Posted by Sawney Beane on October 01, 2006 at 00:59:25:
The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #77
MANNA FROM HEAVEN
by Sawney Beane
3 September 2000
(Idea October 1999)
1,909 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 necrophilia and cannibalism concerning an accidentally discovered female corpse. If you find such things offensive (as you no doubt should), please steer clear; you have been warned.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: A quickie that took almost a year to get down on paper. It didn't come out quite as neatly as I had imagined it, but I like it, even if it is a little bit goofy.
---------------------------------
I have a story to tell. It really happened to me about five years ago. It's why I believe in God. I'll share it with you, but please don't tell anyone or I may be in serious trouble, because what I did I don't think is strictly legal.
I didn't plan any of it. I was just jogging. I have this cabin out in the woods, and there are jogging trails that lead right up to the back of it. Not many people use them. Some days I can run the whole loop and never meet another person. So this day was an autumn day like any other.
Everything was going along routinely until I spotted a running shoe at the side of the path about a mile from my house. It was a bright white just out of the box clean running shoe, so it showed up well against the foliage. But when I got closer, I saw that there was someone wearing that shoe and another one just like it.
I stopped to inspect this unfortunate person, pulling away the bushes in the area to find that it was a woman, and oh what a woman. She was the most fantastically beautiful creature I had ever seen. She had those brand new running shoes and short white tube socks on her feet. Her legs were amazing, slender and tanned golden brown. Her red silk jogging shorts covered just enough to be decent. Then there was her bare belly, the same colour as her legs and perfectly slim and flawless. She had a white cut-off tank top covering her chest and a sports bra supporting some spectacular breasts. Gorgeous arms, shoulders, and neck were topped by a peaceful expression on her angelic face, which was framed by long blonde hair.
The first odd thing I noticed about this woman, she couldn't have been more than twenty or twenty-two, was that I didn't recognize her. As I mentioned, those trails were fairly sparsely travelled, and I knew just about everyone who ever used them. This was a woman I would have remembered.
The second odd thing was that she should choose to sleep here at the side of the path under a tree. But soon I realized that she wasn't asleep at all. She was dead. She was still warm but definitely dead. There was no breath, no heartbeat, nothing. No wounds on her perfect body, so she hadn't been murdered here. She was just dead. Perhaps a heart attack while running, but she was so young. Besides, she would have had to have fallen on her back under the bushes rather than on top of them. I couldn't figure out how she could have arrived here naturally.
The third and final odd thing was that she was completely clean, spotlessly shiny clean. Her body was as if fresh out of the shower, and there was not a mark on her clothing, not even sweat. So how could she have been jogging along here and died suddenly of a heart attack?
That's when I realized that she had been placed there for me. It was my own private miracle. I was meant to find her; there was hardly anyone else that could have. She was a gift. It was obvious, really.
She was a dream come true for me, although I wasn't initially sure what to do with her. I should explain that I don't fantasize about dead girls. I'm not into necrophilia or anything. But if you knew about my love life, you would know that I have never had the chance to really attract a decent woman at all, let alone someone as unearthly as my gift girl. So I guess I was willing to take my gorgeous women in whatever form they came. After all, had she been alive, I could never in all likelihood have coaxed her back to my home.
So I picked her up and draped her across my shoulder. She was really quite light, perhaps a hundred pounds at most. Then I walked back to my cabin. As I said, it was about a mile, but that girl's hip against my cheek made the trip extremely enjoyable. I didn't really know what I would have done had I met someone on the trail. The risk was small since, as I said, few people used my trail, and it was quite early in the morning. Besides, if God had given me this gift, would he let me be intercepted by the authorities on my way home?
Once I was home, I propped her up in a chair and made breakfast. I served her some too, but she didn't seem to feel like eating. I had a bit of inspiration from a music video I had seen once, so I put on some music and we danced in my living room. However, I soon found that she wasn't much good at dancing, so we gave it up.
So there I was on the floor of my living room with my gift and no idea what to do with her. There wasn't much else to be done except take her clothes off, was there? So I did, very carefully and politely. She didn't object. In fact, from the peaceful smile on her face, I gathered that she liked it.
