Posted by Sawney Beane on May 04, 2006 at 22:24:12:
The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #16
THE DEATH OF THE EMPEROR
by Sawney Beane
25 May 1992 - 18 October 1994
10,011 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/androphagia. If you find such things offensive, please steer clear; you have been warned.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is one of several stories that are based on a very detailed idea that took several years to finally be written up. The story was written more or less as I had originally intended it, but I was somewhat disappointed in it. Probably after thinking about it off and on for several years, nothing would have been satisfying enough.
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I was never a very good waitress. I dreamed of my shattered aspirations to higher things as I picked up the tray of appetizers and walked out into the crowd of murmuring and mingling attendees. I carried twenty-four of the most sought after morsels in the world and was duly mobbed as my cargo was revealed. My life could have been better. The first to approach me, a tall man in his thirties, stared at me piercingly. He chatted menacingly as he surveyed the two dozen chocolate disks on my platter.
He carefully selected one and picked it up by the blue flag that pierced it. He rapturously popped the candy into his mouth and the flag into his pocket with a single fluid motion. He chewed noisily with his mouth open, and I could see the pink centre of the candy through his teeth. Before walking away, the man pushed my long brown hair to one side, revealing my bare breast. His icy eyes made me feel naked for the first time that day. He murmured something like, "Such good things go to waste," while shaking his head slightly and stalked off.
My head was reeling as I stared at the line that had formed behind him. The twenty-three remaining disks did not last long, and I didn't either. I fell in a faint and hit the floor painfully just after an overweight woman popped the last morsel into her mouth and its green flag into her purse. My empty silver tray clattered on the ground as I dreamed.
I have to admit that I'm not too up on my history, and I don't really know how the first Emperor came to power three hundred years ago. However, I have been told that it had something to do with overcoming injustice and finally securing freedom for all. All I know is that my husband was the sixteenth Emperor, and he was very good for the world. During his twenty-six year reign, the world lived in total peace and prosperity. He was a great man and will be remembered in the annals of history forever. I won't be.
The matter of imperial consorts is a very complex subject. Every emperor has two wives and ten to fifteen concubines. The distinction between the two is rather superficial. At the beginning of each year, the emperor appoints first and second wives from among his concubines. The promotion lasts for a year and may or may not be renewed depending on whether or not the emperor's fancy shifts to another concubine. The offspring of wives and concubines are equally eligible for the throne, with the eldest male of the whole batch winning. The only real difference, other than the fact that the wives get slightly larger chambers and a few more attendants, is that wives accompany the emperor in public, while the concubines are never seen outside the palace.
Selection is an important consideration, because the emperor can't just go to a singles bar and pick up dates. In most cases a short list of candidates is presented to the selection committee by the individual territories whenever an opening comes up. Different territories have different means of coming up with the list. In the smaller ones it's usually just a matter of reviewing applications, but others hold elaborate beauty pageants with all the accompanying nonsense. In either case, the candidate pool is reduced to five or so by the selection committee and presented to the emperor, who makes the final decision based on photographs and other application materials.
There are other ways to become a consort however. The emperor employs a flock of individual observers who travel the realm with an eye out for eligible women and invite the most favourable to join the candidate pool. That's how I got in.
My best friend, Leslie, and I were walking down Fifth Avenue in New York. We were on vacation and enjoying ourselves immensely. I wanted to visit the newly restored Empire State Building before returning to our hotel. As we walked, we were approached by a man who identified himself as an imperial spotter and explained his job briefly. He invited both of us to visit his office for further consultation on the possibility of becoming imperial concubines.
If anything, Leslie, was better looking than I was. Her long black hair framed the softest face I had ever seen. Her dark brown eyes and tall slim body were unexcelled in my experience. I envied her then, and I still do, but we were always the closest of friends. We were both excited beyond belief to be considered. It was what every girl dreamed of but few realized.
To make a long story slightly shorter, we were both chosen by the emperor himself and invited to join the imperial court. I would never have guessed the amount of paperwork involved in becoming a concubine. Of course, there were countless medical tests and evaluations. The hardest part was saying good-bye to our relatives. They would not be allowed to visit us ever again. We made it through everything without undue trouble.
We arrived at the crystal palace on my nineteenth birthday (I was two months older than Leslie). Our training began immediately. We had to get up early every morning and begin studies which covered our conduct and responsibilities in every possible circumstance. This included such special ceremonies as births, funerals, marriages, summit meetings, state dinners, and private banquets. It also included day-to-day responsibilities as well as those special evenings when we would be chosen to spend the night with the Emperor.
Most of the time we had private tutors to explain everything to us. However, sometimes we were allowed to discuss matters with the eleven existing concubines and (rarely) with the two wives. All were kind and courteous because they remembered the day-not so long ago for most-when they had arrived at the palace in a state of utter confusion. As we went along, everything we needed to know was presented to us in writing, which was later compiled to form a veritable concubine's handbook.
At night we would retire to the plush trainee's suite, which Leslie and I were sharing temporarily. It had seven rooms and expensive antique furniture. It was a dump compared to the apartments occupied by the confirmed concubines.
Finally, after two months of intensive training, the momentous day came. My wedding day was an exciting affair. Leslie and I were dressed in elegant gowns and led into an auditorium housing most of the palace servants and residents. We marched to the dais as pompous music urged us on. The Emperor's personal archbishop placed jade rings on our fingers and pronounced us imperial concubines. The Emperor did not attend. After the ceremony, we were each shown our new apartments. Mine was a fabulous place and I had it all to myself. However, I knew that I would miss Leslie in the future.
