Posted by Sawney Beane on June 23, 2007 at 13:27:35:
The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #105
DOING THE DISHES
by Sawney Beane
22 November 2003
1,789 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...well, nothing much really....just kinky eroticism for a change. No one gets maimed or killed for once. If you find such things offensive (but, come on, why should you), please steer clear; you have been warned.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: An idea that came to me during a long boring flight.
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He came home finally. She had been home for half an hour and had already changed into jeans and a skimpy cotton top. She was waiting for him eagerly. But when he arrived, he put down his briefcase by the door and kissed her briefly before sitting heavily on the sofa and staring fixedly at the wall.
She was disappointed. There had always been a few days when he was not in the mood to play with her, but she feared that after five years together, these days were becoming more frequent. Perhaps the spark had gone out of their relationship. It might have been her imagination, but she felt hurt and lonely.
Nonetheless, she did her best imitation of a lap cat, curling up her lithe young body and nestling her head into his tired chest. He did not respond, but she took comfort in his slow steady breathing. He always made her feel small; it was one of the things she liked about him.
For nearly five minutes, he did not give her any hope. Eventually, he gently pushed her a little bit away from him so that he could look into her deep lonely eyes. His face was still desolate and exhausted, but his eyes began to take on the devilish look that always brought her good luck.
He pulled her to him and kissed her, much more passionately than before. She began to feel that the evening might not be lost entirely. She felt his big hands holding her lower back and felt secure and helpless at the same time. He was hugging her tightly, the way he often did, as if he thought she might be a dream that he wanted to keep from drifting away. She started to slip one of her small hands down his pants.
Suddenly, he pushed her away, and she found herself on the other end of the sofa. His face was no longer tired, but he stared at her sternly. Before she could decide how to feel about this sudden rejection, he issued an order in a soft measured voice. "Close the windows and take off your clothes."
The familiar thrill ran through her body. It was going to be one of those nights. Things were turning out much better than she expected. She stood up and did a little dance a few feet in front of him as she pulled the flimsy shirt over her head and flicked her golden hair in his direction. She was about to remove the baby blue sports bra when he spoke to her again. There was humour in his voice, but also a little bit of reprimand. "My dear little one, when I tell you to do two things, please be so kind as to do them in the order I tell you!"
She pouted theatrically before walking to the large picture window and drawing closed the blinds. She would miss another opportunity to show her body off to the neighbours; he always wanted to keep her all to himself.
Once the windows were securely covered, she popped herself out of the sports bra and threw it playfully in his direction. Then she unzipped her jeans and slid them down her shapely hips, kicking them across the room when they reached her ankles. Her panties soon followed. She was already barefoot, so her mission was accomplished, and she stood in front of him waiting for her next instruction.
Whenever she was naked while he was fully clothed, she felt the exciting vulnerability that she craved. She always felt perfectly safe and secure when she was with him, but the power she surrendered to him made every inch of her lovely body tingle. He pulled her towards him and remained sitting while she stood for him. He inspected her skin closely, searching for imperfections that were not there. Occasionally he gently kissed parts he especially liked.
He took his time and examined her whole body. She waited patiently as the thrill coursed through her veins. Eventually, he pronounced her acceptable and gave her further instructions. "Go get cleaned up; I'm making dinner."
She smiled and nodded her head dutifully. He went to the kitchen and started rattling dishes while she went to the bathroom and took a long shower. He was very particular about cleanliness sometimes, so she made sure to scrub herself thoroughly. She shaved her legs and armpits thoroughly and climbed out of the shower. She returned to the kitchen wearing only sandals.
When she arrived, he looked her over and gave his approval. He directed her to sit on the heavy wooden dining room table. It was strong enough to easily support her modest weight. She sat and waited while he took a few pans off the burners and cleaned up the kitchen a little bit. Then he returned his attention to her.
