Posted by Sawney Beane on September 10, 2006 at 12:09:07:
The Collected Works of Sawney Beane: Volume #63
PERSPECTIVE
by Sawney Beane
26 - 28 September 1998
4,145 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 non-consensual snuff and cannibalism. If you find such things offensive, please steer clear; you have been warned.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This began as two story ideas I had: holding and squeezing an unconscious girl's thigh and waking up with your body marked up for butchering into the various steaks ala certain Pooka pictures. These two images evolved into views of parts of the same series of events from different points of view. Thus, it became a story about an event see from two different perspectives. And additional perspectives evolved from there.
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JIM'S PERSPECTIVE
Jim loved nothing more than the sight of an unconscious woman. He lifted Jane's limp body onto his lap and fondled her soft thigh. This was the most heavenly of flesh. He tore her silk running shorts to pieces and then ripped through the pink panties beneath. He ran his coarse fingers through her blonde pubic hair and savoured the perks of his unusual job. Then he tore off Jane's T-shirt and was pleased to find that she had chosen not to constrain her perfect breasts in a bra. She was nude and unconscious; what more could a man want? Well, he could fuck her, but it would mean the end of him, so he resisted the powerful urge.
Instead, he carried her limp young body over to the suitcase in which he had just been concealing her roommate Linda when Jane had had the misfortune of returning home at the wrong time. Next door, Sarah Singer was having the luckiest day of her life, but she would never know it.
Jim was the sole supplier of the Club's female playthings. Each year there was a banquet which required the services of five young beauties, and it was Jim's job to go out and collect them just before the big party. He already had three of San Francisco's cutest coeds in the trunk of his car. He had been just about finished collecting a sumptuous brunette named Linda Harman in her apartment when her equally appealing roommate had surprised him by returning early from her jogging. He had been surprised but not half so surprised as she was when he had pressed the chloroform soaked cloth to her face. In this way, he had come to enjoy his moment of bliss with the unconscious political science major. Since Jane certainly met the criteria the Club specified, he would come away from this apartment building with twice the catch he had expected. Pretty redheaded Sarah Singer, a music major in the next building, was the fifth girl on his list, but her services would no longer be required. By the time the Club would be ready to hold its next party the following year, it would have moved to an entirely different city, so it was unlikely that he would ever have to come and see her again.
Jim carried two large suitcases out of the building and loaded them into the car. Then he drove to the Club's temporary location and turned over his five lovely ladies and collected his hefty reward.
Jim had only once been able to taste the girls he supplied. For one thing, he was far from wealthy. Even with his generous finder's fees, the meat he delivered was too costly for him. However, a generous chef had on one occasion allowed him to have a bite. He had eagerly awaited the experience but once the small morsel of girl meat had touched his tongue, he had found himself fighting the revulsion of knowing that this had once been part of a beautiful girl. He could barely stomach the idea of eating girls. It made him feel far too responsible for her death. Still, it was a good living, and what did he care if other people found it exciting to eat female university students? He felt that his hands were more or less clean so long as he didn't participate in the executions.
His only regret was that he was strictly prohibited from sexual relations with the girls that would become the Club's meat. It was a silly rule, but Jim was not allowed to date the women he worked with. He had to pick up girls when he wasn't working for that. Nonetheless, his methods were much the same on and off duty. None of the people in the Club really liked Jim, but he thought it horribly hypocritical for a group of millionaire cannibals to look down upon a serial rapist. Anyway, he left the Club's order for the year and went home.
JANE'S PERSPECTIVE
When Jane Sullivan woke up, the first thing she noticed was the splitting headache. The second thing she noticed was the sound of faint sobbing. Through her groggy haze, she noticed that she was not wearing any clothes. This wasn't terribly surprising since she always slept in the nude, but she didn't seem to remember going to bed.
She tried to sit up but found it impossible. After a few tries she decided to work on that mystery at a later time. In the midst of her struggles her hand brushed across her own pubic hair, but then she noticed something very unusual: she didn't have any pubic hair. Further investigation revealed that her pubic region had been shaved as smooth as a baby's bottom. She rubbed her hands over as much of her body as she could conveniently reach and discovered that the only hair on her body was that on the top of her blonde head. Now she was really confused. She must have been very drunk to shave her whole body, but then how could she have done such a perfect job? Anyway, she didn't remember drinking anything the previous night. All she remembered was going out to jog.
Then she opened her eyes warily and noticed that her body was criss-crossed with thick black lines made with a wide-tipped permanent marker. This was surely unnatural, but it reminded her vaguely of something she had seen once. She gradually recalled the diagram of a cow drawn from a butcher's perspective with each of the cuts of beef outlined in the body of the animal. She was suddenly very awake and terrified.
