Posted by Sawney Beane on July 04, 2007 at 13:39:54:
The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #109
LAST DANCE
by Sawney Beane
21 March 2004
994 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 discussion of snuff and consensual gynophagia. If you find such things offensive, please steer clear; you have been warned.
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She was distracted by a stray thought that interfered with but did not entirely obliterate her pleasure. His invasive tongue made her whole body tingle and tremble, but the thought would not be dislodged.
Her voluptuous body relaxed slightly as he finished, but the anticipation of what would come next kept her totally alert. When he kissed her, she could taste her own juices. He used his hand to guide himself into her waiting wetness, but she could not overrule her mind any longer.
"Honey," she said in the faintest of whispers, almost a sigh. "Will you do something for me?"
He paused to answer her, "Yes, dear, anything you want."
"Will you tell me before our last time?"
"Why?"
"I want to be able to enjoy it as much as I can."
"I wish I could dear, but I can't."
She was disappointed. Usually he was very considerate of her needs and went out of his way to do anything he could for her. "Why not?"
"Because, dear, we've already started."
The realization of what this meant smashed through her brain almost simultaneously with the warm tingle that tore through her body as he finally entered her. The orgasm that soon rocked her perfect body was the most intense she had ever experienced. The odd mix of terror and joy that came from knowing that it was her last made it all the stronger.
When the last wave of mental fireworks finally began to drift away, she lay still for a long time, unable to speak, unable even to open her eyes. Her perfect body sprawled limply across the bed, utterly spent. He stayed near her, his warm body touching her side as he brushed wet strands of blonde hair away from her face and rubbed the soft skin of her belly and hips soothingly.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked finally, her voice still faint and weak.
"I was going to tell you afterwards."
"Why didn't you tell me last night?"
"I wanted you to have a good night's sleep. You'll be so much better today if you're well rested. I'm sorry if you're angry."
"I'm not angry," she said softly, "just surprised is all." She thought back to dinner the previous evening. He had prepared for her all of her favourite foods. She had greatly enjoyed the meal-her last meal apparently-but had not realized its importance.
She had known since the beginning of their eight months together that this day would eventually come. However, that did not prevent the sudden shortening of her future from causing a tense ball of fear in the pit of her stomach.
"When will it be?"
"Dinner tonight; it will be a late meal, but we still need to get started fairly soon; there's a lot we have to do to get you ready," he replied gently. The tone of his voice did not seem consistent with the direness of the conversation.
Her body trembled involuntarily. "Who is it?"
"A man named Jensen. He's very well connected, and I need his support for an important deal. He is bringing several members of his staff to dinner this evening, and I have to impress." There was a hint of apology in his voice.
"I hope I will be good enough."
"Oh, there's no doubt about that, darling, you're sure to be fantastic," he smiled warmly. "How are you feeling?"
"Terrified."
"That's natural," he replied, "Are you sure you want to go though with it?"
"Yes, I'll do it; I'm just afraid."
"I can go down to the store if you want; I don't want you to go to the oven before you're ready."
She thought about this. Wouldn't it be nice to stay with him in his beautiful large house for a few months more and enjoy his loving kindness? Wouldn't it be great not to have to face the stainless steel monster in the kitchen? Wouldn't it be nice to let someone else take her place?
"What can you get at the store?"
"A girl, certainly none as good as you, but I'll hire a girl for this feast if you're not ready."
"This isn't the type of dinner you can get away with serving a grocery girl," she remarked. It was half question, half assertion.
"True, it calls for the very best cuisine, but I can get by if I have to. Don't you worry about it."
"No, you must serve only me tonight." She knew she couldn't let him down after all he had done for her, but there was another reason. She had come to him for a reason. She had come to fulfil her lifelong dream. She had always wanted to give herself over entirely in this way, and the anticipation of finally realizing her fantasy made every nerve in her body tingle. It was terrible and final, but turning away from her most cherished desire would only leave her with a life of regret. She had to face the oven, and today was her day.
He smiled wolfishly, obviously pleased by her commitment. "You'll be perfect."
She forced herself to smile back and sat up, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder. She tried to insert confidence and decisiveness into her voice, but the thought of her skull soon joining the six that already graced his mantelpiece sent a quiver through her body and voice. "We might as well get started; where do we begin?" But she knew the answer and was already walking toward the large bathroom.
Even before she reached the bathroom, the little mental explosions started coming back to her brain as she walked and thought about all she would experience in the scant few hours she had left. He had made love to her for the last time, but she knew she had certainly not yet had her last orgasm.