Story: SB123 Orientation


Posted by Sawney Beane on July 31, 2007 at 14:31:33:

The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #123

ORIENTATION

by Sawney Beane

16 April 2005

2,594 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 snuff for purposes of gynophagia. If you find such things offensive, please steer clear; you have been warned.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Something that came to me over the last few weeks. Wrote it fairly quickly.
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Amy did not like the way the ten bikini-clad women looked at her. They were all stunningly gorgeous, and most of them carried themselves with an acute awareness of their own allure. What really stung was the pitying looks each of them gave Amy as they entered the room and gathered around the table. It didn't help that Amy was helplessly chained down spread-eagled on her back on that very steel table.

With her wrists strapped down to the corners of the table near her head, and her ankles locked into a device attached to the foot of the table, Amy was left exposed, immobile, and vulnerable. These giggling giddy beauties stared at her predicament and had the nerve to feel sorry for her. Who were they to feel sympathy for her? Amy was furious, but there was nothing she could do.

The awkward moment was fortunately cut short by the entrance of a man in a long white apron. He lost no time in taking control of the situation. "Greetings ladies!" he announced. "I am the head butcher of the Ambassador's estate, and my name is Avery Cambridge. Welcome to our household."

The chattering women silenced themselves and looked at the man with a great deal of curiosity and anticipation as he continued his speech. "First things first. All of you are in one of two states. Those of you who are foreign guests, have been donated by your respective nations as a gift of friendship and have been selected for your role by whatever means is legal and customary in your country. The rest of you have volunteered for this role, for whatever reasons make sense to you. You may be here because your families needed the money, because you have a burning patriotic desire to serve king and country, or because you have some sort of odd sexual fascination with this sort of thing." At this point, Amy felt uncomfortably that the butcher gave her a pointed glance. If she could have moved, she would have rolled herself into a foetal position.

Butcher Avery continued. "Frankly, I don't know or care why you are here, but for each and every one of you, the situation is the same. You have given up all human rights you may or may not formerly have had, and your current status is meat. You will obey any command given to you, and you will meet your fate with dignity. I don't want any trouble, and if you all cooperate, we'll get through this with no problem. So right now, I need to know if any of you intend to make any challenge to your status. If any of you think you have reached this place mistakenly, please speak now. If not, we will begin."

There was a wave of mumbling through the women, but none spoke up with an objection. Amy considered requesting a release, but in the end she refused to give in to panic.

"Good, good," smiled butcher Avery. "We're going to get on just fine. First of all," he said glancing around the crowd, "you're all overdressed." He paused to smile and place a reassuring hand on Amy's naked thigh. "Well, except for this one. The rest of you, please take off everything and pile it in the box in the corner."

A chill ran through Amy's body as she watched the chattering women move one step closer to her state. They still seemed to pity her, but standing around the room nude made some of them realize that the gap was narrowing.

"Excellent, excellent," said the butcher, taking a moment to circulate amongst the women, pinching a meaty buttock or caressing a tender abdomen here and there. "Let me say, each and every one of you is a superb specimen, and your culinary futures are all assured of the greatest success. We have an amazing team of chefs who will make each of you into a delicacy beyond compare. Thank you again for your contribution."

Amy looked around at the eyes of the women who were becoming visibly uncomfortable as this speech went on. Amy seemed to find their growing nervousness reassuring, her own helpless position notwithstanding.

"Ladies, here's what we're going to do," announced the butcher. "The Ambassador has a couple of very important events coming up, so your role will be very important." He glanced with a slight smile at Amy. "There will be a feast tonight for some of the Ambassador's closest friends and acquaintances, and we will need one of you to serve at this banquet. The rest of you, we will need for tomorrow, which is going to be a truly gala event with important representatives from around the world."

A collective gasp passed through the women. The future had suddenly been delineated for them, and their expectations of remaining in the larder for days or weeks had rapidly dissolved. They knew their fates, but it had all become immensely more real to them when they realized that in 36 hours they would all be served at a diplomatic bash. Amy smiled as they realized that their own lives would be, at most, a day longer than her own. And then the other shoe dropped.

"Today's feast is a rather simple affair," announced the butcher. "But tomorrow, we have a lot of work to do, and some of your recipes are quite complex. We've decided just to slaughter all of you today so we will have time to prepare for the banquet. I'll give you a few minutes to gather your thoughts, and we'll get started right away."

