Posted by Sawney Beane on September 26, 2006 at 02:16:16:
The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #74
HUMANITY
by Sawney Beane
12 February, 4 March 2000
3,240 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 fairly brutal semi-consensual gynophagia and mutilation. If you find such things offensive, please steer clear; you have been warned. Eating raw meat is dangerous, especially human flesh. Do not try this at home.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a story of cruelty. Cruelty is something that doesn't really appeal to me at all, but this particular manifestation is somewhat fascinating because it involves the psychological cruelty of convincing a woman who has convinced herself that she is meat that she is in fact human and then going ahead and eating her. It is strange and twisted and something to be explored.
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She waited under the enormous metal dome of the serving platter. It was odd, she thought, to see the underside of the cover. She knew it wouldn't be long. She could hear the excited voices on the outside. They reverberated inside, the individual words unclear. She closed her eyes and tried to slow her pounding heart by an act of will. It would all be over soon enough.
Then the cover was lifted, and the voices changed in tone to exclamations of delight. The cover was large, long enough to cover her entire body, but it was lightweight aluminium, and the three nude girls acting as waitresses were able to lift it with some effort. Dinner was served.
She found herself blinking in the sudden light of the chandeliers in the elegant private dining room. Slowly, she was able to focus on the group of people, gathered around her with looks of voracious eagerness. They were about twenty, all men in their twenties or thirties. Typical.
The man sitting closest to her head was clearly the leader. He wore a dark suit and red tie and had a short beard and moustache. His hair was dark and his smile had the self-satisfied air of someone who was in charge and knew it.
The presentation was elegant, yet extremely simple. There were no garnishes or side dishes. It was just her, nude, on her back on a platter in the middle of the long table, her arms at her sides and her feet close together. She tried to keep her composure and not look directly at any of her customers. She stared at the ceiling with a neutral look on her face and her eyes barely open. Any minute the pain would come, and she had to be prepared to resist screaming in the inevitable agony.
She felt the hands grabbing at her and lifting up her limbs, and then she felt the first bite, a sharp pain in her ankle. She bit her tongue and remained silent. Then an amazing thing happened.
"Robert, you know better than that!" shouted the leader at the man who had bitten her ankle. "It's not time to start yet!"
All of the hands released her, and Robert looked embarrassed. The wound in her ankle was not deep, but she felt a trickle of blood running across her skin.
"I apologize for the rudeness of my associates," said the leader to her, "Some of them don't get to come to dinner very often."
She maintained a confused silence.
"How do you feel, my dear?" the man asked gently.
She had witnessed three of these dinners previously, having served as a waitress for three meals, and none of them had gone like this. She was unsure how to react, so she waited in silence.
"Why won't you answer me?" the leader asked a bit impatiently.
"I'm not allowed to talk," she replied quickly and softly.
He laughed a good-natured laugh and smiled conspiratorially at her. "If you don't break the rules now, when will you?"
"Why would you want to talk to your dinner?" she asked timidly.
He laughed again, but his voice was firm. "Look, darling, I paid a lot of money for the pleasure of your company on my platter, and if I want you to talk, then you have to talk."
"But why?
"Because I want you to. The rules are for people who like to eat meat."
"But that's what I am now."
"No, dear, you're not meat. You're a woman."
"But aren't you going to eat me?"
"Of course, but if I wanted to eat meat, I could get a piece of cow for a whole lot cheaper than I got you. You're here because I want to eat a woman and not meat. Women talk."
"I don't understand."
"I'm not surprised. If you were smart, you wouldn't have gotten yourself here now would you? But no matter, I don't want you for your intelligence; I want you for your emotions."
The men at the table began to take on looks of weary impatience. They had no choice but to wait upon their leader's whim, but they were getting hungry, and the presence of a tasty young woman on the platter was making their mouths water.
"So let's begin with introductions," the man continued. "My name is James; what's yours?"
"Why does my name matter?" she said confused.
"Because people have names, and I want you to be a person."
