Posted by Sawney Beane on September 17, 2006 at 23:46:20:
The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #66
AFTER HOURS
by Sawney Beane
2 January 1999
1,362 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 with gynophagic intent. If you find such things offensive, please steer clear; you have been warned.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is another fairly simple story I knocked off. Familiar themes and character types here. Nothing really very new here but I think it is a pretty nice little piece.
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"Is this a shop where you can bring in things you've killed yourself for butchering?"
She didn't look like an experienced hunter, but Steve took notice of her all the same, even though he was working at a fever pitch amid the afternoon rush hour at the butcher shop he ran. "Um...yeah, sure," he replied. She was gorgeous enough that he wasn't prepared to turn her down despite the fact that he seldom consented to work on such orders. "But I'm a bit too busy right now. Could you come back later?"
"Yes, of course," she replied in a soft lilting voice that pierced the noise of the crowd of customers and grabbed Steve's attention. "I'll come back later today."
Then she turned and glided out of the store, a tall blonde goddess in a thin white sun dress. Steve watched her distractedly as she departed his store, but the impatient customers quickly brought him around.
Four hours later, Steve locked the doors of the store and went in the back room to begin the daily routine cleaning. The blonde had not returned, and Steve was very disappointed about that, but she had probably found herself a less busy butcher.
Steve was just about finished and had turned his mind to leaving for his small apartment for an evening of TV and beer when he heard a soft tapping on the glass of the front door. He went down to check it out and was elated to see his blonde goddess peering in. He quickly unlocked the door and let her in, locking it securely behind her.
"I hope I'm not too late," she said smoothly, "I had a few things to take care of before I came."
"No, not at all," replied Steve, eager to accommodate this vision's wildest whim. "What was it you needed my help with?" He was surprised to notice that she didn't appear to be carrying any packages of meat, unless she was concealing a dead squirrel in her handbag.
She seemed a bit hesitant, as if unable to think of how to explain her request. "I've got an...animal...that I need to have butchered."
"That's what we do best here," Steve replied, somewhat taken aback by the way she phrased her request. "What sort of animal?"
"Well, um...it's me."
"You?" Steve was certain his ears were deceiving him.
She smiled lamely and spread her arms apart as if presenting her body to him. "Surprised?"
"I'll say."
"Well, will you do it?"
"No, of course not. Are you crazy?"
"No," she replied. "I just need your help."
"Look, I can take apart beef and pork and even poultry, but I don't have any intention of cutting up chicks. I've never killed anyone in my life, and I'm not about to start tonight."
"Oh, I'm sorry," she purred. "You misunderstand me."
"I certainly hope so."
"You won't have to kill me; I just want you to butcher my body after I kill myself."
"You are crazy."
"No, I'm not."
The absurdity of her request made Steve a bit more forthright with his thoughts than he otherwise might have been. "Look, a lovely woman like you comes in my shop, I'm thinkin' maybe I'd like to sleep with her, not that I'd like to dismember her!"
She sighed resignedly. "OK, we can have sex if you'll promise to butcher me afterwards."
"Well, if you're so reluctant to sleep with me, I don't want to do it." That was only partly a lie.
"Oh, no, it's not that I don't want to do it with you. Actually, I quite fancy the idea, but it's just that Bob wouldn't approve and all," she replied cryptically. "Then again, I won't tell him if you won't," she added with a sly wink.
"Who the hell is Bob?"
"My boyfriend."
"What does Bob have to say about you trying to get yourself butchered?"
"Oh, he's wild about the idea. He always wanted to eat a woman, you know. He says that he'll miss me terribly, but not so much because once he's consumed my body, we'll be together forever."
"Bob's going to eat you?"
"Oh, yes, I want you to put all of my meat in a box when you're done butchering me and leave it under the Fifth Street Bridge at midnight. Bob will pick it up and start feasting. I expect I'll last him several weeks or more," she said looking down at her own body curiously.
"Bob's crazy too?"
"Crazy about me," she replied with another sly wink.
"I doubt he really loves you all that much if he's talking you into killing yourself!"
"No, actually it was my idea, and he was a bit reluctant at first, but we both have always fantasized about it."
"Why do you want to die so badly?"
"Oh, I don't really want to die. That's the inconvenient part of it all. But I really more than anything want to be meat. I want to be consumed by my lover. I want that enough that I'm willing to die for it if necessary."
"Absolutely crackers."
She became impatient with his criticism and demanded "Are you going to help me or not?"
"No, I really can't. In fact I think you're beyond help."
"Well, there's lots of butchers in this town, and I'll find one that will help if you won't."
Steve was certain she was correct in this assertion. He could just see that smelly old geezer Ralph from three blocks over ravaging this gorgeous martyr. Ralph wouldn't hesitate to destroy her. Also, the attraction of sex with her was still very powerful. He reasoned that anyone as cracked as she was didn't have much hope of a good life, and she really did seem to want what she was requesting.
He relented. "There's a cot in the back room," he replied softly, staring at the ground as if he couldn't bear to look at her.
She exploded with joy and hopped over and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you so much; I won't forget this for as long as I live."
"That's less than an hour," he remarked as he led her into the back room of the shop.
The sex was surprisingly good under the circumstances. The girl was extremely enthusiastic about her imminent fate, and that enthusiasm carried over into their intercourse. Steve, for his part, despite the distressing circumstances of their union, was turned on enough by her beauty that he enjoyed the experience immensely.
Afterwards, she got up and examined Steve's collection of knives as he lay panting on the cot. She selected one with a long slender blade and positioned herself on her back atop the large butcher's block in the centre of the room. "I'm ready, darling, get over here."
Steve dreamily stood up and walked over to her side. "Are you sure this is the right thing to do?"
She looked at him suspiciously. "I already paid you, so you can't back out now."
"I know," he said with obvious sadness.
"Now, make sure you burn all of my clothes and such, and package me all up and have me under the bridge before midnight. Oh, by the way, feel free to save a few steaks for yourself. Bob won't notice if you take only thigh or arm pieces and the like, so long as all the recognizable bits are there." She looked down at her breasts with a smile as she said this.
Steve wondered if he would dare to consume a part of this lovely body. He kissed her on the forehead, his mind dazed. Before he had released his lips, she dragged the knife across her throat, and blood began to splash out and spatter Steve's face and chest. Her body rocked for just a moment before she died. The knife clattered to the floor in the otherwise silent butcher shop. Steve stared with horrible realization at what lay before him on the butcher's block.
He snapped out of it and selected his favourite cleaver. "Not much time, and a big order to fill," he said to himself as he glanced at his watch.