She realized that she was tied to a cot in a room containing four other cots with girls about her same age and predicament tied to them. A moment later she recognized her roommate Linda on the cot farthest from her. The brunette looked exactly like the cow she remembered, and Jane was not optimistic about the reasons for the five girls being in such a place.
A man in a chef's hat arrived shortly to release Jane and the other girls from their bondage, but they were kept under control by means of leather collars and leashes. Several cruel yanks was enough to induce most of the hapless girls out the door and onto the adjoining outdoor stage. The five captives were placed in a line before a crowd of several dozen men and more than a few women. Everyone struggled for a good view of the five girls. Jane stood in the middle of the line and felt more exposed than ever in her life. She was unable to cover herself as these horrible strangers ogled her most private parts, and the ominous black lines sent her mind reeling.
Over the next fifteen minutes, little was said, but the men on the stage were obviously doing some sort of product demonstration for the assembled crowd, and Jane and her comrades were the product. They were poked and prodded in every imaginable way, and every once in a while someone would point out an especially attractive breast or thigh. The humiliation was excruciating for Jane.
Then it got several times worse. A man with a clipboard stood next to each girl, while the crowd lined up and slowly filed past the assembled waifs. Each guest was handed a black marker and proceeded to write a number on particular parts of the unfortunate girls. The first man by, a youngish fellow in an expensive suit, wrote the number "36" on Jane's left breast. The second man, a businessman in his late forties, wrote the number "12" on Jane's right shoulder. The third person by was a woman in a long blue evening gown who claimed Jane's right ribs with the number "5". Jane tried to struggle but failed miserably, and little by little each of the marked sections of her body was claimed with a number. Meanwhile, the man next to her with the clipboard dutifully wrote down to whom each of her parts was to be distributed.
As this was going on, Jane came to realize that each person in line was making three selections. Each man and woman wrote a number on some part of one of the two girls to Jane's left, Linda and a black girl with very short hair and a thin muscular body. Then each guest claimed part of either Jane or the buxom brunette to her immediate right. Finally, each guest made their mark on some part of the body of the blonde to Jane's far right. Jane noticed that this girl had been marked into roughly twice as many portions as each of the other four girls had been. Beyond this, Jane was entirely confused by the proceedings, but she knew that it didn't look good for the five young ladies.
Then, a curtain behind the stage opened to reveal the horrors beyond. Jane turned and looked as all five girls simultaneously screamed in terror. Just behind the stage was a row of industrial-sized gas grills, each of them ablaze and ready for meat. Twenty feet further back, fires roared in two roasting pits. Y-shaped iron brackets at each end unmistakably waited for spits, and there was little doubt what kind of meat would be roasted on those spits.
The blonde, the black girl, and Linda were led to one side of the stage and cowered in fear as everyone focused their deadly attention on Jane and the brunette. Several men rolled a wheeled table onto the stage and locked it in place just in front of the two unfortunate women. Jane watched with wide eyes as three men bodily lifted the vivacious brunette onto the table and pinned her down on her back. The brunette kicked and screamed, but no one came to her rescue. Meanwhile, her doom inched forward as two men carried a two-inch diameter steel roasting spit toward her. They rested the sharpened tip inches from her genitals as the other men pulled her legs apart and exposed her helpless body to the cold metal.
Jane could not bear to look but could not make herself turn away as several of the men lined the spit up with the woman's writhing body. Their expertise caused the crowd to cheer wildly, or maybe it was the spectre of death that whipped them into a frenzy. The brunette stopped her screaming for a split second, and her eyes widened in frozen horror as if the full magnitude of her situation had just hit her. The men had inserted the tip of the spit several inches into her vagina and were lining up to give it a disastrous push. The brunette resumed her howling, but it was cut short as steel ripped through her lungs. Then men pushed again, and the shining blood-covered tip emerged from the girl's mute mouth. She stared in hopeless misery or perhaps death as the crowd celebrated, intoxicated by the moment.
Jane watched the workers tie the girl to her murder weapon and carry her to one of the firepits. Moments later, the busty brunette was rotating over the flames, and several women were basting her body in barbecue sauce. Jane felt as if time had stopped. She stood alone in the centre of the stage. Then blood-spattered table was right in front of her, and the men were bringing another spit toward the stage. She felt crushed under an enormous weight. She knew there would be no escape, knew that she would soon be roasting on a spit next to the brunette. She knew that her body would become golden brown and that all of these people would feast upon it. She knew that her entire destiny was to be meat, but that didn't mean she had to like it.
