. “Feel like a little breakfast before we get you in the oven?”

Rarity smiled. “I would love it,” she said, and lifted one dripping arm out of the tub, grasping her father’s member and gently tucking it onto her mouth to suck on.

Another chuckle caused her to look up and see her mother watching, beaming at the expression on Rarity’s face. “You look so beautiful like that,” she said.

If Rarity’s mouth hadn’t been full, she would have said “Thank you, Mother.” Instead, she just bobbed her head up and down on Hondo’s cock, teasing it with her tongue. Finally, he came, and she gulped down the delicious load before letting him go and standing up, the salt water dripping from her body as she did so.

Stepped out of the tub and onto the mat beside it, she accepted a towel from her mother and ran it over, letting her mother finish the job of patting her dry before looking at the rack on the table where she’d lain the night before and smiling.

“Help me up?” she asked, batting her eyes at her parents.

Both of them chuckled, and within minutes, Rarity was once again in the rack, and began to giggle as Hondo and Cookie started brushing her with cooking oil.

When they were done, they wheeled the rack over to the oven and, opening the door, slid her in, latching the rack into place and then snapping the door shut over her head (it, like most ovens, had a special design with a padded hole that kept a girl’s head outside the oven while sealing the heat in with the rest of her body). Patting her daughter’s head once more, Cookie put her robe on and went to work with her husband on fixing the sides. When that was done, she pulled up a chair and sat down next to the oven.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

“Oh, just wonderful,” Rarity told her. “It was so warm at first… I felt that thin layer of fat under my skin bubbling away, and somehow, it felt good. But I think most of the feeling has cooked out of my body by now… I should be done in just another few hours.”

Cookie smiled. “’Atta girl,” she said. “Taking it like a champ…”

Rarity nodded. “Is this… what it’s like for you?” she asked.

Cookie nodded back. “Though usually I have stuffing inside me,” she said. “You really should have let your father give you the full treatment…”

Rarity shook her head. “Maybe next time,” she said. “But this time, I wanted my own pure flavor, brought out by the salt, for you and Father and Sweetie. I know the plain oven-baked dressing isn’t quite the same, but Sweetie has liked it before.”

Cookie smiled. “All right,” she said. “Next time though… you’ll get enough stuffing to make you as round as me.”

Rarity giggled. “Deal, Mother.”

---

It was another few hours before Rarity heard her sister’s voice, and watched as Cookie stepped out of the room to intercept her.

From there on, things went very fast, as Hondo pulled her from the oven and moved her body, cooked to perfection, onto the platter. Setting the lid over her, he wheeled her into the dining room, set her on the table, and finally took the lid off, exposing her roasted but appetizingly nude body to a much-shocked Sweetie Belle, and making Rarity wish they’d set up a camera to capture the look on her face.

---

“And that was that,” Rarity concluded. “It was one of the most exquisite experiences of my life, and I cannot wait to go through it again.”

Sweetie Belle had been eating steadily through her sister’s story, even as she listened carefully. Finally though, she set her fork down, leaned over, and kissed her sister’s head.

“You were amazing,” she said. “I haven’t eaten anything that tasty since… Mom!”

Rarity chuckled. “Thank you, Sweetie,” she said with a smile.

“I’ll second that,” Hondo said, and Cookie nodded in agreement. Raising their glasses, both beamed, Sweetie Belle grabbing up her own and raising it too before Hondo spoke again. “A toast to our roast… Rarity Belle, a wonderful daughter and a delicious dinner!”

“Hear hear!” the group chorused.

---

Epilogue
The next morning…

Rarity’s eyes flittered open, and she smiled, not at all surprised to find herself back in her own bed, with the clock beside it giving the time as just after sunrise. She’d been told this would happen, that her original head would die after a few hours and her full body would reappear in her bed afterward… just like her mother’s had reappeared in Hondo’s bed so many times.

Rising, she went into the restroom to handle her usual tasks, and then slipped on a robe and went downstairs to the living room, where she gazed up at the spot over the family fireplace. Her mother’s head, mounted on a plaque, had graced this location for many years with her name, the words “Beloved Wife” and a year on it, representing the first time she’d been cooked for her husband’s dinner, with “Beloved Mother” and the year of Rarity’s birth added later. Hondo’s own head, with “Beloved Husband”, hung next to his wife’s. (It wasn’t too often that men became food, but it happened from time to time; since their wedding, he’d been cooked for his wife’s birthday at least once and then insisted on having his head mounted to commemorate the occasion.)

Now, a third plaque had been hung beside her parents’ heads, with Rarity’s original head on it. Beneath it were the words “Rarity Belle, Beloved Daughter - Thanksgiving 20–”.

Smiling at the sight, Rarity went back upstairs to get dressed. She had a busy day of shopping to get ready for.

And hopefully some friends to meet up and compare notes with. Not all of them would have been old enough to cook for Thanksgiving, she knew, but at least Pinkie, Applejack and Fluttershy were (Rainbow Dash had grumbled for months about having to wait until January before she could get cooked for the first time, and she wasn’t sure at all about Sunset and Twilight), and she couldn’t wait to hear how their own experiences compared with hers.

The End