Story: SB140 The Farewell Party


Posted by Sawney Beane on August 27, 2007 at 23:18:02:

The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #140

THE FAREWELL PARTY

by Sawney Beane

1 March 2007

1,835 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 discussion of socially acceptable snuff and gynophagia with a reluctant dinner. If you find such things offensive, please steer clear; you have been warned.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Some more quaint customs in a cannibal world.

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The guests began arriving at around 6:00 pm. It was a measure of politeness to be relatively prompt for such a gathering, so by 6:30, there were nearly 50 people in Jane's flat. It was a bit crowded, but people seemed to be enjoying themselves, especially for the first two hours when the main order of business was to get everyone comfortably inebriated. Of course, there was serious business to follow, so it was a fine line between relaxed and embarrassingly intoxicated. Most people were experienced enough to know the difference.

At precisely 8:00, Jane began reading the Will. She found it easier than she had expected it to be. Somehow there was a foggy distance between her and the list of her possessions, which she was steadily distributing amongst her gathered friends and family. Her boyfriend Steve stood comfortingly by her side the whole time and helped her distribute the small things like jewellery and souvenirs to her girlfriends. She left the house to her younger sister Susie. Susie's eyes filled with tears, but Jane wasn't sure if it was sisterly love or happiness at possessing a choice piece of centre city property.

By 8:30, Jane found herself bereft of possessions. Even the clothes on her back had been willed to her friends, although for now they granted her leave to continue wearing them. But that would not last.

A little pause for polite conversation lasted until 9:00, at which point, her friends began a playful chant of "Let's see it! Let's see it!" It was always like this, and it was the signal that Jane should start stripping. The alcoholic haze made this traditional ordeal a bit more endurable, and she felt increasingly carefree as she removed and distributed her clothing around the room. She made it as dramatic and titillating as she knew how. And sooner than she would have liked, she found herself stark naked in a room full of clothed people.

Her friends, especially the female ones, began with big smiles on their faces to peer critically at Jane's neatly trimmed patch of black pubic hair, and many took the opportunity to run their fingers through it. Jane tried not to show the secret pleasure this gave her, and it was no surprise or disappointment when half a dozen of her closest girlfriends dragged her hastily out of the room and into the bath.

While the rest of the party guests continued to drink and socialize, most of their conversation no doubt centred on Jane's current and future experiences, Jane's friends attacked her genitals with scissors and razors and quickly trimmed and then shaved her clean. While the rest finished the job, one of Jane's friends collected the trimmings and sealed a small sample of pubic hair into each of 50 small plastic vials to be distributed as party favours at the end of the night.

Jane rubbed her newly bald genitals and stared down at the evidence of the symbolic transformation she had so suddenly undergone. It seemed more puzzling than disturbing. Here she was without possessions, barely on the edge of humanity, a horrible fate awaiting her in less than 24 hours. All she could think about was the odd lightness in her shoulders and mind. Important things seemed to matter far less to her now than they once had.

Her friends were laughing and smiling, but she knew from experience that it was mixed with other emotions. There was pity and a feeling of loss for their friend, but on top of that there was an anxiety about their own fates, which could well become very similar with only a week's notice.

Jane walked back into the main room at the front of her friends' parade and was greeted by the other guests with gasps and compliments, some in a good-naturedly lewd manner. It was nearly 10:00, and everyone was in a good mood. Even Jane was feeling well.

It was shortly thereafter that Jane wandered across the room to chat with Mike, the husband of her best friend Sally. Jane graciously accepted the polite compliments from the handsome man before saying, "Mike, I've always wanted to know what it was like to fuck you."

Mike smiled, pleased but not surprised. He glanced at Sally who was standing by his side. She gave a somewhat forced smile, but the rules of fidelity were traditionally different in these special circumstances. Mike did technically have the right to deny such a proposition from the hostess of a farewell party, but it was considered extremely rude to do so, and his wife knew very well that it would be wrong to ask him to make such a social gaffe.

After the moment of awkwardness, Mike followed Jane into the bedroom. It was strictly a down to business affair. Mike stripped, and they were in bed together almost instantly. There was some foreplay, but such liaisons were traditionally somewhat limited in duration, both as a consideration to the hostess's party guests and to the guest's spouse. There was some foreplay, but it didn't last long.

Guest and hostess then engaged in a brief bout of quick and unsatisfying carnal contact typical of the socially awkward situation where two people try to consummate their non-intimate acquaintance in the course of half an hour. It was as passionate as prostitution but with the added stressor that the man's spouse was in the next room expecting to hear a detailed play-by-play as soon as it was over.

