SB013 The Conqueror


Posted by Sawney Beane on May 01, 2006 at 17:24:53:

The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #13

THE CONQUEROR

by Sawney Beane

1 July 1994

1,163 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 non-consensual snuff and gynophagia. If you find such things offensive, please steer clear; you have been warned.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is another of my little portraits. It was written the night after I had seen the film Schindler's List (brilliant film). I thought a lot about the scene in which Ralph Fiennes' character is talking to his Jewish maid in the basement and makes the comment that she is not strictly speaking human. That's the sort of attitude that this story is about, but the situation is only very vaguely related.
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The Colonel entered the General's private dining chamber with more than a little hesitation. He pointedly looked around at the ornate panelled walls, the glittering chandelier, the wide windows, everything other than the enraged General and his meal. The confiscated chalet near the Western Front was quite luxurious.

"Damn it, Jenkins, I ordered you to never disturb me while I'm eating!"

The Colonel mumbled his apologies, "Sorry, Sir, but I have important troop movement reports you should look at immediately."

"After I'm done!" replied the General, "It can surely wait that long!" He carved a large chunk of meat and shoved it angrily into his mouth. A feeble moan escaped from the gagged woman tied to the oak table in front of the General.

A sick feeling passed through the Colonel's stomach as he was forced to notice the plight of the young woman and her bloody left shoulder blade. The table was oriented so that he could see the girl's tearful dark brown eyes and long, nearly black hair. Her mouth was filled with tattered cloth, which was held in place by a strip of duct tape around her head. The girl's wrists and ankles were handcuffed to the legs of the table, which were just a bit too far apart for the bondage to be comfortable. "Are you enjoying your dinner, General?" The Colonel attempted to conceal his horror.

The General's manner softened a bit, "Yes, indeed! This is one of the tastiest ones yet. Pull up a chair, there's plenty of good meat."

"No, thank you. I can't quite stomach raw flesh." The Colonel wanted to leave.

The General was more encouraging than offended, "I can't imagine why not. Cooking it takes all of the flavour out of it. It's only as a concession to less hardy people that I cook my meat for the banquets."

The Colonel cringed. He had attended one of the General's banquets and had thrown up immediately when he arrived home. The memory was not pleasant. A distressed young enemy woman with shoulder-length blonde hair and large breasts had been displayed naked before the assembled dignitaries at the beginning of the proceedings. Music, dancing, awards, speeches, and various other events had taken place before the victim returned for the actual meal. This time her eyes were closed, and her teeth clenched a red apple. She did not move or protest as servants sliced servings of steaming meat from her carcass. The Colonel had been forced by decorum to consume a portion of her thigh. He had no memory of the taste. All he knew was he did not like the meal in the least. He had made excuses to avoid attending all subsequent banquets.

The Colonel forced himself out of his painful memory. "To tell the truth, Sir, I don't fancy it at all-raw or cooked."

The General seemed genuinely puzzled, "What's there not to like."

The girl was silent, and her eyes were closed. She seemed relieved that the Officers' conversation was preventing the enlargement of her wounds, which were not yet severe. The General was just beginning his meal.

The Colonel did not know how to answer safely, "It's just that...Sir...I mean, Sir, it is human flesh. Is it right, Sir, to eat human flesh?"

The General stood and took on the attitude of a gentle teacher, "Colonel, you must realize that it's not really human in the strictest sense."

"What is she then?"

"It's an enemy. They're the ones we're fighting. Are you getting soft, Colonel?"

The Colonel's horror began to defeat his restraint, "General, that is a living human woman on your table. You can't just decide she's inhuman and eat her because your job is to take her land and enslave her people. What did she do to you?"

"It's nothing this one did; I've got a hundred of them in my storage rooms downstairs," the General was pleased with the sick expression this provoked on the Colonel's face, "The point is that it's not the same as eating your wife. It's more like eating a cow. They're losing the war they provoked, and they have to pay the price."

The position seemed untenable to the Colonel, but he was aware that he was treading on thin ice. However, the girl gave him a pitiful and grateful look, and he was compelled to press on. "She's as human as you and I. She has parents; she has dreams; she has fantasies; she has feelings; she feels pain!"

"Nonsense, little more than an automaton...a dog...there can't be real pain."

The General was painting himself into a corner. "Not feel pain? Take off her gag and ask her if she feels pain. I suspect she'll disagree with you."

"Well, maybe that's true, but she's a sinner, and she deserves a bit of pain. I'm actually doing her a favour...the other enemy people are dying of starvation. All of my livestock are well fed."

The Colonel could not withhold a slight sneer, "Gotta keep 'em nice and meaty."

The General was embarrassed and angry, "Watch your insubordinate mouth, Colonel!"

The Colonel tried a different strategy, "What's her name?"

"She doesn't have a name."

"Don't be silly; everyone has a name."

"I don't know what it is; I probably couldn't pronounce it anyway."

"Then you don't care."

"It's not important; she's only useful as meat."

"You're not even curious?"

"Not in the slightest."

The Colonel could think of no further response, and the pleading looks of the General's entree could not enlighten him. He could not hope to save her. He felt guilty for prolonging her agony. He turned with an abrupt ankle motion, "General, I see I cannot persuade you, much as I pity your defenceless victim. I hope that you enjoy the rest of your dinner, and I hope that your little nameless enemy woman goes to a more pleasant life in the hereafter. I pity you both." The Colonel strode from the room in a cloud of forced formality. He wondered what unpleasant assignment would await him the following day.

The General gasped in annoyance and surprise. The girl closed her eyes and awaited her doom. A disappointed moan escaped her gag.

The General raised his fork and knife, but stopped before taking another slice. He stood, stared out the window at the beautiful sunset, and began to pace the room. The girl watched him with a faintly renewed hope.

After several indecisive minutes, the General knelt by the girl's face and tore off her gag. "What is you name, bitch?"

The girl gasped in relief and smiled slightly. Her shoulder should heal well enough. "My name is Lily Marcus, Sir, thank you."

The General frowned and returned to his seat. He ignored her shoulder and drove his utensils into her flank and ate greedily. Blood spattered the three hundred year old carpet.

The girl's unobstructed screams reached the ears of the Colonel in his office on the lower floor.