Story: SB053 Sharing


Posted by Sawney Beane on August 15, 2006 at 23:03:08:

The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #53

SHARING

by Sawney Beane

28 July, 10-11 November 1997

2,690 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 and gynophagia. If you find such things offensive, please steer clear; you have been warned.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is an unusual story based on an unusual idea that came to me unexpectedly. I think it's cute and interesting enough. Additionally, the narrator does give us more insight into the world in which Tasty Kate's exists, even though his story takes place before Tasty Kate's was founded and before cannibalism was legalized. That information is somewhat of a digression and makes this story flow a bit oddly from a literary perspective, but it makes this an invaluable document from an historical perspective.
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It was the first and only time I'd ever seen someone in the Cannibal Club wearing both a red and a blue button. I was immediately intrigued, and my prompt investigation of this enigmatic young blonde proved to be one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.

All of this happened way back in '75, almost five years before the opening of Tasty Kate's in Philadelphia, which signalled the beginning of a new era in American cannibalism. The advent of Tasty Kate's was, of course, a direct result of the national legalisation of consensual cannibalism in the USA, which was mandated by the US Supreme Court in its decision in the case of Gains v. the State of California.

If I remember correctly, that decision was in '78 and concerned a certain Ned Gains who had been awarded a death sentence for snuffing and eating his beach bunny girlfriend, 19-year-old Tiffany Turner. The Supreme Court overturned the death sentence on the basis of reams of evidence proving that Miss Turner had, in fact, earnestly desired her own death and had even more earnestly desired her bodily consumption by her beloved boyfriend. In the controversial decision, Chief Justice Brannigan labelled consensual cannibalism a natural extension of assisted suicide on demand, which had been legal for many years. He wrote:

It has long been an essential right of citizens of the United States to surrender their lives at will, as well as to donate their belongings to any other person whom he or she may wish to enrich. A person's body being his or her most intimate possession, it surely follows that a person has the right to give his or her body to another for any purpose, specified or unspecified, including its conversion into food. Therefore, this court declares that no person in these United States of America shall be penalized in any way for aiding in the death and/or cannibalistic consumption of another, provided that he or she can provide sufficient evidence that both the death and the consumption was desired by the victim and furthermore that such desire was in no way coerced and that the victim was mentally and emotionally competent to make such decisions.

Forgive my digression, but as a cannibal and a lawyer, such matters are very important to me. In any case, I met Jill back, as I mentioned, in NCY 175 when cannibalism was still very illegal. Back then the very existence of cannibals was just beginning to be recognized by society. Most people would have been surprised to discover how many of their friends and relatives harboured cannibalistic desires and fantasies and would have been even more surprised to know how many people were interested in experiencing the other end of the fork.

At the time, I was a young man just starting my career in the prosecutor's office in New York City. My occasional presence in the Cannibal Club would have disturbed my bosses, but it was legal within certain limits.

You see, the Cannibal Club was an establishment that served as a meeting place for cannibals and their meals. But to remain within the law, the club had to post signs stating that they in no way endorsed the practices of cannibalism or anything else remotely illegal. Their stated purpose was to provide a place for like-minded individuals to share their similar fantasies. Many, perhaps most, of the people in the Cannibal Club had no desire to actually see their fantasy come true, but there were also many of us who really used the place to meet up with people to eat or be eaten by.

There was always a danger of undercover cops lurking around the place, but they were usually fairly easy to spot. If you did get caught by them, it was usually easy enough to claim entrapment and get off. It helped that there were several people like myself in the prosecutor's office who wouldn't fight too hard to win such cases.

So we enjoyed ourselves and occasionally found someone who really wanted us to eat them, and then we feasted. The convention was simple enough: cannibals wore the red buttons provided by the management, and meals wore the blue buttons. That's what I found so intriguing about Jill when she walked in with one of each colour on either side of her green strapless evening gown.

I made my way over to her and tried my luck, "Hey, gorgeous, you looking for a mouth that really eats or one that just talks."

"I'm for real," she replied cautiously, "but I need more than a mouth to make me happy."