Afterwards, they showered and returned to the main room amid cheers and laughs from the now progressively pissed party guests. Jane called out two other men. A tall athletic blond named Ben who was the fiancé of her friend Amanda, and her sister's boyfriend Rick. The latter was a gorgeous specimen, and Jane felt little compunction about summoning him to her bed. Susie was getting the flat and the bed with it, so she could damned well deal with her sister having a roll in the hay with her boyfriend. Susie seemed the least concerned of the three significant others in any case, but whether it was care for her doomed sister or anticipation of the riches that would soon be hers remained debatable.

It was after midnight when Jane decided she had had enough. Three call outs was a decent number, typical farewell parties ranging anywhere from zero to five such ritual couplings. The most she had seen was nine, but the woman in question was showing extreme rudeness in her final hour as party guests tend to weary of such a marathon party, and it is extremely rude on the guest's part to depart before everything is done. In any case, Jane had had her fill, and there weren't too many other men in the room for which she had harboured secret desires anyway.

The speeches began then. Jane found this the most difficult part of the whole evening. She first made a short thank you address to all of her guests. The floor was then open and many of her friends and family had their overly formal and maudlin say. Jane wanted it to be over.

At one o'clock, she thanked everyone once again and bade them a fond farewell. There were tears in her eyes, but everything still seemed a bit detached to her. The guests recognized their signal that the party was over and began to file out after each giving their personal condolences, compliments, and comments to Jane and receiving a souvenir vial.

Half an hour later, only Jane and Steve remained in the recently abandoned flat. A deep sadness settled across Jane as she surveyed her very partied-in home. She began to listlessly pick up bits of detritus before quickly coming to the realization that there was no reason not to leave such drudgery to Susie's care the next day.

"Are you ok, honey," Steve asked gently.

"I suppose," Jane replied, "I just feel sad."

"That's natural, dear," he replied. "I think the party went very well."

"I was a little bit disappointed with the call outs," she said a bit morosely.

"Well, dear, it's always a bit of a downer. It's an awkward situation, and the guy is under time limitations with a woman he has not been intimate with before, and he's probably half sloshed. It seldom leads to top performances."

"Yeah, I suppose."

"That and the fact that the wife or girlfriend is waiting outside."

Jane laughed slightly. "Yes, I remember Anne's party."

Steve reddened perceptibly. "Exactly."

"You didn't enjoy it? Anne was my sexiest friend, and she had great tits."

"True, but under the circumstances...."

"I'm sorry you didn't enjoy her."

"It wasn't as bad a Nigel's party."

Jane laughed again, louder this time. "Well, dear, you could have turned him down."

"I didn't want to be rude, and it was his farewell party, poor bugger."

"Yes, but it was rude of him to call you out. Everyone knows a man shouldn't call out another man unless he knows he's gay."

"Well, women do it all the time."

"Rules are different for women."

"Did you think of calling out any women?"

"Why? Does the thought of your girlfriend getting it on with another woman make you hot?"

Steve reddened again. "No, I was just wondering."

"I did consider calling out Susie just to see what she would do. But I really wouldn't have minded a little time alone with Sarah."

"I wouldn't mind that myself."

Jane frowned. "Well, she's single; you can call her up tomorrow if you want."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."

"I know." But the thought had brought back her melancholy.

A brief silence passed between them before Jane finally spoke again. "Don't worry, I don't mind. I'm just sad now."

"Yes, dear."

"I'm going to be hung over tomorrow. I don't want to wake up with a headache on my last day."

"I'm sorry dear."

"I don't think I will sleep anyway. I don't want to sleep because I can't stand the idea of waking up. I wish someone would just slit my throat tonight so I won't have to wake up again tomorrow."

Steve hugged her sympathetically without too much to say.

"Do you want to snuff me, Steve?" Jane asked with an endearing smile.

"You know they'll have me down at the slaughterhouse with you if I do."

"I know, dear, I was only kidding. I don't want you to be in trouble for me." Jane frowned again and was silent for some time.

"Do you want me to go home, baby?"

Jane looked worried. "No, don't go, honey, I don't want to be alone tonight."

"Of course, dear." Steve hugged her tighter.

"Anyway, there was one more man I was thinking of calling out; do you think you could perform under the circumstances?"

"Will I have a time limit?"

"Yes, but I'm not due to check into the slaughterhouse until noon tomorrow, so I'm all yours until then."