The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #5
THE INVITATION
by Sawney Beane
21 June 1992
3,041 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 male and female snuff and cannibalism. If you find such things offensive, please steer clear; you have been warned.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I don't know what to say about this one. It's a nice piece about a ruthless queen and her eccentricities. Like its immediate predecessor, this story contains non-consensual activities, but I am not as revolted by this one, probably because it not very realistic and a lot more cartoonish.
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I was in my tiny garden pulling weeds when my wife read the letter. I was twenty-four at the time, and she had just turned twenty-one. We were both completely satisfied with our two-year-old marriage. This made the news all the more painful.
I had just finished the carrots and was about to tend to the potatoes when I heard a distraught scream from the kitchen of our small home. I ran in to see what was the matter. She was slumped in a corner behind the kitchen table with an official-looking letter carelessly abandoned on the floor a short distance from her outstretched hand. She was sobbing pathetically, and tears flooded her face.
I asked Laura tenderly what was distressing her so and asked her if she was hurt. She shook her beautiful head and pointed to the letter. She averted her eyes. It was as if she was afraid to look at me. I picked up the letter with great foreboding. It was addressed to me from the Household Department of the Royal Palace. I gasped for air as I read:
Dear Mr. Arthur Holck:
I am pleased to invite you, on behalf of Her Royal Majesty Queen Katherine III, to a special banquet in your honour. Her Majesty wishes to show her deepest appreciation and thanks you for the great services you have rendered to the Royal court and to you country. The meal will take place on the first day of July. An escort and a division of the Royal Guard will pick you up at you home on the morning of July 1. Please be ready to depart at 7:00 am. Once again, the Queen offers her sincerest appreciation and eagerly awaits your arrival.
Sincerely,
Robert H. Tuttle, esq.
Director of Services
The letter struck me harder than it did my poor wife. I collapsed at her knees and let my reeling head fall upon her warm lap. She stroked my hair absentmindedly as she continued to weep. I did not cry. In fact, I didn't do anything at all. My mind shut itself down and refused to come out for several hours. Our lives had been shattered forever in the course of an otherwise normal afternoon.
It was one of those things that everyone thinks could never happen to them. Most people are right in thinking this way. I was not, unfortunately.
Queen Katherine III was by far the cruelest sovereign this side of Attila the Hun. When I received her letter, she had been on the throne for thirteen years and had just finished celebrating her twenty-ninth birthday. For a dozen years she had been sending out armies with orders to brutally abuse all of the lands they conquered. Houses were burnt, people we slaughtered and tortured as a recreational activity for the soldiers, and everything of any value for miles around was plundered. Because her armies were very successful in battle, this manner of destruction took place over a wide area.
Katherine was no saint in her domestic affairs either. During her reign, the populace of her country had been virtually enslaved. All income earned by the people through their hard labour was to be handed over to the Queen who supplied each citizen with an appropriate allowance. To make matters worse, these allowances were subject to the whims of the Queen and her corrupt officials. Poverty was widespread. Artisans like myself were better off than most, but every time I hammered the last tack into a pair of shoes, I cursed the Queen for not allowing me to keep the fruits of my labour.
The one unusual characteristic which led the world community to view Katherine III with more than a little bit of revulsion was her habit of inviting a handsome man to her palace for dinner on the first day of every month. The letter was an absurd euphemism. The services I had allegedly rendered were not of the past but of my brief future.
I was, to shed all false humility, a dashingly handsome man. I took great pains to remain as such. After all, there were many advantages to looking good. For one thing, it helped me to attract the attention of beautiful women like my beloved Laura. However, there was a fine line between benign good looks and the degree of handsomeness that would attract the attention of a malevolent Queen. Apparently, I had overstepped that line and become a sought-after commodity. The Queen decided that I was good-looking enough for her to own. It was a compliment of sorts-she only took the very best. However, the unpleasant results far outweighed the ego boost given me by her letter.
I awoke from a nap sometime after sunset. Laura was still with me. She had not slept as I had and had regained some of her composure. The sobbing had ceased, but a few tears remained. Her sad eyes told a detailed story. She continued to stroke my well-groomed blonde hair with loving affection. My fate was determined; I had no escape. I could have made a run for the border in the eight days I had left in my home. But I would certainly have been caught, and severe punishment would have been unleashed upon my family.
Laura peered at my stirring form with dark brown eyes. Loose strands of her long silky black hair adhered randomly to her wet face. She was sexy even in her state of hopeless depression. We sat motionless behind the table for many more hours discussing the unwelcome news in sombre tones. I did my best to console Laura, but I had trouble reassuring even myself. We went to bed late at night with Laura's intended lunch still untouched since the letter had arrived.