"But I'm just supposed to lie here and be eaten."
"Not today. What's your name, darling?"
"It's Alison."
"Very nice to meet you Alison. You certainly are an attractive woman, Alison."
"Thank you."
"Good enough to eat, in fact." He laughed.
"Thank you."
"Actually, since we're going to be knowing each other so intimately, you can call me Jimmy."
"Intimately?"
"Well, I'm certainly going to know you intimately at any rate!"
"Oh." She was entirely unprepared to deal with this, and she was embarrassed by the looks of astonishment on the faces of the three young waitresses.
"So, come here often?" he smiled mischievously at her.
"What?"
"It's a bad joke, darling," he replied, "but I was wondering why you are here."
"To be eaten."
"Yes, I understand that, but why?"
"Does it matter?"
"Of course! People just don't appear on silver platters for the fun of it, not most people at any rate."
"Oh."
"So, was it the money?"
"Yes," she replied with embarrassed eyes averted.
"Family hard up, eh?"
"Yes."
"I'm sure they'll be very proud of you."
"They tried to talk me out of it, but they really needed it."
"How noble of you!"
She wasn't sure whether or not he was mocking her, so she remained silent.
"How much did they pay for you?"
She quietly named a substantial figure.
"Oh dear, they're ripping you off! I paid three times that much."
She remained silent, but her face revealed her mixed emotions.
"So you'd really rather not be here, wouldn't you?"
"I suppose not."
"But they've trained you well, I see. Well, I'll just have to untrain you a bit."
"But aren't you going to eat me?"
"I think we've been over that. Of course I am, but not until you're a woman again."
"Oh."
"Come, sit up here. You look too dead there on your back."
"What?"
"Sit on the edge of the table next to me."
She obeyed, using muscles she hadn't expected to need to use again to sit up and swing her legs over the edge of the table. She felt the edge of the platter against the backs of her thighs but disregarded the slight discomfort. He didn't seem to mind the trickle of blood from her ankle that smeared onto his pants.
"You certainly are a beautiful one, my dear," he said as he ran his hands up her smooth legs. "I haven't seen thighs like that for a long time."
She smiled slightly but remained silent.
"I wonder why you didn't catch yourself a rich husband instead of selling yourself to the restaurant. Could have done very well that way, I expect."
She sat mutely, but her expression changed.
"Oh, I see," he said. "Your family's problems were too urgent for that. Well, quite a shame really. You'd have made quite a nice society wife. Your loss and my gain I suppose."
"Perhaps."
"Look at that belly!" he exclaimed as if noticing it for the first time. "You must have exercised to keep your belly as slim as that," he remarked while planting a gentle kiss just above her navel.
"Some."
"I thought so." He took her hand in his and began to kiss it almost romantically. "You've also got incredibly delicate hands. I'd start eating these right now, but I think you'll need them later."
"Why?"
"Surprise."
"Oh."
He ran his fingers absentmindedly across her shaved genital region, and she spread her legs obediently. "I wouldn't mind fucking a woman like you before dinner," he remarked.
"It's against the rules," she replied in a neutral voice.
"Yes, I know, but I break a lot of rules."
"Oh."
"The real reason I don't do it, though, is my associates here. Between you and me, I have a lot of control over them, since they wouldn't be able to afford eating women without me. Still, they would probably draw the line when I started spraying my semen all over their dinner, don't you think?"
"I suppose."
"But anyway, would you like it if I did?"
"I don't know."
"That's a start anyway," he said with a satisfied smile.
"What?"
"A few minutes ago you would have said 'It doesn't matter what I would like.'"
"Yes." She knew he was right but didn't understand what he was talking about.
"It shows you're on your way back to being a person."
She narrowed her eyes and tried to go back to her meat-ready state of mind but found it difficult. He was confusing her. The elegant simplicity of her life of a few minutes ago was being crushed into a tangle of mixed emotions and conflicting thoughts.