"What else is there?"

"Meat," she said simply, her caution fading into sultriness.

"You want it both ways?" I asked. "That shouldn't be hard; we'll find you a man to munch on, and then we can have our own feast."

"You work fast," she replied, "I've only just met you, and I can't make such a commitment with someone I don't know. Still, you have potential."

"Then we're in business," I said confidently as I ordered her another drink.

"Maybe," she purred coyly, "but it isn't a man I want to munch on."

"A woman?"

"Yeah," she confessed between sips of her martini.

"This is the right place for that," I said, "I've taken three home with me from here in the last year."

"Yeah," she said a bit glumly, "but they might prefer to go home with you instead of me."

"There are a few lesbian meals around here," I said encouragingly.

"I suppose, but it's more than that. I just know I wouldn't have the courage to snuff a woman. I just couldn't bring myself to do it, but I have to or I'll never be able to let myself be eaten."

"We certainly can't allow that," I said. "I'd be happy to assist you in any way possible."

We sat together for several hours and went through several rounds of drinks. Suddenly, she brightened up and exclaimed, "I've got it! We could share me!"

That sounded promising, but I didn't know what she had in mind. "How do you mean?"

"Look, I'm the perfect meal for both of us. I was just thinking that I wished I could find a girl like me to eat before I let you eat me, but we could just eat me together!"

"Sounds interesting."

"Do you think you could cut off my legs or something without killing me?"

"Sure," I replied, "being an experienced cannibal is almost as good as being a surgeon."

"Great," she said with infinite cheer, "let's go back to your place."

I took her home and we planned together for the next two days. It took that long to get ready for the big event, but I would have delayed the feast that long anyway just to make sure she didn't have any second thoughts. Cannibalism is not something you do on the spur of the moment.

We came up with a unique plan. I would amputate some non-essential part of her, and we would consume that part together. When we ran out of meat, I was to remove something else until it was impossible to keep her alive. At that point the rest of her body was mine to consume at my leisure. We were both terribly excited about it all, and this arousal showed itself in my bed over those days. She really was an incredible lover, but I was sure she'd be even better on the dinner plate.

The whole procedure was going to be painful as hell for her, so I stocked up on painkillers and anaesthetics. Neither of us was into pain, so we would try to eliminate as much of it as possible. At last, the third day came and everything was ready.

My original plan was to amputate one of her feet, but we soon realized that her petite foot would only supply us about a day of meat and then we'd have to go back and cut off something else. It was sure to be more convenient and more comfortable for her if we just took off the whole leg in one go. That's what we did.

I injected her with a local anaesthetic in the hip and gave her several sleeping pills so that she would not have to watch the procedure. It would be easier for both of us that way. I remember the way she nostalgically wiggled the toes on her left foot as she drifted off into a deep sleep.

I got right to work. After tying a tight tourniquet around her upper left thigh, I took out my sharpest scalpel and began cutting the flesh a few inches below it. I got a lot of blood on my basement floor in the process, but I was able to reach the bone fairly quickly, and my hacksaw severed that in a few minutes. Then my lovely Jill was in two pieces. I set the detached leg aside and cauterised her stump with the side of a knife I'd heated with a propane torch. Then I bandaged the remains of her leg up as securely as possible and left her to sleep off the drugs.

My experience and eagerness allowed me to make quick work of the leg. Within an hour I had butchered it into meal-sized cuts and had put all but two round steaks from the top of her thigh in my freezer. Those remaining two steaks were broiling in my oven when Jill gradually regained consciousness.

At first she was unaware of what had happened, but she soon noticed the pain, and the bandaged stump could not elude her notice for long. Her first reaction was regret, but I gave her some painkillers, which allowed her to think more rationally. The smell of her dinner cooking seemed to cheer her up quite a bit.

In no time at all, we were sitting together at the kitchen table with two steaks in front of us. She asked me to try mine first and tell her if she was good. She couldn't bear to have the first taste for some reason. I cut a small bite and placed it in my mouth. The flavour was unmatchable, and I'd cooked it to perfection. I told her she was wonderful.