First I removed her shoes and socks to reveal some of the best feet I've ever seen, cute and delicate. Then I slipped off the tank top and then the bra to reveal her stunning chest. Then I slid the shorts down her legs and then removed her panties. Now nude, she was even more amazing than she had been clothed. Her skin was completely flawless, and the figure was pure heaven. As you can see, I'm not much at describing the indescribable, but her perfection alone was a sign of divine origin.
So there she was completely nude on my living room floor. I ran my hands up and down her fabulous body until I made the inevitable decision. As I said, I wasn't into necrophilia, but she was still mostly warm and there didn't seem much else to do. Anyway, opportunities like this didn't come along very often for me, so I had to take advantage of any invitation I could get from any woman, dead or alive.
OK, so I did it. I carried her to the bedroom and made love to this beauty. She didn't mind. In fact, I think the smile on her face broadened slightly. Maybe that's as close to an orgasm as you can hope for from a dead girl. But when it came right down to it, she wasn't all that great in bed. Not that I was an old pro, but she was rather unresponsive, not to mention uncomfortably dry. Maybe I wasn't her type.
So I carried her back to the living room and laid her out on the sofa. That's when I had a terrible realization. Then was when it occurred to me that my lovely would not always be as gorgeous as she was now. Beauty is an evanescent thing. A gorgeous girl of twenty all too soon becomes a mature woman of thirty and then an aging woman of forty. By fifty, very few traces of her former glory are likely to remain. This process is all the more accelerated if the woman in question happens to be dead.
I knew that she would not be my beautiful gift, probably even in a day or so. Already she was almost completely cooled to room temperature. The nasty thing is, there's not a way in the world to preserve this beauty, so I had to think of alternatives.
So I realized my error in choosing our previous activities. In eating and dancing and sexual intercourse, it helps if your partner is animated. I suppose I knew these things deep down, but it hadn't occurred to me in quite those terms. The beautiful gift I had in my house was not meant to be a woman at all but something very different. My problem was that I was treating a dead bit of flesh as a girlfriend.
But there's only one thing to do with dead flesh. Eat it. Now keep in mind, a cannibalistic thought had never previously graced my brain. It wasn't my thing so to speak. But something about this dead beauty made my stomach growl. In a way, it seemed a shame to destroy something so perfect in this way, but the alternative was to watch her rot, so I became resolute. Anyway, if I ate this gorgeous meat, I would always have it with me in the only way possible for me to keep her. Surely this was what God had intended for me to do with her.
It took me about three hours to convert my gorgeous corpse into a pile of gorgeous steaks. I wrapped each meal-sized piece up in plastic and paper and stored it in the freezer. I was careful not to waste a single scrap of her body, since that would be a sin. In all, it was an impressive yield.
By the way, along the way I had the opportunity to inspect her intestines and bowels. They were completely empty, still further proof that she had not arrived by natural means.
The original manna God sent from heaven was impossible to store, but then the Israelites didn't have freezers. So in she went every last bit except for one thick steak carved from her upper thigh. That was to be my inaugural dinner.
I seasoned the meat and tenderised it and then broiled it in the oven until it was perfectly done to my liking. I tasted one silky bite and my brain suddenly experienced a brilliant flash of beauty that rivalled the dead woman herself. Every bite was better than the last, and I couldn't believe that she could taste as great as she looked.
In all, the parts in the freezer lasted for over a year. I didn't eat her every day, rather choosing to ration her out for as long as I could bear.
Her bones I dried in the oven and then crushed to powder with a hammer. The bone dust I sprinkled on the garden. The flowers that year were more beautiful than ever before.
When she was done, I experienced a deep feeling that I had done God's will and would be blessed for it. This was further proof of my love's divine origin.
And I have been blessed. Ever since that day I have been enormously successful with women. It's difficult to be intimidated by someone when you know how they would taste. Besides that, having a perfect female as a part of me made me understand women and their desires all the better. Some are bothered by my religiousness. However, that's because they don't know the depth of my experience, and of course I can't tell them. But most respect my deep faith and reward me for it in bed.
So that's my story. I'm not ashamed of it. Actually, I feel rather honoured to have received such a wonderful gift. However, I don't talk about it very much for obvious reasons. So you're one of the privileged few to hear my tale. I hope it will benefit you in some way. God be with you.