That night, Leslie was chosen to share the Emperor's bed. I would have to wait another twenty-four hours to consummate my marriage to the Supreme Sovereign. My bed was shared with one of our five vasectomised attendants. Marvin's presence in my room and in my body was fully authorized. The Emperor's predecessors had long realized what many royal men throughout the ages had failed to grasp. It is preferable to keep your wives and concubines in practice to maintain peak sexual performance. The five attendants were assigned every night to five Imperial consorts after the Emperor had made his nightly choice.
All of this is not to say that the Emperor looked highly upon one of his consorts becoming too attached to one of her surrogate husbands. Whenever the household officials sensed that a special closeness was developing where it shouldn't, the attendant in question would usually be replaced and sent as far away as possible.
Marvin, the attendant who shared my bed the evening of my wedding, was gentle and methodically erotic in bed. He had had enough practice to drain every last ounce of passion he might have once had. Nonetheless, he was quite satisfying but not so satisfying as to distract my attention from the eager anticipation with which I awaited the next night and my actual consummation. It turned out far differently than I had expected.
The following morning was Monday. I awoke early to find that Marvin had vanished. Just as I was pondering this strange occurrence, a servant arrived to summon me to the concubines' dining hall. When I arrived with my summoner, I saw a horribly solemn gathering. About seven of my fellow concubines were scattered around the three long tables in the centre of the room. They were chatting in tense whispers with one another. Some had already guessed that the worst had happened. Leslie was hunched in one corner sobbing her eyes out. The first and second wives were together in another corner near their private tables, somewhat apart from the other consorts, as chosen wives tended to be.
The remaining concubines followed me in, and everyone took their positions. I sat at a table with four other concubines. I could not speak to Leslie because she occupied the farthest table with three other girls. The Head of Household Affairs strode solemnly into the room. He read a prepared statement to us which explained that the Emperor had died in his bed the previous night. Leslie had awoken in the middle of the night to discover that she was sharing a bed with her dead husband. Funeral ceremonies were to begin immediately.
We all knew what this meant. We had studied the protocols for Imperial funerals in our recent training. However, to refresh the memories of the older concubines, a document was passed out which outlined the specific rituals which would be observed within and without the Imperial Palace.
I was stricken with grief more than many of the others. I was shocked by the realization that I would never see my husband alive. We all took the news with mixed emotions. Our grief at the loss of a husband and emperor was enormous, but our eagerness to perform our duty to him in death was enough to keep us from despair. I was surprised at how similar our reactions were. Despite my additional pain at never having met the Emperor and Leslie's sorrow at having witnessed the demise of our lord, the fifteen consorts reacted with uniform willingness to carry out their duties.
The morning's ceremony began without hesitation. Our five sexual attendants were led into the room in a mournful single-file line. It was not the death of the Emperor that preoccupied their minds. They knew their fate and tried desperately not to give in to fear and emotion. I agree that their lot was a cruel one. Being slaves, they did not receive any honour or true fulfilment for what they were about to have done to them.
They were all spotlessly clean and shaven from head to foot. They looked much like inhuman aliens. It was not a particularly pleasing sight. They lined up side-by-side on command and stood silently with their heads bowed and eyes closed as the First Empress inspected each of them thoroughly. When she was satisfied with her perusal, she draped a golden medallion around the neck of the farthest to the right. The Second Empress followed with a similar inspection and a silver medallion for the man in the centre. These chosen two were instructed to remain standing in their places as the remaining three were each led to one of the three large tables. Their wrists and ankles were securely fastened to the corners of the tabletops by strong leather straps. Black silk blindfolds were placed around their frightened eyes. The selected two were then led to similar positions on the smaller tables to one side of the room.
The First and Second Empresses were led by servants to their tables, while the thirteen concubines drew lots to determine the roles we would play in the following event. I took my position at the head of Marvin's table. I had hoped for any position but this. Three others occupied the sides and foot of the table. The other nine were distributed to the two other tables.
Our table was designated as the first table, so Marvin had the dubious honour of going first. On cue the four of us began. My tongue and lips searched frantically around Marvin's trembling mouth. Three other mouths attached themselves to Marvin's nipples and penis. Our attendant was too frightened to take much pleasure in this activity. However, as tradition demanded, we continued for several minutes.
Eventually, the command was issued, and my mouth wandered to Marvin's ear to whisper reassurances and comforts before making the fateful journey to his neck. He did his best to remain calm, but the terror in his eyes struck out at me from behind the silk blindfold. I pushed his head back as far as it would go, exposing the arteries of the man's neck.
After gathering my strength into one cruel bite, I drove my teeth into the trembling neck. Marvin lost control of himself as I began to taste the pleasantly metallic flavour of the fluid I had released. Marvin's desperate death struggle put a strain on the leather bonds, but they were too much for him. As his strength began to wane, I continued to drink his precious supply of blood. When he seemed exhausted and near death, the other three concubines in attendance were instructed to drive their straight white teeth into the flesh of his genitals and nipples. He didn't feel the pain of these later wounds.
When we had sucked all of the blood that we could, we sat back and watched the show at the second table, as attendants dragged our victim out of the room on a silver platter. Leslie was the fifth concubine at the second table. In her distress, she was happy with the low-responsibility assignment she had drawn. The second sexual attendant died in much the same way as had Marvin, except that Leslie busied herself stroking his shaking feet.
The third table was a different story. A concubine named Susan whom I deemed to be an extremely cruel and unpleasant woman sucked passionately on her victim's penis. In an act of pure unmitigated evil, she closed her jaws upon said part of the man's anatomy before his throat had been ruptured by the teeth of gentle Justine, the oldest concubine present. When she noticed what Susan had done, Justine instantly drove her teeth into the man's throat in an attempt to mitigate his suffering. Nonetheless, the man died an agonizing death and struggled until deep cuts appeared in his wrists and ankles from the chaffing of the leather straps. Susan seemed very pleased with herself.
