Posted by Sawney Beane on August 05, 2007 at 11:54:47:
The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #128
DIVESTITURE
by Sawney Beane
22 December 2005
752 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 consensual gynophagia. If you find such things offensive, please steer clear; you have been warned.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: A portrait, a simple idea, and a lot of sadness.
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Tom Robey searched through rack after rack looking for the perfect morsel for his celebratory dinner this evening. It wasn't every day that a man's son graduates from medical school, and a fitting celebration is needed to welcome the young buck into the profession.
Tom found the selection almost dizzying, although in a pleasant way. There were large ones, small ones, round ones, flat ones, fat ones, firm ones, dark ones and light ones in dozens of shades. Each of the plastic trays with its shrink-wrapped cargo he looked at offered another possibility. His mind raced, and he thoroughly enjoyed the hunt.
Meanwhile, across town, Olivia Harding stood nude staring at herself in the full-length mirror in her bathroom. Her eyes focused numbly on the horizontal scar that ran across the width of her flat chest. A slender finger traced its length unconsciously.
The doctors had said that she had a good skin type for healing and that in a year the scar would probably not even be visible. Then the last remnants of her once impressive breasts would be gone. A tear ran down Olivia's face and dropped to the floor unimpeded.
Olivia had once considered her breasts her greatest assets. Her breasts had been large but firm and shapely. Her nipples had been well-defined, dark, and beautiful. And she had known exactly how to use them to her advantage, strategically revealing or concealing them as the situation demanded. From the beginning of her early development, they had won for her attention and admiration from both males and fellow females. They had won her sex, gifts, and even a husband. But that was some time ago now.
In the intervening years, her once promising husband had fallen on hard times, and she had stuck by her man through thick and thin, despite the fact that it was mostly thin.
And then one evening, her husband had noted that her greatest assets, while still impressive, were somewhat illiquid and vulnerable to rapid depreciation in the not too distant future. He had suggested a bit timidly that a strategic divestiture could go a long way towards stabilizing their overall portfolio.
She had, of course, been astonished at the suggestion, but he had a backup strategy ready. He reminded her of her mother who had died young of breast cancer and asserted that he would much rather lose some of her than all of her. The repositioning of the plan from a reallocation of investments to a preventative health manoeuvre made her think twice and thrice and so on until eventually she found herself consenting to the procedure.
The doctors had taken care of her. There was no pain; she had been unconscious throughout the routine procedure, and when she awoke feeling light-headed and light-chested, the feeling of loss did not immediately overtake her, especially when she realized how much her sacrifice had contributed to the family fortunes.
It was only later that she found her husband strangely passionless towards her. Even when she did get him into bed, she found to her dismay that he avoided touching the former site of her mammalian glory, which gave her a deeply unsettling sadness. Olivia Harding realized that she had made a monumental mistake, and nothing in the world could correct it.
The Robey family feasted well that evening. Patriarch Tom had come home triumphantly from the market with a tray holding a pair of firm breasts large enough to feed the whole family with second helpings. The shapely mammaries remained fresh and beautiful with dark luscious nipples. Everyone praised Tom's ability to find the best catch available. The feast would set Tom back quite a few quid, but it was worth it. After all, it was a special celebration.
Tom's wife Peggy prepared the feast expertly, roasting the nice pair in her secret recipe sweet melon glaze until they glistened golden brown and delicious. Tom and the kids, newly graduated Tom, Jr., and teens Amy and Derek filed in inhaling the delicate aroma. Everyone clamoured around the table and fought for their share.
Each bite brought forth a sigh of delight from the family members. At no point during the long-savoured meal did anyone give the slightest thought to Olivia Harding, who, at that moment, had gone to bed early across town and was on her back staring at the ceiling and feeling the tears fill her pretty eyes while her once loving husband perched on the far edge of the bed and snored loudly.