Time resumed, and the men came to her. She closed her eyes and felt the world spin as she was lifted and dropped forcefully on her back on the table. Jane looked at the sky in front of her, but she did not see. She was aware of the increasing noise of the crowd, of rough hands on her thighs pulling her legs painfully far apart. The pressure of her destiny weighed on her chest until she had difficulty breathing.
Then time stopped again for Jane. She was frozen at the moment the spit touched her vagina. She felt the cool metal on her most intimate surface and at the same time felt the coldness of the grave. Reality flowed through her. She thought about the fact that there would never be a cold grave for her, rather an inferno.
Jane's moment of clarity ended as something ripped through her womb and entrails. The deadly tip of the spit was floating around in her abdomen, sickeningly displacing her organs. Then it moved in another sharp spurt. Now it was at the base of her neck, somehow having missed her heart but not her lung. She felt as if she would suffocate as blood replaced the life-giving air. Someone's hand pushed her forehead down, and the spit moved up her throat. She felt the disgusting taste of blood, steel, and stomach acid, and the end of the spike emerged from her mouth in lieu of a scream. She was silent and drowning, and everything seemed blurry.
Jane vaguely felt her impaled body being carried along on the shoulders of men. She could already feel the heat of the firepit, and it grew more and more intense as she was dragged relentlessly on. Then she felt herself spin, and her body jerked as the spit was dropped onto its brackets. The last sensation she felt was of intense heat searing every inch of her skin. She felt as if she were buried within the fire rather than hanging three feet above it. Then consciousness evaporated, and her perspective faded away.
WILLIAM'S PERSPECTIVE
William watched and cheered as the blonde was placed over the fire with the busty brunette. This girl was one of the most beautiful he had seen, and he was happy that he had been able to claim a choice piece of her right shoulder. He couldn't wait for that delicious entree. But now that the main course had been put on to roast, it was time to think about appetizers.
William Montgomery was a very successful businessman in his late forties. Aside from his thinning hair, he was profoundly satisfied with every aspect of his life. His wife and three children, who failed to notice his annual attendance at Club festivities amongst his many business trips, were the pride of his life. But his Club membership was also a very important part if his existence. He didn't know how he would survive without it. True, it was profoundly expensive to belong to the Club, but the benefits were enormous. Where else could you get to taste three different fabulous young vixens every year?
He'd looked on as this year's two main courses were impaled and put on to roast, and he had joined the rest of the Club members in cheering the murders on with an almost uncontrollable frenzy. He barely thought about the fact that the Club's activities had their cost in human lives. After all, the five girls taken each year were not made to suffer long, and how important could their lives be? They were all young university-age girls. It wasn't as if there was any shortage of such women. William crowded closer to get a better look as the two appetizers were carved.
The Club employees were leading the second brunette and the negro girl back to centre stage. William had place his membership number "12" on the brunette's left ankle; he was never very fond of inter-racial dining. In any case, it was clear that the negro girl was going to be taken apart first. William cheered as the chopping block was placed in front of her and as she was forced to kneel before it with her lithe dark neck on the rough wood. She cried and howled the whole time until the headsman dropped his weapon on her and severed her head in one blow. Then William and the other Club members frolicked as the butchers tossed the negro's body onto the table and divided it into its constituent steaks in less than ten minutes. Less than fifteen minutes after her execution, the negro girl's body was completely disassembled and roasting on half of the gas grills. A flock of chefs attended to her bit by bit to assure that no one had to eat burnt girl meat.
William felt tears come to his eyes as he watched the delicious-looking brunette being forced to her knees before the chopping block. He suddenly noticed a terrifying resemblance between the girl on stage and his oldest daughter, who had just turned seventeen. His pleasure-seeking self struggled to reconcile itself with his devoted father self and to determine the difference between the girls he ate and the girls he loved. It was a very new problem for him, it having heretofore been no difficulty for him to separate the two in his mind. He finally concluded that the difference between these girls and his daughter was that the latter had not been captured by the Club. He would simply have to take precautions that she be difficult to apprehend. In any case, such considerations need not spoil his dinner.
LINDA'S PERSPECTIVE
Linda had just finished watching three murders. She had first stared in horror as two girls about her age were impaled and put on to roast over roaring flames. She could still see them cooking just a few dozen feet behind the stage. It didn't help that one of those unfortunate women had been her best friend and roommate Jane. After that, she had been shocked to watch a perfectly-innocent looking young black girl beheaded and completely dismantled in the space of fifteen minutes. Linda could see the various parts of the poor girl's body sizzling over the grills just behind the stage. Now things were getting much worse. Linda's own neck was now the one on the chopping block.
A religious girl, Linda tried to remember a few prayers, but something seemed very inconsistent with her beliefs in all of these proceedings. Still, she tried to keep the faith for just a few more minutes. The man raised the axe behind her, and she prayed faster.