Finally, the Second Empress slit the throat of her victim and was followed rapidly by the First Empress' similar act of violence. All of the dead attendants were carted off on silver platters soon after they died. When it was finally over, the late Emperor's fifteen consorts returned to their chambers to prepare themselves for the difficult days ahead.
The concubines each discovered without surprise that a number from one to thirteen had been pasted to her door. I was overjoyed to find the number one attached to the entrance to my chamber. I spent the morning hurriedly putting things in order.
At noon we were led back into the dining hall for lunch. Soon after claiming our seats at the long tables, we were presented with five large silver platters full of cooked meat. Our five sexual attendants looked much the same except for their golden brown skin and the fact that their internal organs had been removed and arrayed neatly along the edges of their platters. Marvin looked very tasty.
Leslie didn't eat very much, and the girls in Susan's group were irritated with Susan for making their meat tough. My group, in contrast, relished the meal enormously. I chewed eagerly at the meat of Marvin's neck until it was mostly gone. Then I attacked his chin and left cheek. I used my knife to pull his tongue from between the exposed teeth. It tasted good. I kept going and had just enough time to pluck out the left eyeball and pop it into my mouth before the meal ended.
I looked up and saw that Meredith had done an admirable job of consuming the right calf, while Monica and Natalie had between them devoured most of Marvin's internal organs. Despite our large appetites, enough of Marvin remained for several days of feasting.
At three o'clock I was ready. We were assembled in a large room specially designed for the purpose. I was treated with respect by everyone present. The concubines and wives lined up and took turns praising my beauty and perfect character. I replied modestly. Leslie cried tears of sorrow mixed with tears of joy. "I'll miss you Melissa!" she said passionately.
"Not for long," I replied with a smile. This cheered her up enough to let her smile through the tears. Even the wives had good things to say.
I was led into the adjoining bath area by several attendants. For nearly an hour I was scrubbed, rinsed, dried, perfumed, and polished by the other concubines and a group of specially trained attendants. I felt so proud of myself.
Afterwards, I was carried back into the main room in an ornate sedan chair. This was necessary to keep my feet clean. It also looked very good. I wore nothing but an orange ribbon in my hair. The group set me gently on the large wooden table in the centre of the room. The smooth surface felt good on my bare skin. I remained for several minutes on my back staring up at the chains above me. I was truly ready. Not a trace of sorrow crossed my mind. The only thing I suffered from was nervousness. This was understandable.
On cue I spoke the speech of several sentences which I had been instructed to memorize for the occasion. It was all about how I loved my husband and master the Emperor and how I had no sorrow in performing my duty as I was now doing. It was all true, despite its contrived sound.
When I had said what I was supposed to say, the others said what they were supposed to say. This consisted of individual congratulations from each with an expressed wish that they themselves could behave as well as I in similar circumstances.
When it was done, a white-robed doctor injected my arm with a drug that was supposed to act as a muscle-relaxant. This was done to tenderise the meat. I was presented with two leather anklets, which I affixed tightly to my legs. The Head of the Household checked the fit of the leather straps and then pulled two chains down from the ceiling. He fastened the clips on the ends of these chains to the straps. By this time, the drug was beginning to take effect, and I could feel my body relaxing and my mind retreating.
The chains were pulled by an electric motor until I was suspended upside down with my fully extended arms just out of reach of the table below me. I looked up (down) and watched several male attendants remove the heavy wooden surface of the table to reveal a sort of sloped pan with a small hole in the centre. I knew that my blood would soon be flowing through this hole and into a special vessel where it would be stored until the funeral of my husband.
I asked for the knife as I was supposed to do at this point. The other consorts looked on in awe as a man in elegant court robes brought a jewelled dagger into the room on a red satin pillow. It was lifted toward my waiting hand.
The moment I touched the weapon, a small nervous man with glasses entered the room and spoke to the Head of the Household in urgent tones. The latter shouted an order to the bearer of the knife, who grabbed the weapon from me. I did not understand what was happening. This was partly due to the muscle relaxant and my groggy state of mind.
I felt myself being lowered to the table. I fell into a deep slumber between the time my head touched the surface of the table and the moment my feet landed. Something had gone very wrong.
I awoke around five thirty with the aid of the Head of the Household, who quickly explained that because my marriage had not been consummated, I would not be permitted to play the part of a concubine in the funeral ceremonies. My participation thus far was the result of an administrative error.
It took me several minutes after his departure to realize the full extent of my misfortune. Not only had I been cheated out of the honour and glory of my duty, but I had also been condemned to a slow torturous death after the funeral of my husband. Life just isn't fair sometimes. I cursed my fate with tears in my eyes.
This is how Leslie found me when she came to visit and pay her condolences after finishing dinner with the other concubines. She had been reassigned to my position at the table and had enjoyed Marvin's ear, forehead, and part of his brain. I cried on her soft shoulder. She wiped away my tears but they were continually replaced by new ones.
At eight o'clock, we shuffled into the sacrifice chamber to watch Justine give her life for her husband. It was strange to watch the ceremony from the other side after having experienced the business end earlier that day.
Justine was calm and composed. She was much older than the others-nearly forty-four. Her story was an unusual one. She had been ready to die for several years now and seemed very relieved as she took the dagger and dragged its shining blade across first one and then the other of her slender wrists. As she handed the weapon back to its keeper, we all watched two red streams pour out of her arms and drip from the tips of her long fingernails. Justine's excitement was soon replaced by a satisfied smile. Her shining eyes slowly dimmed. As I watched Justine's blood drip off of her hands and into the collection vessel my mind was flooded with various thoughts.
