Story: SB110 Buffalo Wings


Posted by Sawney Beane on July 04, 2007 at 13:47:00:

The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #110

BUFFALO WINGS

by Sawney Beane

13-14 April 2004

1,870 words

DISTRIBUTION NOTICE and DISCLAIMER: Sawney Beane requests that any distribution of this work of fiction remain within the realm of social responsibility. This story is suitable neither for minors nor for the seeming majority of adults who have difficulty distinguishing fantasy from reality. It is pure fantasy, which means that, for whatever reason, someone has found it interesting to think about the events depicted herein. It does not in any way mean that the author would like to see this fantasy become reality, so if you are the type of person who might be swayed into doing something irrational by reading a work of fiction, the author respectfully requests that you decline to read further.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Sawney Beane, originally a native of Edinburgh, lived for twenty-five years in a cave on the coast of County Galloway, subsisting on the flesh of unfortunate travellers, roughly a thousand of them all told. He and his wife raised a large family of eight sons, six daughters, eighteen grandsons, and fourteen granddaughters. Eventually, the family was captured, and the whole lot was brutally and unjustifiably tortured and executed without trial. Since his death in the early 17th century, Beane has reformed his ways and now confines his atrocities to his literary endeavours.

WARNING: This story contains scenes of snuff and consensual gynophagia. If you find such things offensive, please steer clear; you have been warned.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a story for Tish. It is inspired by her description of an interesting restaurant and turned out a little bit more of an unrealistic fantasy than I had originally intended, but it might work.
----------
Tish giggled playfully as she dragged her friend Alexander toward the restaurant she had spoken so highly of. She was certain he would love the place as much as she did, but he was taking his time walking across the parking lot, and, as she was considerably smaller than he was, her dragging was not making him move much faster.

Eventually, they walked though the doors of the Buffalo Wing Palace, and she marched right up to the counter and ordered two-dozen wings doused in her favourite sauces. The pair grabbed drinks, found a table, and sat down to enjoy the feast. Tish could hardly wait to see how Alexander would appreciate her fine taste in restaurants.

But he didn't immediately eat. As he so often did, he stared fixedly into her eyes and watched her reactions as she bit into the first of the garlic sauce coated wings. He watched as the sauce seeped through her fingers and leaked onto the corners of her lips. He watched the smile of delight as the familiar taste washed over her. As usual, his hypnotic gaze made her feel vaguely uncomfortable. It made her feel small and vulnerable. And yet, in a very odd way, it also made her feel safe and...relaxed.

Just when she thought she could take it no longer, a smile appeared gradually and spread across his face as he reached for one of the hot sauce covered wings. He ate the morsel silently without seeming to flinch from the spice. Tish ate two more wings, growing ever more alarmed at the lack of enthusiasm her companion was showing for the food.

After fifteen minutes, Alexander abruptly picked up the plate carrying the remaining wings and dumped them into the waste bin. He sat moodily back down next to her saying, "The sauces are great, but I don't know how you can stand that awful chicken."

Tish was more than a little bit disconcerted, but she was rendered speechless by his incredible rudeness. As she struggled to formulate a coherent protest against his disposal of the rest of her dinner, she reached for a napkin to wipe the residual sauce from her sticky fingers. He stopped her, taking her wrist in his hand and saying, "Allow me, dear." As he conscientiously licked the sauce from her hand and fingers, she began to notice that, although he was the one licking the fiery hot sauces, she was the one who was beginning to feel a familiar feeling of warmth spreading deep within her body. She forgot to be angry with him.

When all of her fingers were scrupulously cleaned, he paused to lick the spicy sauces from her lips, and the warmth grew within her. Then he was gone with a brisk, "Wait here, Tish!" He bounded off with surprising enthusiasm, and she was left to wonder about the odd feelings that we beginning to envelop her.

He returned after several minutes with an armful of bottles of wing sauce. He had at least one of each of the dozen or so flavours and several duplicates of some of her favourite sauces. He arranged the bottles in an array across the edge of the table and tore off the lid from a large bottle of Teriyaki sauce.

She watched in detached fascination as he grasped her left wrist and poured globs of the sauce over her forearm from wrist to elbow. Splotches of the sweet dark liquid spattered onto her clothing and the tablecloth. He took her elbow in his other hand and pulled her arm to his lips like an ear of corn on the cob. She stared in silent astonishment as his shiny white teeth flashed and chomped down on her arm.

There was surprisingly little pain and only a little bit of blood, but when he gave her back her sauce-covered arm, there was definitely a substantial chunk of her flesh missing. It felt a bit irritating like a bee sting, but nothing like she would have expected. She emitted a small, belated protest as she saw her damaged forearm, but her expressive brown eyes were broadcasting a mixture of feelings that included horror, fear, excitement, intense arousal, and everything in between.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she thought that this must be a bad thing, but all she could concentrate on was the ever-spreading warmth within her and the feeling of peace and security his gaze imparted to her. "Now that's good meat!" he exclaimed sentimentally.

She blinked and tried to remember what she'd had to drink, but there was nothing that should have so obscured her judgement. He was finishing his first bite and had uncorked the bottle of Sweet Barbecue sauce. She did not object as he slavered the sauce on her left hand and subsequently bit a large chunk from the edge of her palm. Again this was not so unpleasant as she thought it should be.

