Posted by Sawney Beane on August 10, 2006 at 23:42:43:
The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #49
DWAYNE'S GOURMET PUB AND EATERY
by Sawney Beane
28, 31 May; 2 June 1997
3,938 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: Tasty Kate's has some competition now! Linda stumbles into a small cannibal restaurant and partakes of the homey alternative the giant Tasty Kate's corporation. I am rather fond of this story because of the conversations as well as the general situation itself.
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5 May 245 NCY
The board meeting was a mess and lasted for well over four hours. None of my proposals were accepted, and I felt faint from hunger and frustration by the time the chairman's sadistic business orgy came to an end and we were released into the darkness of a day long since fled beyond the horizon.
I found myself roaming the streets alone at night, just searching for a restaurant in which to assuage my hunger. Nothing I saw appealed to me. I'd had Chinese the day before and Italian the evening before that. After my marathon meeting, I was dead tired but determined to enjoy something really special for dinner. But I couldn't find anything interesting, and the pouring rain was making me feel depressed and uncomfortable.
That's when I stumbled into a hole in the wall called Dwayne's Gourmet Pub and Eatery. The appearance of the place didn't seem to match the name, which was crudely painted onto the large boards that resided where the storefront windows belonged. But it struck my fancy, so I entered.
I was the only customer. A dozen or so tables littered the dimly-lit room, and a long bar occupied most of the far wall. The bartender was the only employee I noticed, so I went over and said "Hello."
"Hello, Missy," he replied, "Are ya buyin' or sellin'?"
I failed to understand this question. "Buying or selling what?"
"Why, meat o' course." The short late-middle aged bearded man seemed genuinely shocked at my confusion.
"I haven't got any meat."
"Shore ya do; you's made o' meat, Missy."
"Maybe, but that's meat I would like to keep."
"Have it yer way."
"Do you ask this sort of question of all your customers?"
"Nah, only ones as good lookin' as you is."
I blushed, but I suddenly realized what kind of restaurant I was standing in. "This is a cannibal restaurant?"
"Yep, o' course it is an' I'd jus' love to buy a lass o' yer qual'ty."
"Sorry, but I'm not for sale." I considered leaving immediately, but I was no stranger to cannibalism. My family was quite well off, and we tended to visit Tasty Kate's for all of our special occasions. My sixteenth birthday party had been graciously supplied by a young man named Michael. I remembered the succulence of his muscular flesh. "But I thought that Tasty Kate's was the only cannibal restaurant in town."
"Oh, no, they's five other 'uns. Mine's the oldest; it was started by my gran'father sixy-five years ago, jus' one year after Tasty Kate's started. Mine's also the best."
"I suppose I could be up for a nice rump roast this evening."
"We's got some real tenner young lassies jus' dyin' to give you a tas' o' their arses."
"Actually, I think I'd prefer a male."
"Then you's in the wrong place, Missy. We's only got lassies on the menu hereabouts."
I sat down at the bar in anticipation of a lengthy conversation. "Why in the world is that."
"Profit margins ain't as good fer the laddies as they is fer the lassies, an' I ain't got the money like Tasty Kate's does to keep any in stock that ain't gonna get me the mos' poss'ble payback."
This was news to me. I didn't see what difference it made to serve men or women in a restaurant. I'd had quite a few of each at Tasty Kate's with my family. "Why in the world is it more profitable to sell women?"
"Oh, sev'ral reasons really. Firs' o' all, they's lots o' more men comin' in fer to eat dinner than they is women. Don' know why that is, but it's a fact o' life. Other reason is that while people gen'rally prefer to eat the opposite sex, lassies will gen'rally eat other lassies if they caint get a man. On t' other han' mos' laddies feel a bit strange eatin' another man. So if everbody will eat a lassie but only some will eat a laddie, ya see I gots to sell women."
It made economic sense to me, strange as it was and despite the nagging feeling of injustice that assailed me. Nonetheless, just as he said, I wouldn't mind sinking my teeth into a woman if I had to. "I see. Well, maybe I'll stay for dinner."
"Good choice, Missy," he said with a broad smile. "We can give you the bes' meal you's ever et. Will you be orderin' from our live stock or do you jus' wan' ta eat a nice selection from our choice cuts. I rec'mend the live uns 'cause we's got sev'ral real nice uns today."
He was no fool and could tell that I was wealthy. He was pushing for the live stock because he didn't want to pass up a chance to sell his most expensive delicacies. Let the middle class worker splurge on the pre-butchered steaks. He showed me to a table, and I replied, "I believe I will take a look at your live stock. Could I see your menu?"
I expected to be handed a notebook computer filled with pictures of lovely young women with a death wish. Instead he handed me a single sheet of paper that listed the various cuts and serving styles and their respective prices. I was shocked to see that the rates were less than twenty percent of those to be found at Tasty Kate's. I was certain that he had only ugly women in his larder. "This is cheap!" I exclaimed despite myself.