I recalled Justine's well-publicized life. The young Emperor had looked out over his vast garden on the day of his coronation. The corpse of his aged father was still warm, and most of the elder Emperor's concubines were still alive. The new Emperor gazed into the beautiful garden and saw something even more beautiful. An eighteen-year-old girl reclined on a bench, her hand idly teasing a small white kitten.
This scene was immediately recorded in a sonnet by the twenty-eight year old Emperor and has since been the subject of countless songs and romantic semi-fiction stories. Justine was soon summoned to the Emperor's side and was raised from being the daughter of a common maidservant to being the Imperial First Wife. She held this position for eleven years before sliding to the Second Wife spot. It took six more years for her beauty to fade enough for her to become a concubine.
These demotions were extremely unusual. It occurred but rarely that a wife was not either re-elected for her position or served as the main course at a state dinner.
This latter honour was not something to be disappointed about. In fact this is the way all imperial consorts die, with the exception of those who outlive the Emperor. Such state dinners are frequent. The meal is not always an imperial consort. Most of the time, the main course is contributed equally by the nations involved. In the Empire, this is usually done by selecting a woman from a pool of volunteers.
Whenever an imperial consort is deemed available for consumption by her husband, she is placed at the top of the list and served at the next dinner of appropriate importance. This usually occurs when the consort in question reaches an age of about twenty-five or thirty. Most don't live much beyond this age because their beauty begins to fade, and the Emperor is eager to replace them with younger consorts.
Most First Wives end their year in this way if they are not rechosen. This is because demotions tend to be most awkward for all involved. Relations between former and current wives tend to be somewhat strained. Justine was exceptional in the eyes of her imperial husband, but his decision to retain her as a consort was hotly discouraged by the imperial advisors.
I had witnessed such a state dinner on the previous Friday. I was a waitress, as was Leslie. Unfortunately, the Emperor had not attended because he was complaining of chest pains. We watched during the tea which preceded the business meeting. The two consorts we were replacing, Mary and Tara, were chatting casually with the foreign ministers present. Several other girls in various national costumes were scattered about the room. The meeting was very large with representatives from several dozen nations. In all, seven girls were to be consumed. The two Imperial Consorts were joined by a German girl of eighteen, an Australian woman several years older, two Chinese women in their mid twenties, and an African princess, who seemed much more nervous than the rest.
When the business meeting started, the seven were led out of the room and into the kitchen. They all died in the next few minutes in a manner similar to the way I almost did but much faster. They were prepared elegantly and served in a gourmet dinner that no one present would forget for a long time. The Emperor was presented in his room with the genitals of his two dead consorts. He reportedly complimented the taste and bestowed upon the pair of concubines full posthumous honours.
Leslie and I were not at all alarmed by the events and did not dread the day when we would have to go through the ceremony. This is often difficult for outsiders to understand. I certainly can't explain it. We just know that everything we have to do is right and beautiful. Incidentally, the meeting had been very successful diplomatically. All of the nations present had been so pleased with the food as to be more than willing to cooperate in all of the issues discussed before and after the meal.
Anyway, getting back to Justine's case, the Emperor loved her dearly and could not bear to part with her. Her career as an Imperial Consort lasted twenty-six years-nearly five times the average. She never seemed to feel any jealousy against the current wives. She was a truly kind-hearted woman. Her excellent beauty lasted longer than most. However, all things must pass, and she had faded somewhat in recent years. Nonetheless, the Emperor could not bear to eat her and still paid quite a bit of attention to her. She was, in fact, the mother of the heir to the throne.
Justine's only son was being coronated in a distant part of the palace even as we watched the last drops of blood flow from her pale wrists. When the bleeding stopped, she was brought down, and the blood was wiped from her hands. Her faint smile remained as she was carried to the kitchen on a silver platter. My eyes filled with tears. I envied her so much.
I was given several jobs after my aspirations had been crushed. I was taken to the kitchen after Justine's death to help with the butchering. I watched nervously as several men and women descended upon the corpse with large knives and saws.
As each piece was separated from the rest of the body, I or one of several other girls was instructed to carry it on a silver platter to another table. There it was quickly wrapped in paper by a trained expert and carried off to one of several freezers by another set of messengers. I nearly fainted as I carried the woman's head across the room. It smiled up at me with a forgiving gaze. The red ribbon in her long hair sparkled in the harsh light of the kitchen. My mind reeled, but I made it through the ordeal. I returned exhausted to my bedroom at eleven o'clock.
That night ten concubines slept peacefully in their plush rooms. Three of those were sleeping for the last time of their lives. Another concubine rested peacefully in nearly a dozen freezers. The remaining two discussed my fate in my room late into the night.
Leslie came to see me soon after my return. She was sympathetic in the extreme. I gazed depressedly at her lovely body. Even in her thin silk nightgown, she looked better than I did. I looked at my naked body unhappily.
Leslie looked at me too. After several minutes of discussion of my situation, there was nothing left to say. The matter was simple and hopeless. Leslie told me I was beautiful. I smiled faintly, but I wasn't happy. She kissed me gently on the lips. My mind was jolted back several weeks. She hadn't done that in a long time.
She saw that I enjoyed the reminder and persisted. Her kisses became more and more passionate. I responded by slipping her nightgown off her quivering body and onto the floor. After a while, she gave up on my lips and moved to my neck and shoulders. I sighed with pleasure. We both chose to temporarily forget our sorrow and gave in to unrestrained passion.