Amy watched the blood drain from the pretty faces around her. The pity drained away with it. They were all suddenly aware that, despite not being chained to a table, they had no advantage over Amy. Now Amy was tempted to pity them, but something inside her restrained her sympathy.

The butcher had left the room and returned several minutes later with a cart full of equipment. First he circulated in the doomed feminine crowd with ten pairs of handcuffs, chaining each meat girl's wrists in front of her. When all were suitably chained, he smiled and announced, "OK, who wants to go first?"

A peculiar separation went on in the fluid sea of female flesh. Two girls stepped timidly forward, while about half of the women subtly drifted towards the far wall, and the remaining three hovered uncertainly in between. Butcher Avery smiled and clasped his hand on the shoulder of the tall slender brunette closest to him. "OK, baybee, you're it!" The brunette, expressing the least unwillingness of the group, trembled visibly, but remained silent.

The powerful butcher led her to a place under a heretofore unnoticed hook in the ceiling and clamped a rigid wooden brace around the middle of her calves to keep her lower legs immobile. Then, grasping her by the forearms, he lifted her and looped the chain of her handcuffs over the hook, leaving her long legs dangling nearly a foot off the ground.

"You'll be great meat, dear," he announced to his wide-eyed victim, slapping her rump affectionately and running a hand down her silky succulent thigh. Then, without warning or further ado, he lopped off both her feet with one smooth motion of a machete. Moving quickly to minimize the blood loss, he hooked a specially designed funnel and bucket to the wooden brace around her legs and placed the severed feet neatly on a mat beneath her. The brunette did not scream, but wiggled slightly as her life slowly flowed from her body into the bucket.

The other girls looked increasingly nervous. The second-least unwilling, a busty blonde, subtly slid back into the ranks of the uncommitted threesome, and the five others pressed their bodies together in a huddle.

Butcher Avery, moving quickly, summoned the busty blonde and dispatched her forthwith, leaving her hanging from a hook several feet to the bleeding brunette's left. The uncertain three, a curvaceous Hispanic lovely, a slender redhead, and a sexy contribution from the Italian embassy, despite moving closer to the huddle, soon found themselves strung up in a row next to the first two.

Amy watched the carnage with a mixture of emotions. No one was paying any attention to her now, and butcher Avery was advancing on the increasingly tightening ball of female flesh. He placed a gentle hand on the back of the unfortunate girl left on the outside of the onion-like mass, and the raven-haired goth girl surrendered peacefully, leaving her nervous body hanging bleeding in the sixth position.

The butcher peeled back the layers one by one and added to his row of bleeding beauties a Nordic blonde goddess and two more brunettes. Finally, he turned his attention to the last victim, a golden-skinned Asian, short but curvy. She was left by herself and futilely trying to conceal herself in a foetal ball of her own flesh.

Butcher Avery placed a gentle bloody hand on her soft shoulder, and she stood up reluctantly, her small body trembling visibly. Avery left bloody fingerprints on her golden body, and he gently lifted her into position and caressed her body reassuringly as he put her into position and removed her feet. She met her fate without resistance, but her eyes were wide as the life began to flow out of her.

Then the butcher turned around and smiled wickedly at Amy. "Shall we discuss tonight's feast now, my dear?" Amy stared back at him as he stood before the fruit of his fatal labours and wiped his bloody hands on his bloody apron. The row of ten dead and dying beauties hung ominously behind him like a curtain of destruction. On the left end, the slender brunette and the busty blonde hung pale and motionless, while those near the middle twitched with varying degrees of consciousness and enthusiasm. The Asian and brunettes near the end appeared still to be conscious as they bled their last.

Amy felt the emotions welling up inside of her as she stared at the man who had done all of this for the sake of the Ambassador's hospitality. She could restrain herself no further and found herself screaming at him, "For Christ's sake, Avery, shut up and let me go!"

The butcher smiled broadly at her pitiful outburst, and moved slowly towards her. "Ah, my dear, Amy, is it too much for you?"

"Avery, enough!"

Avery smiled again and unhooked the clamps around her wrists and then turned away. As Amy sat up and rubbed her painful wrists and stretched her cramped torso, he filled two champagne glasses at the ankles of the draining Asian. "Amy, darling, relax and have a drink. Cheers!" he said, offering her one of the bloody cocktails. Amy glowered and sullenly sipped the half and half mixture of blood and white wine, a kir arteriale-her favourite drink.