The shopkeeper beamed proudly. "Yep, gotta keep the prices down 's wha' my daddy always said. Our overhead is real low--no advertizin'--but mos'ly we don' pay the lassies very much for their services."
"But how can you get women to volunteer if you don't pay them well?" I was frightened for a moment. "Or do you take these women against their wills?"
"Nah, don' worry. All but one o' my girls is here completely voluntary like, an' I gots a court order provin' that t' other 'un belong ta me. The only 'uns 'at min' whether or not you's a payin' them is the ones what is doin' it fer ta feed their families. They goes along nice and calm like mos' o' the time, but they don' wan' really ta be on the butcher block. I think that's jus' a little bit immoral, so I ain't got no problem with lettin' Tasty Kate's deal with those 'uns. All my ladies is one hunnert percent voluntary like--'cept fer that one I mentioned."
"How did you get her?"
"Oh, she's a scammer she is. Ate up a whole thigh steak afore she took off outta here like a bat outta hell. I catched her though. Turns out she ain't got no way to pay me for the meat she ate, so the court gave me her as a 'placement. She'll be a tenner bird, but if'n she don' stop her wailin' pretty soon, I ain't got no choices but to go ahead an' butcher her."
I winced at this little tale and was certain that I wanted no part in consuming this particular lady. "Where are the pictures?" I asked, "How can I pick out my dinner?"
"Ah, that ain't no problem. I'll jus' show 'um ta ya."
This surprised me a bit, but I followed the man over to a door just to the left of the bar. There was a small hand-lettered sign next to the door that read "lobster tank". I was soon to see the subtle humour in this. We entered without knocking, and I was shocked to see what was waiting to be found behind that unassuming door.
It was a relatively large dormitory room with about twenty beds lined up in one row of ten on each side of the central aisle. There were about eighteen young women, none of them with a stitch of clothing on. They were variously occupied in watching television, reading books and magazines, and chatting amongst themselves, but upon our arrival, all other activity ceased, and we were the object of every woman's attention. The looks on their faces clearly revealed that it was only the force of orders they'd previously received that kept them from crowding around us. There was that strange eagerness in them that I will never understand. Contrary to my expectations, these women were for the most part quite good-looking. There were only one or two that I would call truly beautiful, but almost all of them were relatively attractive. Most of them would probably have garnered at least a Grade B rating from Tasty Kate's, and that's nothing to sneeze at.
About half of the women were fully functional, but the others were missing some body parts. Some lacked an arm or a leg, while others were missing breasts. There was one girl in the far corner of the room, who was placidly watching television when we arrived. She was the most abbreviated, having lost both arms, both legs, and both breasts. I felt a little bit uncomfortable around so many women who didn't seem to mind that their appendages had been removed just for someone's night on the town.
All of the women in the room seemed quite satisfied with their predicament except for the blonde in the bed nearest the door on the right side of the aisle. I could immediately tell that she was the one here by the grace of the court. She buried her head in her hands and moaned and sniffed continuously. I'm sure she deserved her punishment, but I couldn't help but feel sorry for her.
The restaurateur was talking to me. "Looka here. This 'uns got a real nice rump." He motioned to a redhead near the middle of the room, and she trotted over eagerly. "Here now, Lindsay, ben' o'er an' show us that arse o' yourn."
Lindsay complied, and I looked upon an arse that I had spent hundreds of hours and perhaps as many dollars in a vain attempt to obtain for myself. If I could have grafted it onto my own body, I would surely have purchased that fine rear end, but I couldn't bear to eat such perfection, and I was losing my hunger for rump roast in general. I explained this to the restaurant owner, and mentioned that I really didn't know what I wanted since there seemed to be so many fine choices.
He showed me several options. He recommended a brunette's left breast, a raven-haired beauty's well-toned belly, the unwilling blonde's genitals, and another brunette's right calf. Nothing struck my fancy. By that time we had made our way deep into the room and were standing beside the bed of the limbless girl. She looked up at me with an almost pathetic eagerness. I realized that this rustic restaurant owner must have a pretty good surgical skill to keep this young lady alive after all she'd been through. In fact, each of her amputations was marked only by a neat line of stitches where the limb should have been.
The man snapped his fingers and said, "I's got it. Has you ever had sweet brains?"
"No, I can't say that I have."
"Well, frankly, I caint keep this 'un around fer much longer, though I hates to butcher her 'cause she's such a well behaved lass. An' she'd be a perfect choice fer sweet brains. Yer gonna love 'em!" He spoke about the girl as if she wasn't there, and that made me uncomfortable, but each word put new life into the young woman's face. She seemed so eager to get started.