Our bedroom was not the ecstatic sex chamber it had often been in the past. We undressed slowly and methodically. I flipped off the lights, and we rolled into bed next to each other. I spent a few minutes kissing her soft lips but couldn't really enjoy it. I pulled her close and wrapped my arms and legs around her naked body. I held her tight as if letting go would be death for me. My hands felt her shoulder blades beneath her smooth skin. I relished the touch of her perfectly formed breasts on my sighing chest. Her limbs entangled me in a web from which I did not intend to escape. Her small plume of pubic hair rested pleasingly against my thigh, while her small feet moved up and down my calves. We did not go further in our lovemaking that night. It was enough for then. I fell asleep in her embrace praying that I would never move from that spot.
Before I have completed this tale, you will probably believe me to be a braggart. However, I am the humblest of men. I seldom discuss my sexual exploits, but several were pivotal to my life. Laura and I had a passionate and always-exciting sex life. I will never forget the evening of June 30.
I'm not sure where she got the ropes. It doesn't matter much. After an hour of foreplay, she produced the cords and tied my wrists to the corners of our bed and secured my ankles together. We'd experimented with lightweight bondage, but she had never tied me up so tightly as she did that evening. The nylon ropes cut painfully into my flesh, but she seemed not to notice. I allowed her to continue her whim.
She climbed onto my excited body and pushed my penis into her warm receptacle. Her passion was unprecedented, and her moans echoed in my ears. I closed my eyes in pleasure and didn't open them until she was finished.
She looked different. Her expression was tired and sad. I believed that she was grieving because it was our last night together. I was only partly correct.
Laura reached up to a rack above the head of the bed and pulled down the two-foot sword I had inherited from my father. She sombrely buried the hilt in my crotch. She did not respond to my worrisome questions about her purpose. The cold steel rested against my erect penis. I began to fear the worst.
Laura kissed me casually and stood over the vertical blade. She bent her knees and began to lower herself carefully onto the sword. I yelled at her to stop, but she did not listen. The tip touched her genitals and slid in gruesomely. She paused with the blade an inch into her. The sharp edge had scratched her painfully, and a drop of blood ran down the blade.
I pleaded with her to stop. Her wounds were far from horrible; she could still be saved. She was motionless for quite some time, unable to continue but unable to remove the blade from her vagina and lose her chance to fulfil her big plan. The pain caused her to wish to continue and end it all, but she feared the inevitable increase in pain along the way.
She whispered to me, "You'll never see me after tonight, and I can't bear to see anyone else if I can't see you." I was touched and horrified. I felt the warm drop of fluid as it reached the lower end of the sword. My begging was ineffective.
She let herself down. The full length of the blade disappeared into my wife's body, and she fell forward onto my chest. I felt the irregular movements of her body as she took her last few breaths. I was unable to move. Blood stained my body and my conscience. I couldn't quite believe that she was dead.
The next morning, my escort arrived and laughed their heads off. I was furious when they rudely pushed my dead wife's corpse aside and untied me. I launched my fist at the closest soldier. It was intercepted by a suddenly serious captain. "Be careful," he said. That was all. Then the party hastily dressed me and carted me off to the palace.
After several hours of bathing and assorted bodily maintenance assisted by a flock of beautiful girls, I was led into the main dining room for lunch.
There I met the Queen for the first time. Katherine III looked every bit as ruthless as her reputation indicated. However, she was also strangely beautiful. Her long blonde hair, well-shaped body, and revealing clothing all radiated careful attention. I was in awe for several minutes.
She spoke to me as an equal and invited me to sit beside her on her throne. She believed in maintaining illusions for as long as possible.
The Queen gave the cue and ten beautiful women were led into the room before us. I knew a bit about this unusual ceremony and attempted to avoid showing interest in any of the servants offered me. However, they began to undress and my attention was drawn to a young Asian woman with waist-length black hair and delicate breasts and thighs. I quickly averted my eyes, but the Queen had already noticed and summoned the girl to my side.
I couldn't determine the mood conveyed by the girl's dark eyes. I had expected distress, but she was calm. The Queen smiled an evil smile and introduced me to Wu Yi, a valuable prize from the Queen's latest military campaign. The beautiful Asian took my hand and led me to a padded platform twenty feet in front of the throne. Katharine III looked on complacently as Wu Yi slowly removed my clothing.
When I was naked, the girl settled back onto the mattress and invited me to follow her lead. I found myself on top of her and feeling miserable. I felt that I was betraying my dead wife as well as ruining the poor Asian servant. A soft hand guided me into her. The warm sensation filled me with guilt.