My breasts were the next subjects of her attention. My mind fled as her tongue and lips massaged my nipples. She finished and pounced on me. My life was perfect as her muscles contracted and relaxed rhythmically. I soon felt the wetness of her genitals on my thigh. I was happy. Several minutes later, we fell asleep side-by-side without a care in the world.
This was the first time I had made love to a woman since I arrived in the palace. The last time Leslie and I had slept together was the night we met the imperial spotter who recommended us for the royal house. In my long life, I've slept with many men, but Leslie was my only female lover. In many ways she was the best of all. I would truly miss her.
Breakfast was at seven o'clock Tuesday morning. I served drinks to the concubines as they assaulted their food. I ate only bread and some leftover beef. Leslie smiled encouragingly at me. I could tell that she felt better that day. My pleasure had been only temporary.
At ten o'clock we watched the light sparkle off of Susan's yellow ribbon as the blood dripped from her wrists. I was especially jealous at that point. There was no conceivable reason why honour should be denied to me while monsters like her should die honourably. I had to fight the urge to throw her heart on the ground and stomp on it as I carried it across the kitchen on my silver platter. She joined Justine in the freezers without incident.
I missed lunch because of my kitchen duties. I ate a tasteless meal with the ordinary kitchen staff. My humiliation was mounting.
At three o'clock Monica donned a green ribbon. She was more nervous than most. She was very young. She'd been in the palace for less than a year and was only nineteen at the time of her death. I liked her a lot. She was quiet and beautiful. It was widely believed that she would have become a first or second wife the following year. She was understandably disappointed that the Emperor had died before she had gotten her chance.
I was promoted from hauler to wrapper afterwards and joined several others in individually wrapping each of Monica's body parts in heavy paper as they were delivered. I watched with fascination as I sent each part I had wrapped off to the freezers. I was taken away from my job early that night because I was scheduled to attend a special banquet a six o'clock.
I was dressed in a long blue evening gown for the evening. It was the first time I had worn any clothing since the previous day's aborted sacrifice. I kept the orange ribbon in my hair against the protests of my costumer.
The dinner was attended mostly by park rangers. There were representatives from the management of each of the nation's many Imperial Parks. I was somewhat out of place because I had been invited only as the result of an extra seat at the table. The Ministry of the Interior was one of the smallest of the ten Imperial Ministries. The guests were all high-ranking members of the appropriate bureaucracy. There were to be ten banquets-one for each department. The first two had been held the previous night. The last two were to take place on Friday night.
I sat down next to a handsome ranger from the west coast. He seemed to recognize me. It wasn't difficult. I was the only woman present not wearing a uniform of the Imperial Park Service. Everyone had been informed beforehand that I would be attending the event. My ranger politely discussed various issues of negligible interest to me without referring to my plight. He seemed very nice.
The Minister of the Interior stepped nervously out of the crowd to a podium at the head of the table to begin his speech. Everyone else claimed their assigned seats. The minister's nervousness was conspicuous in a man whose political career stretched over four decades. His short speech was meaningless to me. It was mostly drivel intended to glorify the environmental and organizational strides that the ministry had made with his guidance over the last seven years. He was given a standing ovation out of politeness rather than appreciation of his words.
The minister unsmilingly climbed onto the table and stared at the ceiling expectantly. My ranger and I sat next to his right knee and could see it shivering nervously. I never did understand men.
Several nude waitresses entered and bound the minister's wrists and ankles to the corners of the table. Another waitress entered with large bouncy breasts and a dagger. She was very attractive. She later became a concubine of the new Emperor.
The head waitress walked to the minister's side and placed a passionate kiss on his lips. The smile this action evoked died quickly. She caressed his neck and chest tenderly before removing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. The revealed chest was relatively muscular for a sixty-five year old man. The waitress kissed and caressed his chest for some time. The purpose of these affections was to relax the minister. The muscle relaxant he had been injected with shortly before his speech was not to be relied upon in the case of an unwilling victim.
Eventually, the waitress showed him the dagger. He trembled as he nodded reluctantly. He had no choice. The waitress showed inhuman tenderness throughout the entire ceremony even as she pushed the weapon into the man's rapidly beating heart. He shrieked an inelegant death shriek nonetheless.
The ten ministers were all older than the Emperor-most by at least ten years. This was usual because men younger than the Emperor refused to accept such jobs. They fail to realize, however, that the life expectancy of Emperors is statistically much shorter than the overall average. The reasons for this are unknown.
It seems odd to me that men refuse to accept an honourable death. Imperial consorts are eager to die in the service of their husband. Cabinet ministers don't see their responsibilities in such a favourable light. They do not accept cabinet positions unless it is highly likely that the Emperor will outlive them. Men are such babies.
To his credit, the Minister of the Interior's death scream was quite sedate in comparison with the Defence Minister's deafening roar heard from the next room a few minutes after our entree had been carted away on a silver tray. Incidentally, I had originally been invited to partake of the Defence Minister's flesh before it had become abundantly clear that every commissioned officer of the armed forces wanted a piece of him. I had then been reassigned to the Interior Ministry's banquet.
In the hour or so it took to butcher and cook the Minister, the pretty waitresses took our orders. I asked for a foot, but the waitress advised against it with a smile and wink. I changed my order to a thigh steak. The ranger next to me asked for ribs but reverted to thigh steak when informed that they were out of what he wanted.
The meal arrived eventually, and everyone stopped their conversations to attack the meat voraciously. All in all the flavour was good, but the old Minister was a bit stringy. I yearned for Marvin's flesh. Before the meal was over, the ranger gave me an address I knew I would never write to and thanked me for a wonderful conversation.
