Posted by Sawney Beane on October 17, 2006 at 22:45:37:
The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #87
A KING'S RANSOM
by Sawney Beane
10 February 2002
1,937 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 semi and non-consensual gore, snuff, gynophagia, and androphagia. If you find such things offensive, please steer clear; you have been warned.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Bit silly really, but they can't all be masterpieces.
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My hell began with five nude women. It wasn't the women themselves but more what they and I knew would eventually happen to them...and me.
I had no one to blame but myself, of course. Not even my cousin was as much to blame as I was for the imminent tragedy. He and I had twenty years earlier each inherited half of the kingdom of our mutual grandfather. Each of us believed that we were entitled to more or better parts of it than we got, so we'd been in a perpetual state of war ever since. We never got along even when we were children.
All of that is fine and natural. The really perverted thing came about a few years later when I introduced an abhorrent aberration into our societies. It was impulse at the time, but I did it, and now I have to pay for it.
It happened that we had captured one of my cousin's best young generals. In a moment of inexcusable exuberance, I used my ceremonial dagger to rip out his heart and eat it in open court. He, of course, slumped to the ground in a satisfying dead heap, and I, enemy blood dripping down my chin decreed that the rest of him be consumed by my subjects. The shocked courtiers and soldiers around me of course obeyed and feasted upon the body of my foe.
The thing is, they enjoyed it almost as much as I did. It was inevitable that it would happen again. Within a few months, my cousin's subjects were a frequent centrepiece for our biggest banquets. Prisoners of war found their way onto our tables, and soon raiding parties began to cross the borders to capture civilians as well. I especially liked it when the raiders captured a carriage full of my cousin's concubines. Things that I liked tended to happen frequently in my kingdom.
I single-handedly turned my kingdom into a pack of bloodthirsty cannibals with myself as the prime offender. It was only a matter of time before my cousin reciprocated, and soon his kingdom bore an uncanny resemblance to my own. The only difference was that it was my subjects on his dinner tables rather than his.
And after creating this horrific world and enjoying it for nearly a dozen years, I had the misfortune of being captured by my cousin's agents. It was in the prison tower adjoining the central square of my cousin's capital that I met the five nude women who would accompany me into hell.
They were collectively and individually a very pleasing sight. I would have savoured their beauty unreservedly had our mutual tragedy not clouded my thoughts. They were the occupants of a carriage captured alongside my own. The youngest was a nineteen-year-old blonde with excellently proportioned breasts and a slender waist. Her piercing blue eyes betrayed the terror within her frail young virgin body. She had only recently moved over from the children's trailer. With the poor course the war was taking, I had not had an opportunity to share a bed with her. The other four were all my experienced concubines ranging in age from twenty to twenty-seven. Some of my favourites were there with me.
They stood in line dutifully withstanding the humiliation of being exposed to the common soldiers who guarded us as well as to my cousin's ministers there to begin our torment.
"Welcome to our kingdom," said a small man in a ridiculously ornate outfit. "We hope your stay will be a pleasant one." He added a sneer to this statement that showed his utter disdain for me. I smiled pleasantly and fought the urge to struggle with the cords that tied my wrists behind my back.
One of the soldiers came over unbidden and untied me. The small vile minister began a speech that gave him great pleasure. "Your Majesty, we have big plans for you this afternoon, but first I'm sure you will want to enjoy one last meal before we begin. Choose." He motioned to the line of nude women.
I looked at the five sets of eyes, each lighting up with silent pleading. Each of my women wanted to be my last meal. Of course, none of them wanted to be eaten. My people aren't like that. I've never consumed my own citizens. But they, like me, knew that of the fates that were about to befall them, this was most likely the most favourable. In any case, they, like myself, knew they would not survive the torments my cousin's vengeful minions had in store for them.
I chose the nineteen-year-old blonde for a very specific reason. She was the most innocent of our group, and I wanted to spare her any further pain. The others had all feasted on our enemies, but she had not. We had at least maintained our civility to the point of not allowing children at the cannibal feast, and we'd had precious few prisoners available since she'd come of age.
The soldiers dragged her roughly out of line and led her through a small door and into an adjoining room. I followed her into the bedroom, and the soldiers left us alone. She was trembling visibly, but she reclined on the bed without saying a word and smiled feebly up at me.
I joined her in the bed and looked deeply into her eyes. "My dear, I'm sorry for causing this to happen to you. We will both die today, but before we do. We will win one final victory."