I pressed my lips to hers and mumbled, "I'm sorry." She smiled feebly and responded, "It's not your fault. The Queen would have slaughtered me in a week anyway. Servants don't live here for very long. Don't blame yourself." I knew she was honest about not feeling any ill will towards me, but I could tell she was also distressed by her fate.
I made love to Wu Yi as well as I could, but my heart was not in it. She seemed satisfied. I don't think she expected very much. I rolled off of her, and she kissed me and said "goodbye" before picking up a knife and walking to the Queen's feet. The servant knelt before her master and offered up the dagger. I could see the tears streaming from her pretty face as Katherine III rose and accepted the weapon.
Wu Yi trembled violently as the Queen pressed their bodies together. The sovereign took the knife in her right hand and pulled roughly on the girl's thick hair. The soft brown neck was exposed to the world, and the victim's upside down eyes reached out to me in their final moment of terror. I watched in horror as the smiling Queen dragged the knife across Wu Yi's throat. She dropped the blade and pressed her lips against the trembling red mass of flesh. The eyes faded and the dark skin grew pale. The Queen continued her drink long after the donor was gone.
I stared in horror at the ruby red lips of the evil being who had directly or indirectly destroyed two women on my behalf. I looked sadly at the lifeless beauty sprawled on the floor. Workers arrived shortly to cart her off. The remaining nine female servants returned to prepare me for lunch. The warm bath felt good, but I was wishing I could just be done with everything and die right away.
I sat down and was served an enormous meal. It was horrifying. One dish contained a pair of dark brown eyes. Another supported a whole human brain. A third carried a human heart. Other dishes contained two small breasts, a full set of female genitalia, two human hands, a pair of lips, a round steak which had once been a part of a small human thigh, a human tongue, and a pair of human buttocks. I stared unhappily at the remains of Wu Yi.
I was forced to eat every last bit of the meat served to me. I did not enjoy the meal despite the fact that every bite was tender and cooked to perfection-what a horrible thought. The overwhelming guilt and revulsion ruined it for me. I was informed that the rest of the girl's flesh was to be consumed by the other servants. Apparently, the servants were fed little other than their fellow servants. I finished my meal with relief and a persistent illness.
After lunch, I was led to the Queen's bedchamber where I was to continue my performance. The Queen's skilful hands ruthlessly ripped my clothing to shreds. I stood naked before her for the second time that day. She dropped her robe and I saw her royal body for the first time. It was not a disappointment.
The Queen turned out to be a very skilful lover. I had dreaded the moment, but I ended up nothing but confused. The Queen encouraged me to take the lead and passively enjoyed my touch. She was tender and gentle and meekly curled her soft body around my own. I caught myself thinking fond thoughts about her before I could control myself. When I finally entered the royal womb, her eyes rolled back into her head. She made a lot of noise and apparently enjoyed herself immensely.
The Queen had had sex with over six hundred men but had never had intercourse with the same person twice. I did not enjoy thinking about that part.
An hour later, I was waiting nervously in the dining room. I was strapped to a special chair, which was comfortable but allowed only minimal movement. My legs were spread, and I shivered in the cool breeze on my bare skin.
The dreaded Queen arrived sooner that I would have liked. She was still naked but did not look anywhere near as gentle as she had in her bed. She was ready for dinner, and she didn't need to look at a menu.
I closed my eyes as my penis disappeared into her evil grin. She sucked as hard as she could. It was quite pleasant for a long time. She finally tired of the blowjob, and I screamed shamelessly as her teeth detached an inch of my body. The pain was excruciating. Tears streamed from my eyes, and I barely heard the Queen's noisy chewing. She returned shortly for another bite. The pain increased.
In a matter of minutes, my genitals were entirely missing. My consciousness was tormented and waning. The Queen slid her soft body along my flesh and in two big bites had ripped off both of my nipples. The pain was already at its maximum and failed to increase.
I caught the evil grin out of the corner of my watery eye. The Queen attacked my shoulder with ravenous enthusiasm. I felt her teeth scrape my bones and surrendered myself to the torment. Most of my left shoulder and a part of my right were gone before the meal was over.
I lay gasping for air and clinging to life as the Queen thanked me and left the room. My mind was clouded and I barely noticed the male servants who entered with saws and meat paper. Something attracted my attention as a man sawed off first one then the other of my feet. He proceeded to my knees. Others attacked my hands and arms, while still others wrapped the severed body parts for the Queen's future meals.
Everything was suddenly clear. I could see again. I could hear again. There was no more pain. I looked down from above at my tattered body and watched the workers dismantle it completely before I wandered off in search of Laura. I needed to find Wu Yi as well. I wanted to thank her for her kindness.