Leslie was waiting for me in my room. She was naked and released me from my dress as she described Natalie's death. Natalie had died calmly with a pink ribbon in her hair. Her death was not too premature because she had already been placed on the menu for a summit meeting three months hence.
Leslie finished her tale about the same time she finished undressing me and guided me to my bed. She placed me on my stomach and licked my back while I described the Minister of the Interior's last public appearance. We laughed at the weakness of the stronger sex and embraced passionately.
I'm not really sure how to describe my sexual urges. Bisexuals are common and so are lesbians. I'm not either, strictly speaking. I've always been attracted to men of all shapes and sizes. I've loved several since I lost my virginity at the age of sixteen. I've had many male lovers. The Emperor, my husband, was my first love in my eyes. Leslie was the second, and my second husband was the third.
I don't remember exactly how Leslie and I began our sexual relationship. We'd been best friends since we were four. I don't know who initiated the first experience. It was probably Leslie. She was always more aggressive than I. However, I had imagined it long before we actually tried it. My predominant memory of the moment is pure bliss. My bliss obliterated all other details. I miss her horribly.
The reason I don't consider myself a bisexual is that Leslie is the only woman I have ever been the least bit attracted to. I would never think of making love to any woman but her. This is not mere faithfulness, but a total lack of inclination.
Anyway, Leslie and I experienced a rewarding night of lovemaking. I took the dominant position this time, and she expressed more pleasure than I could ever hope to produce. We were both happy when we fell asleep. Only seven other concubines spent the night outside the freezers.
Wednesday and Thursday were much the same. Meals were served at seven, twelve, and five o'clock, and sacrifices were made at ten, three, and eight o'clock. I was permitted to watch each sacrifice. All six of the concubines who died in those two days did so honourably with greater or lesser degrees of nervousness. I tried to memorize the colour of each girl's ribbon. All were different; all sparkled as their wearer expired. I didn't know these six as well as I knew the others. It didn't matter. I envied them all equally.
Leslie slept with me in my room Wednesday night. Our sexual pleasures continued for a third night in a row. I especially enjoyed it when Leslie bit my ankles playfully. Her shapely teeth did not damage my flesh but created a tingly pain which I tended to confuse with pleasure. Before the night was through, she had chewed on more than just my ankles, and I had reciprocated to some extent. My trend of daytime unhappiness and nighttime happiness continued.
Thursday night Leslie, Meredith, and I were the only three concubines left alive. I still considered myself their peer despite the fact that they would be leaving me behind the next day. Leslie and I said "goodnight" to Meredith with an encouraging smile. I prepared to open the door to my room, but Leslie informed me that she preferred to sleep in her own room that night. My spirits fell like a rock. I had looked forward all day to my last night with her.
Leslie noticed and teased me, "What's wrong, silly? You're coming with me, of course."
I was happy once again. We walked to her room in high spirits. Inside she performed a short strip-tease and threw her silk gown at my face. I brushed it aside with a smile. I was already naked save my orange ribbon. Despite the assurances and suggestions to the contrary of the Head of the Household, I had refused to wear clothing while among the concubines. I'm not sure why.
Leslie tackled me to my surprise, and we crashed to the floor giggling like schoolgirls. We brawled for a while on the marble floor. We were careful not to injure one another. The cold marble reminded me unpleasantly of the sacrifice table, but I put it out of my mind for the duration of our rumble. She picked me up and carried me to the bathroom without warning and placed me in the large bathtub. She was very strong for her size. I wasn't sure what she intended to do with me, but I placed myself in her hands unconditionally.
She found some bubble-bath and rubbed it into the dry skin of my abdomen. She placed pressure in all the right places, and I was wet before she turned on the shower. The torrent of cold water struck my genitals with a pleasant blast of sensation. The bathtub began to fill, and I felt my nipples hardening from the cold. After a few minutes, Leslie turned off the water and hopped in on top of me. We splashed around for half an hour and made an incredible mess of her bathroom. We forgot to care.
When Leslie decided to move on to another phase of our fun, she led me out of the bathroom and ordered me to lie on the bed face up. We didn't bother to dry ourselves.
I recognized the tone of her command although she had used it only rarely. We weren't frequently inclined to bondage, but occasionally we were. I humbly obeyed her.
I marvelled as she produced several lengths of rope from her dresser drawer. I don't know to this day where she obtained such a thing. I waited with patient excitement as she tied my wrists and ankles to the bedposts. Another rope around my waist secured me to the bed frame. I was completely immobilized. She grabbed my nipples and twisted them until I let out a short yelp. The pain was thrilling.
Leslie rummaged around in her closet and found two stockings and a stolen butter knife. She tied one stocking around my eyes. Mysterious darkness enveloped me. The other stocking was soon secured around my mouth. The gag was efficiently tied and permitted me little more than a groan. The suspense was killing me.
Leslie proclaimed in authoritative tones that she was now prepared to kill me and eat my heart as a midnight snack. My gag helped me to repress a smile. I felt the blunt edge of the knife on my neck as Leslie pretended to sever my arteries. I struggled for a short time then went limp. I secretly wished that she would really kill me. After all, my life would effectively end in a few days anyway.
I tried not to move as Leslie pretended to lick blood from my neck and chin. When she was satisfied that I was really dead, she traced with the knife a small square between my breasts. She pretended to dig into my flesh with her fingernails and bit me several times with her sharp teeth. A bit later she proclaimed that my heart had been very tasty and decided to try my breasts.