"Would you think it was dirty and disrespectful or would you see it as a going away present?"
"What?"
"Sex."
"Not too dirty."
"Good. Would it matter what I looked like? Would you feel differently if I was fat and ugly?"
"Maybe," she replied softly, embarrassed.
"Excellent!" he laughed out loud and fondled her breasts. "You're almost there!"
She blushed and remained silent.
"Still, you're very sexy. Do you think I should masturbate under the table as I eat you?"
"You don't have to," she said in a hushed mortified voice.
"You're right," he said, deliberately misunderstanding her meaning. "Just the sight of you will be enough to get me off."
She blushed furiously but remained silent.
"These are great breasts, my lovely. The shape is excellent, good sized, and they're not fatty at all!"
"Thanks," she replied, not knowing what else to say.
He kissed each nipple gently and then looked up to see the expression on her face. She was trying to conceal her emotions, but it was clearly a struggle. Suddenly, he lunged forward and with expert teeth removed her left nipple with one clean bite.
She yelped in pain and surprise, and tears streamed from her eyes as she began to cry, but she regained her composure quickly and managed to remain sitting in silent pain, her tears the only thing betraying her torment.
He sat back in his chair and chewed contemplatively at the morsel. "Excellent, excellent, my love, but next time don't conceal your pain. I want to hear you squeal."
"Why did you do that?"
"Excellent, you feel betrayed," he said almost to himself. He picked up a knife with his right hand and cradled the rest of her left breast in his left hand. "It looked tasty, and it was. But mostly because I thought you might be ready."
"But you didn't want me to be meat," she said confusedly.
"Yes, and you're not meat anymore, love. You're ripe for the eating, I think." With that, he deftly removed her left breast from her chest with a single smooth upward stroke. This time the pain was somewhat less than the initial bite, but her uninhibited cries echoed throughout the large room.
Jimmy smiled and took a quick bite from his prize before shouting "Bob! Look sharp!" and tossing the severed breast across the table to one of his hungry-looking colleagues. Bob devoured the mammary ravenously, but a few others managed to tear away pieces like hungry wolves.
Alison meanwhile involuntarily clutched at her violated chest but succeeded only in making the pain worse. The wound bled less than she would have expected, but many trickles of warm blood flowed down her belly and pooled in her crotch. She thought she might faint, but this escape eluded her.
The waitresses looked shocked at the scene and had begun to badly neglect their duties of filling wine glasses. It was apparent that some of them were beginning to have second thoughts about their life choices.
"Pain is such an essential part of your humanity," Jimmy told Alison philosophically. "Let's have the other." He expertly sliced off her remaining breast, and her cries exploded as he tossed the morsel to his colleague Stan.
"Now lay back, lovely," Jimmy told her, ignoring her cries.
She reclined with tears in her eyes, and Jimmy inspected her genitals spread out before him. He bent and licked the blood from her vagina and savoured its taste. She gasped as a different feeling momentarily cut through her pain.
"It's time for me to take back something I just gave you," he said to her.
"What?"
"Your womanhood," he replied softly. "We've taken care of your breasts, so when I get done down here, you won't be a woman anymore, but don't worry. You'll still be a person, and that's a lot better than being meat."
She didn't have time to reply before the most excruciating pain of her life tore through her tired body. He came up for air and the blood dripped from his face and beard. "Delicious!" he remarked before going in for more. When he was finally done, her crotch was an unrecognisable mangled bloody hole. He took a knife and with a few expert slices was able to extract her womb and the remains of her genitals. These were thrown to several more of Jimmy's associates, who tore into them greedily. Alison's sobs filled the room, as her world had become a mass of undifferentiated pain.
"How do you feel," Jimmy asked as he stuffed her pelvis with cotton to prevent her bleeding to death.
"Bad."
"Is it the pain or do you feel saddened by the loss of your womanhood? Does it bother you to know that if I let you go now you would survive but would never be able to have a family or to be loved as a true woman?"