She barely felt it at all. She heard the noise of the axe embedding itself in the wooden block. How could she not? It was deafening. Then she began to fall, but it was only her head that fell. Her body was being hoisted onto the table. She rolled around and was able to see the first few chops of the butchers' cleavers as her body was hacked to pieces. Then she could no longer see, and only the chopping sounds reached her ears. Then there was nothing at all.
JACQUELINE'S PERSPECTIVE
Club get togethers were always a blast. Everyone settled down somewhat after the four girls had been dispatched. Some of the members had sex or at least drinks. Since the Club was about eighty percent male, it was a great disappointment to many men that one of the best looking female members chose to remain aloof. She had no intention of damaging her blue evening gown and very little interest in the vast majority of Club men, who were by and large aging millionaires. Jackie had enough money that she didn't need to humour them any longer.
Eventually the appetizers were ready, and Jacqueline was served a steaming portion of the delightful black girl's thigh. She chewed thoughtfully at every bite and tried to image the last thoughts of her meal. Some of the Club's members were truly sadistic, while most were merely selfish and unthinking. Jackie was one of the sadistic ones. She liked the ideas of pain and death and delighted in the tortured last few minutes of life given the Club's victims. She only wished the Club directors would drag it out a bit more. That's why she loved dessert the most. Jackie polished off the last bite of her appetizer and awaited the ribs she had ordered for her main course.
ROGER'S PERSPECTIVE
Roger was one of the youngest members of the Club. He had attended the last three feasts and was only twenty-nine years old. His father had left him more money than most people could imagine and had also been a member of the Club. Roger and his father had loved nothing more than discussing the Club's exploits ever since Roger had revealed his innermost desires to his father near the end of his university years. Roger's father had revelled in the fact that his son was a kindred spirit. But Roger just liked girls.
It was four hours after the executions before the main course was ready. Roger had enjoyed the appetizer brunette's rump roast, but he was eager for his entree. He held his breath as the steaming plate of meat was placed before him. It was with relish that he placed the first bite of the gorgeous blonde's left breast on his tongue. Without a doubt, it was the best meal he had ever enjoyed. He saved the nipple for last and savoured every bite. Yes, it was great to be wealthy.
STEPHANIE'S PERSPECTIVE
Stephanie was as confused as she was terrified. She had watched four hours earlier as four girls had been cruelly butchered before her eyes while the evil crowd jumped for joy. She had seen the two girls dismantled and consumed as appetizers. Now she was watching everyone eating the remains of the two girls who had been impaled and roasted over the firepits. Meanwhile, she herself had remained chained to the centre of the stage left alone and unable to escape. Her howls had long since subsided to weak moans and sobs, but she knew that her body had been marked and claimed just as the others' had been. So there must be something horrible in store for her. She didn't have to wait much longer.
As soon as everyone had finished their dinner, the crowd began to chant "dessert, dessert!" Stephanie knew that she was now in trouble. A man approached her with a razor sharp knife and unceremoniously sliced off her left breast. He then cut it in two and handed it to another man with a clipboard. The latter called out two numbers, and two men stepped forward to claim their portions. They returned with their treasures to their seats. Stephanie tried to watch them despite her pain and fear, and she was revolted to watch one of them biting the bisected nipple from his dessert portion and munching it happily in small bites. The other man was likewise eating her flesh but had started at the other end. Her other breast was removed before she could struggle too much and was passed out to two other men.
After that, Stephanie's life just got worse and worse. The man with the knife proceeded to cut bits from her legs, shoulders, arms, and arse. Soon they were attacking her genitals. She couldn't believe that these people were eating her body raw while she still lived to watch them. She didn't last long, but the minutes seemed to drag on and on. It was something of a relief when her blood finally drained out enough to cause her death.
NICKOLAUS' PERSPECTIVE
Nickolaus Stephans, president of the Club, looked out over the secret location of the Club's latest feast. He was already thinking about what city to hold the next get together as he stared out over the deserted tables and chairs. The cold grills and firepits barely suggested the splendour that had centred around them just a few short hours earlier. The stage still had bits of blood on it, and there were bone fragments everywhere that would have to be disposed of somehow, but the employees would clean everything up very well.
Nick allowed himself to feel sorry for the five unfortunate young ladies who had involuntarily attended the party. They were just too beautiful for their own good and at the wrong place at the wrong time. It really was a shame, but that is the way life is. Survival of the fittest and all of that. He put them out of his mind after a few minutes and began to mentally plan the next feast. He knew that with some effort, next year's extravaganza could be made even more pleasurable than this one. After all, there was always room for improvement and always more girls to ask Jim to invite.