Posted by Sawney BEane on July 25, 2007 at 23:25:43:
The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #121
JEALOUSY
by Sawney Beane
15 February 2005
710 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: Another little vignette.
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In the delicious cool post-coital air, Anna stared down the length of her shapely body admiring the delicate sheen of her and her lover's commingled perspiration. She liked what she saw, but a niggling worry tugged at her mind.
"Doug?" she probed.
"Mmmm, what, dear," said the satisfied lover curled around her side, his arms embracing her chest and his legs wrapped around her thigh.
"Doug, do you ever think about eating me?"
"Of course I do, honey, every day."
"Really?"
"Yes, of course, I imagine it all the time." His voice had a faraway dreamy quality that Anna found a bit disconcerting.
"No, I mean have you thought about really eating me?"
"What do you mean?" His voice was becoming more alert as he became aware of the impending peril.
"I mean do you think you could really eat me sometime?"
He paused for a moment before replying. Obviously this was one of those dangerous feminine trick questions, and the only way to safely play it was to make a joke of it. "Sure, darling, I would love to eat you; when would you like me to?"
"Oh, I don't know; sometime."
"How about now?" he smiled viciously and began to move his head toward her invitingly spread thighs.
She smacked him away a bit unkindly. "You know that's not what I mean!"
Apparently the joke route had misfired. He looked into her eyes with obvious frustration, waiting for her to continue this absurd conversation.
"I mean would you really eat me...for dinner?"
"Why would you want me to do that?"
"I don't know; I just do."
"Why?"
"I want you to look at me the way you looked at her?"
"Who?"
"That girl today!" All of Anna's pent up emotions exploded in a flood of desperate words. "You never look at me the way you looked at her this afternoon. You were lying there with her with your arm around her shoulders so gentle, so loving. You never do that to me, and you were staring into those stupid blue eyes of hers with such tenderness, such kindness. You were looking at her like she was the only thing in the world you'd ever looked at. You know how you were looking at her!"
Doug stared dumbfounded at his sobbing wife, genuinely confused. "Darling," he said softly, "Did you notice what I was doing with my other hand?"
"Yes, yes, of course I did!" Anna turned away from him and sobbed into her pillow.
Doug decided to remind her anyway. "Honey, I was slicing her belly open with a big knife so the attendants could pull out her intestines and make her die!"
"But why did you have to look at her like that?"
"I was just trying to relax her; you need them to go peacefully, or the meat will be tough. You just have to do that so they go down easy."
"I know, honey," Anna said turning back around and staring into his concerned face. "I know, but I just wanted you to treat me like that."
"Anna, I can't believe you are jealous of a meat girl who is now wrapped in dozens of little packages in our freezer!"
"And in our bellies," Anna added with a grim smile while rubbing her own shapely abdomen.
"Yes, and in our bellies," Doug agreed. "You know she's just meat! I couldn't eat you; you mean so much more to me!"
"I know, honey, I'm sorry I'm being so silly."
"I'm sorry too, dear. If it makes you feel better, I won't do them myself anymore. I will let the butchers do it for us."
"No, no, Doug I know how much you like snuffing them yourself."
"I do, but I don't want you to feel this way."
"Thank you dear; you're so sweet."
Anna rolled over and eventually fell into a peaceful sleep secure in her husband's warm embrace, but the little twinge remained lodged in her mind in a place where she could not quite dislodge it. It was irrational, she knew, but every time she prepared dinner in the next several weeks, she felt a tiny feeling of bitterness toward the meat that was sizzling so wantonly on her stove or in her oven.