Before she could adequately comprehend this second wound, she found her upper arm coated in Mesquite sauce, and his teeth gently consuming a portion of her bicep. She stared at him and her tattered arm with an odd detachment. There was a strange dreamlike quality to the moment, but she knew intuitively that she was experiencing something real and permanent. She knew she should stop him; she knew that she should call for help, but something deep within her psyche restrained her panic. He smiled reassuringly, and she knew everything was going to be fine.

She did not object when he ripped open her white blouse, spraying tiny buttons across the table. The blouse was already ruined by the stray sauces, and at the moment she was largely oblivious to the embarrassment of being undressed in a public restaurant. He slid the blouse off of her arms and spread globs of Mild Buffalo wing sauce over her left shoulder before sinking his sharp teeth deep into her flesh again. Her body tensed as it lost another bit of flesh, but her internal temperature was still rising and she was beginning to see sparks around the edges of her blurring vision.

He was in the process of spreading the Medium Buffalo wing sauce across a portion of her ribs when a frantic waitress rushed over to the table. "Sir! Sir! You can't do that here!" she screamed at him. Tish felt a little bit alarmed by her, but the waitress seemed a distant unimportant entity.

Alexander dug his teeth into Tish's side and took another luxurious bite. He chewed languorously as he answered the waitress' protests. "If the lady doesn't object, why should you?" he asked her.

"What?"

"You don't mind, do you, Tish dear?"

"No," she murmured through the sparkling haze, "not at all!"

"See? Now, leave us alone, please," he growled at the waitress like a wolf protecting a bone.

"I'm going to get the manager," the flabbergasted waitress exclaimed and stalked off toward the kitchen.

But Alexander had already doused Tish's belly with Garlic sauce, and Tish was soon missing a chunk from her trim midriff. He was slipping the jeans down her hips and thighs to reveal the black thong panties beneath. He took the time to completely remove her jeans, shoes, and socks before dripping Caribbean sauce across one of the juicy globes of her rump. She jumped slightly as he removed an especially large bite from her luscious arse, but the sting quickly subsided into her general feeling of peaceful excitement.

After he had spread her limp body across the large table and spread a generous dose of Thai sauce down her thigh, the manager appeared. "Excuse me, sir, but I wonder if I might have a word with you?"

"What can I do for you?" Alexander replied amicably while chewing a substantial bite of Tish's thigh.

"Well, sir, it's just that it's strictly speaking against our store rules for the patrons to eat one another in the restaurant. I'm sure you understand."

"No, I don't understand," Alexander said as he spread Spicy Barbecue sauce down Tish's shapely calf. "Tish here seems quite willing for you to bend the rules." He pointed at her dazed and blinking face. "Ask her yourself."

Alexander sank his teeth into Tish's succulent calf just as the manager was bending over to talk to her. "Ma'am, are you ok?"

"Oh, yes, yes, fantastic," she replied, having difficulty concentrating.

"Um, you're sure you don't want me to make him stop?"

"No! No, don't let him stop."

"Well, it's just that I'm not sure what I should do in this situation; it hasn't happened here before."

Tish's sight was failing, and the fireworks were exploding all through her body, but she struggled to answer the question. "Well, you could have a nibble yourself."

The manager looked Tish's multi-sauce covered body over with a large dose of uncertainty and more than a little bit of desire. It was clear that he found her appetizing but felt restrained by his duty. Meanwhile Alexander was licking Spicy Buffalo sauce off of her feet and had removed several of her toes in the process.

"Yes, go ahead, just try me!"

The manager gave in to desire at the expense of duty and bowed to tentatively nibble at the edge of the wound in Tish's Mild Buffalo sauce-covered shoulder. Once he had tasted her delicious flesh, he ventured a larger bite and was soon feeding enthusiastically on her ruined shoulder. The enraged waitress who had summoned him stormed off in disgust to look in vain for another supporter.

Alexander was meanwhile ripping off Tish's bra and exposing her shapely firm young breasts to a shower of Crazy Buffalo sauce. The manager was moving down her arm toward the Mesquite bicep and seemed quite taken away with his new delicacy. Meanwhile, Alexander sank his teeth into her breast and neatly extracted her rock-hard dark nipple. Her abused body tensed with back arched, and a low moan slid through her lips as the world exploded around her. Alexander took a few more bites from her breast before removing her thong and pouring Flamin' Buffalo sauce between her legs.

By this time, several other curious patrons, both male and female had ventured over to the table and asked permission to join the feast. Tish moaned her assent to each new applicant, and each hungry patron struggled to claim an unoccupied position at the perimeter of her rapidly diminishing body. Tish felt the teeth of two dozen hungry people digging into her flesh, and everything seemed so right, so perfect, so tremendously pleasant.

The Flamin' Buffalo sauce stung her genitals, which she pressed firmly against Alexander's teeth as he prepared to taste the last sauce. Her back arched, the dozen mouths nipped at her writhing body, and Alexander ripped the most sacred flesh from her body. She emitted a moan of pleasure and pain, fear and bliss, excitement and peace. Alexander and the others continued to consume her now helpless body.

The last distinct sound she heard as the din of excited diners enveloped her waning consciousness was, in the clear and unmistakeable accent of the Scottish lowlands, "Tish, my dear, you certainly are delish'!"