The idea worried me in a vague sort of way, but I agreed, mainly because I knew the girl would be unbearably disappointed if I didn't choose her, but also because I have an adventurous palate that likes to try new things. I did wonder how this worked though.
"Great, you can go on back to yer table, an' I'll go 'n perpare this here filly for dinner. If'n you wants any comp'ny whiles you wait, you can take one o' the girls out there with you. But Debbie an' me won't be too long."
I declined this offer and returned to my table alone. As I left the lobster tank, I could see the disappointed glances from every girl along the line except one. Before long I began to hear a rather loud whirring sound from the kitchen behind the bar, and this later turned into an annoying grating sound. It was a lot like the sounds of a dentist drilling a cavity. I wondered what on earth I had gotten myself and poor Debbie into.
As I waited, I scanned the long wall to the right of the entrance. It was lined with photographs of nude smiling women. From the wrinkled edges and faded colours, it was apparent that some of the pictures were quite old, perhaps as old as the restaurant itself, but many others were brand new. Each photo was signed in the corner, and a tight feeling in my gut told me instinctively that these were all past menu items of this establishment.
I heard the restaurant owner's voice behind me. "Yep, ya can git yer pitcher up thar too if'n ya wants to. Tha's one o' the a'van'ages of bein' eaten in my place. Tha's ever lass what's bin served by me an' my father an' my gran'father. Nope, we're not like Tasty Kate's where them people'll fergit ya afore they's had a chance to shit ya out. Here you'll be 'membered ferever. Debbie here'll be the next un on my wall."
I turned and saw Debbie beaming proudly at this announcement. Yes, my dinner was still alive, and the news was a shock to me. She was strapped into a kind of cart that held her limbless torso erect with her head and long light brown hair about three and a half feet off the ground. The owner wheeled her over to my table, where I sat down and spread a napkin over my lap.
The restaurant owner handed me an odd-looking fork with extremely sharp tines and razor sharp edges. It was the ideal all-in-one eating utensil, but I didn't have the slightest idea what I was supposed to do with it. My hesitation did not go unnoticed, and the restaurateur grabbed a handful of Debbie's hair and used it to pull away a large oblong piece of her skull. I instantly knew what the dental tool noises had been, and I stared dumbfoundedly at the revealed brain of the limbless girl. Debbie herself had let out nothing more than a slight gasp at the violation of her head.
All I could say was, "She's still alive?"
"Yep, sweet brains's best thatta way.
"What's sweet about them?"
"Nothin' 'cept Debbie's a sweet lil' thing an' she'll tas' mighty fine. Ain't that right, Debbie?"
"Yes, I hope so, Dwayne!" Her voice was smooth and to some degree erotic. I couldn't believe that a girl with half her brain exposed to the air would behave in such a way.
"Well, missy, dig in afore she gits cold," Dwayne said with a snicker. "I's got some things to attend to in back. Have a nice meal." With that he left me alone with poor Debbie and very little appetite.
I very much didn't want to eat, but I also knew that it would be an unbearable insult to Debbie to back out now. So I leaned forward and peered into Debbie's gaping cranium. She had her back to me, but I had too many questions to keep silent.
"What do I do now?"
"Eat my brain, of course," she said with a slight girlish giggle.
"Raw?" This was too much.
"Yeah, that's how it's done. Take little bites, so it's easier to chew. Don't worry, I won't give you any diseases." Her voice took on a soothing instructional tone.
"OK, here goes, I'm sorry, Debbie."
"Don't be. Bon appetite."
I tried not to close my eyes as I slid the unusual fork into the back of her brain and sliced off a small morsel. I did close my eyes, however, when I placed the brain piece into my mouth. Debbie sighed slightly.
To my surprise, the taste was exquisite. I'd never had meat so tender as that girl's brain. I chewed deliberately until it was gone and felt the tension within me between resisting murdering poor Debbie and wanting to consume more of her brain.
"How am I?" I was surprised when she spoke for I had assumed that a hole in her brain would kill her or at least render her unconscious.
"Um. delicious...you mean that didn't affect you at all?"
"Thank you, I'm just blind in one eye, that's all. Be my guest; eat all you want."
I took another bite, which blinded her in the other eye but did little else. The third bite didn't have any effect that I could detect, but after the fourth bite she sighed like a deflated balloon and neglected to ask my opinion as she had each of the previous times. Nonetheless, her heart was still beating, so I knew at least part of her was still alive. After the fifth bite that was no longer true, and I knew that my dinner was deceased. I believe she bled to death, since there was quite a lot of blood pooling up in her cranium. I hadn't realized how much blood flows through a person's brain. I settled down to eat my fill of this delicacy now that I no longer had to concern myself with the well-being of the donor I was killing.