Her warm breath tickled my firm nipples as her fingers and tongue frantically devoured my breasts. I restrained my urge to spring back to life and enjoyed her attentions silently. She eventually tired of this and moved further down. My eyes widened behind the blindfold as her tongue touched the upper edge of my pubic hair. One long lick later, my moist vagina was invaded by her rapidly-moving tongue. I held out for several minutes but eventually could take it no longer. I screamed with delight into my gag. My executioner jumped in mock fright at my resurrection. I heard the knife strike something across the room with a loud shatter. Leslie whipped off the blindfold and gag and demanded to know how I could still be alive.
My response shattered the mood temporarily. "I don't know," I said with heavy seriousness. Leslie immediately regretted her error and apologized profusely as she removed my other bindings. I told her not to worry about it, and she penitently returned to my crotch. Soon I was back in the throes of ecstasy.
The night continued like this for some time. Around four o'clock, Leslie collapsed exhausted beside me. She stroked my shoulder sadly for several minutes before drifting off to sleep. I did not sleep well at all. I looked with tearful eyes upon her slow-breathing form. I envied her so. I missed her even then. For the first time, death was the enemy which threatened to separate me from her. Nothing ever works out right in the end. I sobbed endlessly all night.
The next morning, Leslie awoke early after two hours of sleep and looked deeply into my tired tearful eyes. She told me then that she loved me and held me tight for a long time. When she broke the embrace, I could see the tears in her eyes. She wasn't bothered about her fate. It was mine that troubled her.
We walked slowly together to breakfast. Because there was extra meat, I was invited to join Meredith and Leslie for the meal. By now our male attendants did not look very human. One was entirely finished. The other two boasted only a few scraps of meat on their bare bones. I sat at Marvin's table and helped Leslie finish the last bit of his thigh. Meredith grinned expansively from the next table as she chewed happily on her last meal. I noticed a purple ribbon already in her long brown hair.
At ten o'clock Friday morning, Meredith had only a few well-wishers at her send-off. The consorts' ranks had been reduced to only Leslie, myself, and the two wives. We congratulated her warmly and washed her thoroughly. She said her speech, and we said ours. Soon she was hanging upside down above the table with a dagger in her hand. She was cool and collected as she slit her wrists and died calmly. I looked sadly into Leslie's eyes as she stared transfixed at the spectacle.
I requested to be excused from the slaughter of Meredith's body and spent the morning with my best friend. We chatted until lunch, avoiding the topic of her upcoming death and my lack thereof. The joyous occasion to come was not going to be terribly pleasant for me.
We attended lunch with relative happiness. Leslie finished Marvin, and I devoured what little remained of the other man. After a short stroll in the Imperial Gardens, we returned to Leslie's room to await her sacrifice. We engaged in a bit of lightweight sexual activity but mostly we just talked. I tried to remain as cheerful as possible. I didn't want to ruin my best friend's big moment.
My heart hit the floor as an attendant came to summon us for the sacrifice. Leslie walked proudly, refusing to let her sorrow get the better of her. I did my best, and I think she appreciated the effort.
I helped to wash her, paying special attention to the breasts and genitals. I'm sure she noticed this. I kissed her for the last time before we carried her to that fateful table. I wondered if her skin appreciated the smooth surface as much as mine had.
I barely listened to the speeches, even my own, and felt dreamy as if the muscle relaxant had been injected into me instead of her. I was aware of nothing but the rattle of the chains as she was carried upward.
I could not express myself as I would have liked, but Leslie rescued me from my helplessness. "I'll miss you, Melissa!" she said to me with a broad smile on her face.
The dream faded and I could see her through my tears. "Not for long," I replied with a genuine if short-lived smile. Suddenly, I craved the sight of her living body. My eyes darted around to take one last look at her firm upside-down breasts, shapely feet, moist genitals, long thighs, thin arms, long hair, bright eyes, the blue ribbon in her hair, excited smile, and smooth abdomen.
I couldn't get enough of her, but my attention was diverted by a gleaming golden object as it passed silently across first one wrist and then across the other. It came to rest on a red pillow and interested me no further. I gazed as if I had never seen such a thing before at the girl's gushing wrists. The red torrent flowed, and I felt utterly powerless to stop it. I wanted to pump it all back into her and enjoy her company for just ten more minutes. This was pure selfishness.
My gaze returned to her lifeless face, and I saw a single tear running down her forehead. I knew that this tear was not for herself but for me. I loved her more in that moment of death than I ever had. My life effectively ended forever. Unfortunately, my heart and brain could not accept their own end and continued their work undaunted.
I couldn't bring myself to help them cut her up and retired to my room and cried for several hours. Life is cruel. I regretted that my death was not to be as quick and painless as Leslie's had been. After a barely-touched dinner of beef and vegetables, I returned to my bed alone. I slept without Leslie for the first time since our husband died. I had lost my two most loved individuals in less than a week.
After my unpleasant fainting incident immediately after serving a dish of chocolate-covered concubine nipples to the eager attendees at the Emperor's funeral banquet, I awoke to find that I had avoided a great deal of waitress work. Most of the choice concubine body parts had been distributed by the time I returned to the dining room. In fact, most of the guests were finishing their main courses. This meant that the flesh of the twelve sacrificed concubines was almost gone. Leslie's image flashed into my mind. My sadness was unfathomable.
I stared at the wide casket at the end of the room. The emperor was laid out in his military uniform in the middle of the open coffin. His closed eyes stared at the ceiling. This was the first I'd ever seen of my beloved husband. The Second Wife was busily arranging twelve skulls in a line in the casket near the Emperor's feet. I noticed a blue ribbon tied between the eye sockets of one of the skulls. I moaned involuntarily.
Seeing that I was in no condition to serve, the head waitress guided me to a seat near the casket. I watched the remainder of the ceremony by the side of the new Emperor's younger half-brother. This handsome gentleman's mother had been consumed many years ago.
