by Chewy (2000)
"I want to open a restaurant.'
The severely dressed loan officer looked up at the man seating himself in front of her desk. She had to admit he was handsome, in a slightly sinister way. He was big, and ruggedly built with a face like some movie action hero. Normally such men weren't her type, preferring her males to be wimpy and easily dominated. Nevertheless, there was something about this guy that seemed fascinating. It was more than his superbly cut business suit and intriguing looks. It was the way he carried himself, a certain careless ease, as if he were a man pursuing and winning his life's dream.
"Ahem, so I was told by the branch manager. She was quite flustered and wouldn't explain just what kind of restaurant you want to start' the banker answered primly. She shuffled some papers around on her desk, as if to signal his relative unimportance. She looked back up at him, somewhat perturbed that he sat there with a relaxed smile on his face, patiently waiting for her to finish her small dominance games.
"By the way, my name's Dave, Dave Chewy' he said, extending a powerfully muscled hand. 'And you are?"
"Um, my name is Ms. Winters' the woman said, a faint blush spreading across her face as she met his handshake. If he noticed the faint flush on her skin he was too polite to mention it, though he did hold the handshake a second longer than normal, the rough skin of his palms brushing against the soft skin of her slim fingers. Ms. Winters hesitated to withdraw her hand, then pulled it away rather abruptly, angry that she was letting this man get to her. She hadn't been made Regional Vice President for small business loans for nothing. Even among bankers she was known as a hardass, someone who enjoyed watching small entrepreneurs squirm and plead for funds, then making them jump through hoops of fire just to get a small portion of what they hoped for. Her clothes fit her reputation, slate grey business suit with creases so sharp they could cut, each detail precisely, and severely in place. Her face matched her demeanor, Her longish blonde hair pulled back into a puritanical knot, her attractive face set in cold, adversarial lines. She was used to dominating, though this man seemed completely immune to her frosty aura.
"Pleased to meet you Ms. Winters,' he smiled, handing her a sheaf of detailed spreadsheets outlining his proposal,' I hope we can wrap this up today, I can't wait to get the restaurant started. I have so many fantastic cooking ideas that I can't wait to try out!'
Ms. Winters was disdainful of such enthusiasm. Nevertheless, his bonhomme was somehow contagious, and she found herself actually interested in what his plans were.
"Well, what kind of restaurant do you have in mind?' she asked leafing through his paperwork, 'Maybe another trendy bistro for the upscale market? I here French cuisine is becoming quite the rage again'
"No, no,' he laughed, "The world certainly doesn't need another French dive with heavy sauces and bad attitudes. No, I intend to have a place were good friends can come and enjoy long memorable evenings with the greatest food in the world. I may even throw in some French from time to time, but only as side dishes."
Ms. Winters laughed at the joke, increasing disarmed by this intriguing client. "That's funny, ' she smiled back, ' but really, what kind of cuisine do you have in mind? After all, you have to have a theme or the market will get confused."
'Well I do have quite a theme', he responded with growing enthusiasm. 'I guarantee I will stand out in even the most crowded market. I intend to set up a cannibal restaurant."
There was a sudden silence as Ms. Winters slowly digested what she thought she had heard. "Did you say, CANNIBAL, restaurant?"
"Why yes,' he beamed, "But don't get the wrong impression! No simple grass hut with nothing more than an iron pot making Peace Corp soup. It'll be quite diverse! I intend to throw in dishes from around the world, from suuculent Polynesian luau, to sublime Asian stir-fry, to, of course, good old Texas style barbecues that'll stick to your ribs!'
Ms. Winters was appalled. She sat there for a second looking at the man, trying to discern any signs of impending lunatic behavior. She considered calling security, but was confident that she could handle any situation, including some crazed cannibal loan applicant.
"Um,,, I'm sorry, but our bank does not finance, er,,,, controversial ventures such as yours. I'm sorry, but I don't believe we can be of assistance, so if you'll excuse me I'm late for another appointment."
Mr. Chewy gave a small laugh. "I understand your concern,' he assured Ms. Winters, but I am quite confident that I can convince your bank to invest in my vision. After all, restaurants such as mine have prospered overseas for many years. They are, of course, quite discrete, but enormously profitable. Perhaps I can give you a sample of my wares to show you just how appetizing my product will be?'
At that, Mr. Chewy reached into his briefcase and extracted a small plastic container. Ms. Winters tensed herself, ready to leap over the desk and karate kick this madman if he produced a weapon of any kind.
To mild disappointment, the container didn't contain a gun or anything else of the lethal persuasion. Instead, it contained several portions of meat swimming in a thick golden brown gravy. The meat was sliced in various ways, from paper-thin crepes to what looked like a large, very meaty spare rib. Ms. Winters stared at the proffered flesh, unwilling to believe this was not some kind of deranged joke.
She was about to call security when the first tantalizing smell hit her. At first, it was like pheremones, completely below conscious awareness. She felt a warm sexual blush bloom in her loins, her nipples inexplicably hardened under her tight bra. Then her conscious brain first registered the heavy, meaty aroma. Her mouth involuntarily began to water as she realized suddenly she was very, very, hungry. She licked her lips without thinking, her hard blue eyes locked onto the succulent morsels before her.