First, he braided her shoulder-length blonde hair. He had skill at this since he'd done it many times before. He had three pieces of cotton rope ready for her. The first he used to tie her elbows together in a point behind her head. She didn't resist, despite the slight discomfort this caused her, but it increased her feeling of helplessness. The other two pieces of rope were used to tie her right wrist to her left arm and her left wrist to her right arm. When he was done, she was sitting with her arms behind her head and her shoulders cradled in her secured hands.
He helped her to recline near the edge of the table, and she knew what game they would play today. It was one of her favourites. Her arms formed a comfortable pillow for her excited head.
First he arrived at the table with a thick carrot. This was a new feature she had not seen before. He said he didn't know where to keep it and that he thought it should be a warm place. Then he had an inspiration.
He spread her legs slightly and slid the tip of the carrot into her vagina. She was already very wet, so this was an easy task. He slid it all the way in until only the bushy green leaves showed outside her, but he was apparently not quite satisfied with its position, so he pulled it out and slid it back in several times before he declared it well placed. In the meantime, her eyes were rolling back in her head, and she started feeling the small explosions deep inside her.
Next he decorated both of her breasts with a pineapple ring around each nipple. It was a classic touch. When she was on her back, her breasts separated to create a nice valley, which he was now filling with spoonfuls of mashed potatoes. They had cooled somewhat since he'd removed them from the stove several minutes earlier, but they were still hot enough to cause her to wince. Next he plopped an inch thick steak onto the plateau of her abdomen and filled her navel with a dollop of creamy horseradish. He even made use of the slight bowl-like depressions of her smoothly shaven armpits that were created when her arms were tied behind her head as they were. These he filled with his special mushroom and onion gravy.
Dinner was served, and he paused with fork and sharp knife in hand to admire his food and his splendid plate. She shuddered with delight as he sat beside her and dug into his meal.
He ate slowly and carefully. The knife slicing through the thick steak scraped her belly, but he was careful. These would show up that evening as thin red marks, but they would disappear by the following day leaving no permanent flaw in her perfect skin. The steak was cooked medium rare, and red bloody juice spread across the surface of her body as he ate. Each bite he would dip into either the horseradish in her navel or the mushroom sauce in her armpits or both. Sometimes, he would even cut a chuck of pineapple to accompany a bite, which caused gentle knife scrapes across the tender skin of her breasts.
He shared the meal with her, of course. Many of the bites he ate himself, but many others he placed on her lips. It was difficult to swallow in her position, but she managed it and enjoyed the meal immensely. He was almost as good a cook as she was a good plate.
The oddest thing of all about this situation was that he a carried on a normal dinner conversation with her throughout, asking her about her day and other matters, completely ignoring the fact that she was more than just a dinner companion tonight. He had always said she was quite a dish.
When all of the steak and potatoes had been devoured, he crassly licked his plate. He cleaned all of the juice, sauces, and potatoes from her aroused body. He cleaned her armpits, breasts, chest, belly, and navel all with special attention to detail. When he was done, she was almost as clean as she had been coming out of the shower, and her eyes had rolled back in her head a few more times.
Then he remembered his carrot. He wiggled it around a little bit before extracting it from its hiding place. Then she watched as he ate it slowly and appreciatively. He commented favourably on its special sauce.
Then he announced his intention of having dessert. Before she knew it, there were three scoops of ice cream resting coldly between her breasts. The chill penetrated her but was insufficient to reduce the heat she felt inside. Chocolate sauce soon covered the ice cream as well as her breasts and armpits. Whipped cream followed in all these areas, and a cherry appeared in her navel.
He scooped spoonfuls of his dessert into his mouth and hers. The ice cream was melting quickly on her hot body and running down her belly. When it was all gone, he again licked the plate clean, beginning with her armpits, paying special attention to her sticky breasts, scouring her chest and belly, devouring the cherry from her bellybutton, and carefully chasing a few drops of melted ice cream that had run all the way down between her legs. Once he was there, he seemed intent on consuming more than just some stray ice cream.
She rocked with pleasure and knew that this situation was likely to get even messier before it got completely clean. Fortunately, the heavy wooden table was strong enough to support his weight in addition to hers. He was always very conscientious about doing the dishes after dinner.