The refreshing beverage seemed to give new life to her fatigued body. And when it was done, Avery made a second round for them to share and enjoy as the shocked Asian beauty bled on in semi-conscious silence. "OK, Avery, you can unhook my ankles, too now."

"Sorry, babe, I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Well, I haven't decided whether or not to lop off your feet too," he said with a charming smile.

"Bastard!"

"Indeed, but to the point, who do you fancy for dinner tonight?"

Amy perused the selection and smiled broadly. "I like the Asian," she finally concluded. "That skin looks just perfect for a roast."

"Yes, she is gorgeous," agreed Avery. Amy wondered if she could still hear them.

"Where's she from?"

"I think she was donated by the Thai embassy."

"Let me see her foot," Amy said impulsively.

Avery obeyed and returned with the right foot of the dying Asian. Amy held it gently like a small fragile pet. She caressed its gentle curve and small plump toes. Even the tough sole felt pleasant to her touch.

"I want this for my dinner," said Amy.

"Who says you'll be invited?" asked Avery with a sly smile.

"Oh, Daddy wouldn't leave me out!"

"Sure, but you may be on the table rather than beside it, dear."

"Bastard!" she retorted. "Hush and let my ankles go!"

Avery ignored her order. "This Asian is certainly delectable, but a bit small for tonight. It's not a big feast, but we do have fifty guests coming."

"True, we might need another for tonight."

"Yes," Avery sneered. "You're just about the right size," he said caressing her long shapely body with his bloody hands.

"Hush, we'll have that brunette on the left, the first one you did."

"Sure? You'd maybe go over better."

"Avery, quit it," Amy snapped. "Yes, we'll have the brunette; we can't have the Asian anyway because Ambassador Michaels is coming tomorrow, and he loves eating oriental pussy."

"True."

"But make sure I get to eat that Thai girl's foot tomorrow night."

"OK, I'll make sure if it...if you're still around that is."

Amy glared at him as he replaced the severed foot in its place near the pale but still golden-brown Thai donation. "Are you going to let me go now?"

"No," Avery said, as he gently forced her to recline and snapped both her wrists back into the restraints. Amy did not resist, knowing both that he was stronger than she was and that this turned her on immensely.

"Bastard," she said unemphatically.

"And now, I need to get you ready for the oven."

"What are you on about, Avery?"

"The Ambassador asked me to prepare you for this evening's meal."

"Nonsense, Daddy would never have me roasted."

"Well, seems your succulent arse was just too much for him to resist, darling," Avery said, as he slipped out of his clothes and climbed up onto the table with her.

"Liar."

"Well, that and the fact that he found out you were teasing his meat girls, which he doesn't appreciate too much."

"Right! Avery, if he found out you were fucking me, it would be your dick on the platter before long. Ooooo!" This last sentence was punctuated by the butcher's thrusting penetration of the restrained heiress's dripping pussy.

"True...ah...babe...ah...he did find out...ah...about us..." Avery said, breathlessly multitasking.

"Ooo...yeah?....Ooo!"

"Yeah...ah...I'm ordered to immolate...ah...myself on the spit I'm...ah...roasting you on!"

"How...Ooo...romantic..."

"We'll be quite...ah...the feast..."

"Oooo!"

Amy relaxed in his carnal embrace, feeling her brutal lover deep in her trembling body. Amid the ecstasy, she was aware of the silent row of ten motionlessly hanging meat girls visible behind him and bearing witness to his atrocities, which so attracted her to him.

She was not overly concerned by his promises to slaughter her. It would surely be the same as all of the other times they had played this game. Once the post-coital glow had faded, he would unclamp her, and they would shower quickly together. If she was lucky, he would let her help him butcher the slender brunette for the banquet that evening. There was no real danger of him hurting her.

Still, a man who was capable of ruthlessly slaughtering ten beautiful women in the space of half an hour was surely capable of getting her in an oven, with or without her diplomat father's permission. If Avery did decide to harm her, she would be helpless against his brutal power especially while she was clamped vulnerably to the table in these restraints. It was that tiny shred of doubt that made this game so sexy and exciting.