As I was getting settled, the First Wife began her speech. She spoke at length of the Emperor's tenderness, humanity, and honesty. She praised his diplomatic work, his domestic policy, his foreign policy, his tax reductions, and his love of children. The only thing she failed to mention was his skill as a lover, which was the quality that she must have been most familiar with. This took all of half an hour.
When she was through, she knelt in prayer beside the casket and requested blessings for her husband. Then she removed her long gown and climbed in next to him. The audience cheered as the waitresses helped the first imperial wife get comfortable on the right side of her dead husband. Her bare foot touched Leslie's skull.
The Second Wife took her turn at the podium and presented a fifteen-minute speech that resembled that of her superior predecessor in tone and content. When she was finished, the Second Wife, like the first, knelt in prayer beside the casket. The crowd cheered as she concluded her prayer, removed her clothing, and stood rigidly beside the casket. A lesser priest walked solemnly to her left side and presented the sacrificial dagger to her on a silk cushion. She took it in her right hand and presented it to the Archbishop, who arrived from her right.
The Archbishop blessed the Second Wife and placed one hand on her forehead. He tilted her head far back and requested her permission to proceed. She assented, and the crowd cheered loudly as the Archbishop deftly slit her taut white throat. The blood flooded out and splashed onto the body of the First Wife and the corpse of the Emperor. When the red torrent had ceased, the Archbishop used the dagger to completely sever the Second Wife's neck. He placed the head next to the Emperor on his left, while the remainder of the Second Wife's corpse was rushed to the kitchen.
Other speakers occupied the next half hour, but I paid little attention. I spent the interval chatting with the new emperor's brother. He was very kind and turned out to be a warm, sincere, and extremely well-balanced individual. Then came the dessert. The waitresses distributed a single cube of meat to each guest. Their several trays carried just enough one centimetre cubes for everyone. This meat, the flesh of the Second Wife was deep fried and tasted very nice. It was the only part of the meal that I had been allowed to eat. Meanwhile, busy workers arranged the bones of the Second Wife into a complete skeleton next to her husband in the wide casket.
The meal was done, and the emperor was about to reach his final rest. The solemn casket-closing ceremony impressed everyone, especially the First Wife. The Emperor would have everything he needed in the next world. The concubine skulls would be used as payment for passage through the Land of Sorrows, across the River of Death, out of the Realm of Suffering, and finally into the Kingdom of Eternal Happiness. The head of the Second Wife would form a bribe for the gatekeeper of the Eternal Palace, and her bones would distract the six-headed guard dogs. Thus, the Emperor would be admitted to rule alongside his predecessors in the Kingdom of Eternal Happiness. The First Wife, she whose flesh would never pass the lips of mortal men, would be his Empress and consort. All of this was explained to the audience by the Archbishop as the casket lid was sealed.
A dozen of the strongest soldiers in the Imperial Guard were employed in transporting the casket from the funeral chamber to the palace courtyard, where the funeral pyre had been constructed. After placing their burden atop the sturdy pile of gasoline-doused logs, the guards saluted their dead sovereign and marched away. The Archbishop made another statement of some sort that I did not hear clearly and used a torch to set the pyre ablaze. In a matter of minutes, the entire structure was converted into a raging bonfire. Either the First Wife showed great restraint and died silently or, perhaps more likely, the casket was well soundproofed.
Everyone watched in relative silence until the funeral pyre became a smouldering pile of charcoal. No trace of the casket or its contents was left to be seen. I retired sadly to my room and contemplated the slow death that awaited me.
Strangely enough, the new emperor's brother had taken quite a liking to me, and, with the new emperor's consent, we were married six months later. He proved to be a good husband, but I was an unfit wife. I was often depressed and frequently begged him to kill me. Even after the birth of our son, I persisted in my death wish. The horrible memories of my first imperial husband and my wonderful Leslie assaulted me.
When my son Richard was almost four years old, my husband finally surrendered to my pleading and secured permission from his brother to use the sacrifice chamber, as I desired above all things in the world.
We entered, and I immediately disrobed and attached the chains to my ankles. When I was suspended upside down as I had been several years earlier, I looked with a rapidly beating heart upon the scene. My husband's tear-filled eyes told me that he was allowing me to do this only because he really loved me. The loss would be a hard one for him, but he was willing to make the sacrifice for my sake. Although his position permitted him to maintain two wives and a concubine, my husband had insisted on marrying only me. Thus, I was leaving him with nothing. This depressed me.
I also saw the sad confused eyes of my young child. My husband had insisted on bringing him, which I felt was one of his dirtiest tricks. Even those eyes could not sway me, however. I preferred a quick honourable death to the slow painful death that life sentenced me to. I took the ceremonial knife eagerly and bade my loved ones farewell.
I closed my eyes and touched the dagger to my left wrist. But something made me take another look. The slight trickle of blood from my scratched wrist did not interest me as I viewed my family in a whole new light. I stared at my husband and, for the first time, regarded him as my chosen one rather than as an inadequate replacement for my former destiny. I saw in my son a new life full of potential and in need of my guidance and love. In short, I saw life as something desirable rather than as a prelude to death. This was such a shock to me that I dropped the dagger.
My son was good enough to catch it, which was fortunate since the penalty for damaging that sacred weapon was death. I quietly asked my husband to let me down and take me home. His expression changed immediately, and I could see the joy flowing from him.
That day my second life began. Sometimes I still feel as if I have betrayed the old emperor and Leslie, but now I also know that I owe it to my family to remain a human rather than a meal. I hope I made the right choice.