After a few more minutes I heard the restaurant door open and a small bell tinkle to announce the fact. I suddenly felt embarrassed because I had Debbie's blood running all down my chin, but the deep voice behind me was jovial.
"Fresh sweet brains 'eh? One of my favourites, and Dwayne makes 'em good don't he?"
"Yeah," I replied, "they're delicious."
"Oh, that's Debbie you got there!" he said with some happiness, "Boy her thigh sure was tasty. Good to see she finally got what she wanted!"
At that moment Dwayne emerged from the kitchen, thus saving me from having to come up with a reply to that comment. As Dwayne opened the door, I could hear screaming, and I knew that the court-awarded blonde was on the butcher block.
"Hey, Al, where ya bin?" Dwayne asked of the new arrival. "'s bin nearly a week since ya bin here! Jus' let me talk ta this young lassie afore I takes yer order."
Dwayne walked over to me and asked if I wanted anything. "How's Debbie treatin' ya?"
"She's very nice, and her brain is delicious," I replied with ill-concealed enthusiasm.
"I knowed ya would like 'er. You jus' holler if'n ya need anything," he said as he walked over to serve the newcomer. "What can I do ya fer, Al?"
"Did I notice you doin' in poor Amanda back there?"
"Yep, stupid thief whore like ta drive me crazy what with 'er bitchin' an' moanin' all o' the time."
"Excellent, I reckon I'd love a bit of that one's arse. Don't you think you could slice me off a steak?"
"No problem, ya wanna cut 'er yerself?"
"No, thanks, Dwayne, not this time. But I do have a favour to ask you."
"Shoot."
"Now that you're going to have to cut up what's left of good old Debbie, do you think you could save her cunt for me?"
Dwayne snorted derisively but good-naturedly. "If'n ya gets here firs'; I's got five other guys wants the same piece o' meat. She's my mos' pop'lar meal."
Al took it in stride as seemed to be his style. "Well, I've got the advantage because I'm the only one that knows she's gone. I'll be here tomorrow night early."
"Meantime I'll go rustle up that rump roast you ordered," said Dwayne as he returned to the kitchen.
Al examined the wall of pictures for a while with an air of familiarity that revealed that he'd personally taken part in the demise of many of the wall's occupants. Then he got bored and decided to strike up a conversation with me.
"I ain't seen you around her before," he said, "I'm Al."
"I'm Linda; this is my first time here," I said around mouthfuls of Debbie's brain.
"Not your last I expect," he said with an uninterpretable leer. But his next statement confirmed my interpretation, "Bet a nice young thing like yourself would look good on either end of the fork."
"Not going to happen," I said with a sweet smile and enough seriousness to make him change the subject.
"Pretty bold to have sweet brains as your first cannibal meal."
"I've had several meals at Tasty Kate's," I said just a little too coldly.
His attitude changed abruptly. He went from regarding me as a novice cannibal and perhaps a potential meal to regarding me as a rich bitch which was far worse. "Thought you might like see how the other half eats?"
"And who they eat," I remarked, "Not too bad if I do say so." This eased the tension a little bit.
"Yep, Dwayne's one hell of a cook," he said, eager to end the confrontation. "I been coming here for longer than I want to believe, and he always has the best meal in town."
"I agree," I said as I stood up and wiped my mouth. I'd polished off about two-thirds of Debbie's brain, and I was stuffed. "Would you like some sweet brains, Al?" I offered.
"Seeing as it is Debbie's brain and since you're so kind to offer, of course." He walked over and enjoyed a few big bites immensely, while I found Dwayne and paid my bill. As I was leaving, Al bade me farewell with exaggerated politeness, and I noticed Dwayne wheeling Debbie's remains back to the kitchen.
I must admit that since that experience I've been a little bit obsessed with that restaurant. I've gone back to Dwayne's at least once a month ever since that day, and I've seen Dwayne and Al and several of Dwayne's other loyal customers. Sometimes I order pre-butchered cuts since they're kinder on my pocketbook, but I do enjoy visiting the lobster tank once in a while. It's funny how you can kind of get to know the girls in there and keep track of their progress toward destruction. Dwayne's is a place where everyone gets what they want--everyone except poor Amanda that is, and I haven't seen any others like her since.
Whenever I show up at Dwayne's, Dwayne and the guys always good-naturedly ask me to try out the other end of the fork for a change. It got on my nerves at first, but I find it rather exciting nowadays. Don't get me wrong, I'm not the kind to lie down on the butcher block. I love life far too much, especially when there are such delicacies available for my palate. I also don't want you to think that I have completely lost respect for Tasty Kate's, because I haven't, but if I did ever decide to give myself over to a cannibal restaurant--say I had a terminal disease and knew I didn't have long to live anyway--I would be eaten at Dwayne's rather than at Tasty Kate's.