She looked puzzled, but I continued, "You will not die a virgin." An almost joyful smile crossed her tear-stained face. I knew that was an encouraging thing to say to her, and it was more than an assurance that we would have intercourse. You see, in my kingdom, there is a thing called Royal Privilege, which allows me to have sex with any subject that I choose to. I have taken advantage of this quite lavishly and have bedded nearly all of the attractive young females in the kingdom. In order to avoid cuckolding the vast majority of my advisors and generals, however, sex under Royal Privilege does not count, legally speaking. Therefore, my young doomed concubine could have sex with me and retain her virginity under most circumstances. But by declaring that our sex would relieve her of her virginity, I had told her that our intercourse was meaningful to me and had paid her a high compliment. Sometimes semantics are everything.
"Our enemies plan to roast you for a banquet. I will be invited to eat there with my cousin. It will be my last meal, and a long painful humiliation for you. They will tie you to a spit and roast you alive. But I won't let them do that. You and I will die on this bed, and that will be our final victory." She accepted that this was, indeed, a victory and put her arms around my neck in a trusting gesture.
We made love. I enjoyed it despite my worries. She made a lot of half-painful sounds, but the half-smile remained on her face. When it was finally done, she relaxed noticeably, and I, still inside her, brought my mouth down to her slender white throat and drove my teeth into the left side of her neck. She yelped in surprise and pain, but she quickly regained her composure and did not struggle as I ended her short life.
I had to fight back the nausea that always overtakes me when I swallow a lot of blood. I drank her life, and I became a bit frenzied with the act. I knew I was in my final moments myself, so it was a kind of desperation, but it was also sexual.
She trembled and the faint heart stopped beating beneath her breast. I released her neck, and the blood flowed over the bed. Then I took my last meal. I ripped pieces of her face and gulped the raw flesh with demonic abandon. With her beautiful face a complete loss, I moved down and attacked her breasts, sucking in mouthfuls of the soft flesh. Then I ripped hunks from her waist and belly, slurped the mixture of blood and semen I had created in her vagina, took bites from her taut thighs and calves. I tore off toes and fingers and generally did my best to destroy everything that she had been.
It was only partially irrational. I wanted to prevent my enemies from taking her from me. I wanted to destroy her rather than give her up. OK, it was irrational, but I knew my cousin would be furious. No matter; I was planning to be dead.
I stopped briefly to look at the bloody barely recognizable mess I had made of this innocent creature. She was better off than the rest of us. Then I embarked on the weakest part of my plan. I tore her belly open with my teeth and scooped entrails out of her. Then I shoved my head into her open womb and tried to drown myself in this feminine ruin.
Sadly, it was more symbolic than effective. The guards came in eventually and removed me from the girl's remains. They cleaned me up and kicked the shit out of me for my stupidity and rebelliousness.
I was returned to the main room of the tower much more tired and much less regal. The small minister was hopping mad. "You apparently have a fondness for killing your concubines!" he shouted. "Now you will kill the rest of them." He dragged me over to the oldest of the four survivors. The twenty-seven year old brunette closed her eyes and tilted her head back in preparation for death. She was one of my favourites. The minister handed me a dagger and ordered me to execute her. I refused.
"Very well," he bellowed. "She will regret your stubbornness."
The guards dragged her from the room, and I was dragged to the window overlooking the city square. Soon she appeared with the guards in the square below, and her agonies began. They toyed with her viciously for about an hour before chaining her limbs to four warhorses and ripping her arms and legs from their sockets. She died finally, and I have never been so sad as I was as I was forced to watch this horror.
The other three watched as well, and all were now begging me to kill them. I had little reason for pride, so I numbly cut their three lovely throats one after another. The first had not yet bled to death before the third had fallen to the floor. I watched the three beauties die and, although I envied them, I knew I did not deserve their fate.
They were dragged off, leaving a trail of blood across the carpet. Undoubtedly, they would be someone's feast. Not mine, however, as I'd had my last meal.
What could I say to protest my fate? Nothing. It was entirely just. The five women, of course, did not deserve their horror, but I was different. Mine was the only deserved torment that day.
The guards dragged me out of the room, and I knew that I would live for a long time, and every minute would be the most intensely painful of my life. Furthermore, I knew that whatever they could think to do to me would pale in comparison to the eternity I would suffer in Hell when they finally let me go to my just reward.