She smiled at the compliment and cut herself a small tentative bite. She placed it carefully on her tongue and closed her eyes as she experienced that first bite. Her smile broadened and she moaned erotically. She was enjoying herself immensely. In minutes she assaulted the rest of her meal with an ecstatic ravenousness. She finished the steak long before I'd finished mine and pronounced it the best meal of her life. I admired Jill immensely that evening.

Over the next few weeks, we polished off the rest of her leg. Between her meat and my considerable culinary skills, we made some of the greatest meals of both our lives that week. I tried out all my favourite recipes, and she loved them all. We took our time because I wanted her to be in good enough shape to survive the next amputation. It was a good time for us.

When our meat ran out, we appropriated some more. Her other leg was removed and consumed much as the first one had been. A few weeks later we took off an arm, and later we took off the other one. She was still in great spirits, even though she depended upon me to help her do everything. I even had to feed her, because the only hand she had was on her dinner plate. I was amused at how unusual she looked without limbs, but I've always had something of a fetish for limbless women.

When she was out of arms, we had to resort to riskier meat. I took off both her medium-sized breasts with a sterilized knife one afternoon. She insisted on being conscious for that one. She said it was because she wasn't all that confident of waking up again. In any case, the operation went without a hitch, and we were able to feast for two days on the resulting meat.

At this point, however, she was considerably less comfortable. It was harder to kill her pain, and the bandages around her chest made her breathing somewhat uncomfortable. She was ready for the coup de grace, but I had to insist on keeping her around for three more days in order for her to fast and clear out her digestive system.

The night before her scheduled departure, I had a fantastic idea. It was selfless and benevolent, and I thought I owed it to my darling in return for all she had given me. I told her about it that morning, and she smiled weakly, showing real gratitude. I took out my razor to shave her genitals, but she asked me to just trim the public hairs short rather than shave them entirely. Therefore, I used my electric beard trimmer to leave her with quarter inch stubble. It was an odd request but one easily honoured.

Then I got out the scalpel and heated it in a candle flame before cutting into her crotch. She yelped despite her anaesthetics, but I was able to artfully outline her external genitalia and the patch of stubble marking her pubic mound. After some excavation, I had extracted most of her vagina, and a fair amount of flesh that had once been the centre of her womanhood. I didn't attempt to extract her uterus, as I was certain that I would have killed her. It was very hard on her as it was to just get the external parts of her sex. I stuffed her with cotton and bandaged her as well as I could before I dropped her womanhood into a skillet and began to fry it up.

She watched with weary interest, and I was fascinated to watch the stubble of her pubic hair as the flesh it was attached to was converted into cooked meat. Once I had gotten it cooked medium rare, I decided from looking at her that I didn't have time to cook it further, so I dropped it on a plate and placed it in front of her. Then I picked up a steak knife and fork and shared her last meal with her. We alternated bites, but I let her have most of the labia and clitoris. She was unable to comment much, but I could tell she was intensely grateful at this unexpected gift.

When the meal was done, I knew she didn't have long to live, so I cleared the table and lifted her onto it. Then I removed the bandages one by one in the order I had given them to her. There was surprisingly little bloodshed at the time because most of her wounds had at least partially healed, and my cauterisation had been effective. The breasts did bleed a little, and the crotch bled quite a lot.

When she was nude on my kitchen table, what little there was left of her, she gazed lovingly into my eyes and mouthed a silent "Thank you." I smiled back and inserted my scalpel into her heaving belly. I made a long thin incision from her waist to her breastbone and stuck my hands into her abdomen. I pulled her sides apart and had my fingers deep within her entrails as she drifted off into her final sleep. The pained smile remained on her lips forever, or at least until I got around to eating them.

I felt warm and happy inside as I butchered the remains of Jill's body. She would be good eating for a long time to come, but I knew I wouldn't enjoy the meals as much without her around to share them with me. Yes, Jill was an extraordinary woman and an extraordinary meal. We shared an intimacy that I have never experienced with any woman before or since. It is impossible to overestimate the value of sharing.