"Everything; mostly the pain," she replied, no longer trying to conceal her feelings.
Jimmy smiled in self-satisfaction.
"You are a cruel man."
"Indeed," he replied thoughtfully.
"Who are you?"
"I'm a surgeon," Jimmy replied. "That's why I can cut you so well. An amateur would have caused you real pain."
"Surgeons are supposed to help people," she said a bit accusingly.
"Believe me, I do," he replied without taking offence. "I haven't lost a patient yet, but every time I operate on a beautiful young female I long to devour her, but that's generally frowned upon by the hospital."
"Why do you do this to me?"
"You came here asking to be eaten; you can't blame me for your destiny."
"Yes, but why can't you just eat me like everyone else. Why did you have to talk to me and all of that?"
"Because I'm a cruel person, I suppose," he replied without apology. "But now I have to do something I really regret."
"What?"
"Remove your legs," he replied as he began tying tight bands around her upper thighs close to the remains of her crotch. "I would really like to keep you around to chat for a while longer, but my friends grow impatient, so I need to throw them a bone. But I would have liked to enjoy some of those beautiful legs. Too bad."
He was done with the tourniquets and immediately chopped off first one and then the other leg with a large meat cleaver at the upper thighs close to the bands. Alison whimpered pathetically, but the added pain was minimal on top of the agony she was already experiencing. Strangely though, she found the loss of her legs more psychologically distressing than the loss of her breasts and genitals. It seemed that she identified more with her legs than with her more private parts.
The legs were passed down the table, and Alison could barely see what was happening as a group of men eagerly devoured one of the legs; it was difficult to tell which one. They tore bites of flesh from the whole limb as several other more patient men were carving steaks from the other thigh for grilling.
Tears ran down Alison's cheeks, and she longed for death. But now it was not the same as when she had been under the aluminium cover. Now she wanted to die to escape the pain. Before she had just wanted to get it over with before she remembered to mourn for the life she was going to miss.
He turned her around and spoke to her tortured face. "I want to keep you much longer, but I'll let you go in a few minutes. You probably hate me, and in a way I hope you do, because I am a truly cruel person. But I love you for being a person when all you wanted to be was meat, and I'm going to ask you to do one last favour for me; I hope you'll humour me."
"What is it?"
"I want you to give your heart to me."
He didn't explain but kissed her on the lips and then took a small knife and began slicing into her abdomen. He traced a bloody line around the curve of her rib cage and down the sides of her belly and connected the ends with a horizontal cut across the top of her pelvis. When he was done her peeled off the flesh of her belly and exposed her internal organs. He took the belly meat and sliced off a generous portion for himself including the navel and tossed the rest to his wolf-like friends.
Then he told Alison what she would have to do. "Please, doctor, No!" she replied in horror when she heard what he had in mind.
"You're my property, and you do as I instruct, my dear," he said in a stern but oddly gentle tone.
She began reluctantly. The coils of her intestines felt slimy and sickening to her fingers, and she felt queasy as she lifted the ugly grey tubes out of her belly and left them in a pile next to the right side of her body. She plunged both hands into the vacant cavity of her abdomen and steeled herself to make one final effort before Jimmy stopped her.
"Alison, are you ready to die?"
"I want the pain to stop."
"It will. Thank you for being a great meal, Alison; I'm sorry for the inconvenience I've caused you. You can go ahead now, my dear."
Alison paused just a moment to prepare herself for death before shoving her hands up into her own chest between all the obstacles of her anatomy. She found her heart easily and wrapped her hand around the rapidly throbbing organ. As he had told her to do, she jerked it out as hard as she could and successfully tore it from its vascular moorings and was able to see the bloody thing coming out in her hand and falling into the plate Jimmy had left beside her left hip.
Alison saw Jimmy smile with delight as her world seemed suddenly still, her heart no longer beating in her chest. Then everything began to flitter about briefly before everything went dark, and the pain stopped once and for all. Finally, she was nothing but meat on a platter.