"Um, I think you should leave Mr. Chewy' she said in a wavering, brittle voice. She could put no anger in her sentence, and her eyes remained locked on the sinful food in the man's hands.
"Why don't you try just one bite?' Mr. Chewy offered in a kind, polite voice. "I'm confident you'll change your mind. Everyone does, once they've partaken of the one forbidden meal."
Her hand reached towards the security button under the desk. Then, as if on its own volition, Ms. Winters saw her hand stretch out towards the tangy flesh. Her brain screamed for her arm to stop. She felt like a spectator as she saw her fingers touch the moist surface, small drops of gravy soaking her nails. The flesh was surpisingly warm, as it still held life. She now had no doubt that this was really cooked human flesh she was caressing. The piece she was touching was covered in soft, almost buttery skin, the smooth derma slightly dimpled from the heat and the surrender of it's oils. She desperately wanted to gag, to reassure herself that she was truly horrified at such a grisly repast, but she failed. The flesh was truly beautiful, even more beautiful than the living skin and muscle of a live human being. Her stomach growled it's need for this meat, and her fingers tingled with an almost electric aura where she touched what was once part of another person, now murdered and roasted so that others could feast.
Her fingers closed over the slice, picking it up and drawing it under her nose. She breathed its heady aroma, and her mouth filled with a pool of eager saliva. For some reason she noted the loose skin was pale, like hers and madly wondered how her own cooked meat, perhaps part of her arm or maybe even a soft breast, would look as it was fed into some nameless hungry maw. She shifted in chair as the sudden urgent ache demanded she press her loins harder against the seat. Then, as if in a fevered dream, she brought the meat to her lips.
Ms. Winters greeted the first taste of human flesh with a throaty gasp.. She inhaled sharply as a flood of tastes filled her mouth, overwhelming her mind's attempt to catogorize such a galaxy of sensations. Meat and oil, muscle and the distinct taste of sex blended together like cream. For no reason that she could name she knew the meat she was eating belonged to another female, a woman just like herself. Part of her cringed in revulsion at the thought of eating such fare, yet the guilty voice faded, then was silenced as the lure of the hunt took control. She bit into the morsel with growing savagery, her first nibbles soon replaced by feral gnawing. Never had Ms. Winters felt more alive than now as she fed on the fruit of her own species. Her loins finally erupted into bare animal heat and she rutted shamelessly against the chair like a crazed bitch in heat.
"Who,,..,, who was she?' Ms Winters gasped as the hard orgasms finally began to fade for a time. She looked down at her fingers which were slightly bloody from where she had chewed into her own flesh. She looked up at Mr. Chewy with half mad bloodshot eyes, like some blood drunk wolf fresh from the feast.
"What you would call an 'exotic dancer'' Chewy responded easily, as if discussing the weather. 'She worked across town and was quite, quite pretty. A bit like you as a matter of fact, once you learn to let yourself go more often. Sadly, our young dancer had a bad gambling problem and fell in debt to some of the unsavory characters who owned the club. She paid her debt with the one thing of true value she had, which was her heavenly body. Most of the girls we plan to enjoy will come from overseas, at least for a few years until we build up demand here in the states, so it's good to enjoy some of the local livestock once in a while. You do see now that I will have no problem finding customers for my fare?'
Ms. Winters simply nodded, still too gone in animal fury to make coherent sentences. She numbly reached for the loan forms, and signed the bottom of the blank sheets, then slid them over to him so he could fill out any amount her wanted. She then leaned back and began to lick the small smears of blood and skin-warm gravy from her fingers.
Mr. Chewy just smiled. Over the years he had converted hundreds to the hunger with just such a simple taste. Most humans showed simple revulsion or incomprehension when offered the flesh of their own kind. For the select few however, the first sight and smell of the one true communion offering released the pent up beast that most had spent a life holding back, trying with quite desperation to ignore its hungry howls.
"I see you were one of us all along' he said mildly, like a parent to a bewildered but promising son. 'I had hoped so when I first saw you. You had the look of a caged predator. Now you are free to pursue your true calling"
Ms. Winters stared back at him in growing comprehension. She stared hungrily at the remaining morsels in his hand, then out across the hallway to where a pair of secreteries were walking by, chatting merrily like two careless songbirds. Her eyes fell to their thick, fleshy calves lying so invitingly under the thin protection of their pantyhose. In a flash, her gaze wandered over their swaying full hips, so rich and fertile with musky life, to the silhouettes of their breast jingling helpessy under their tight blouses. She no longer saw them as fellow women but as walking feasts, masses of feverishly desirable meat clinging to bone, something to be brought down and consumed with snarling relish. With terrible intensity, she drew her tongue across her lips, eager to begin her new life.
Mr. Chewy followed her gaze and chuckled. "Oh my, I do believe that I better invite you over to our grand opening before you do something violent around here. It's going to be quite a bash, invitation only of course. We're going to have a pair of luckless lap dancers, followed by a delicious group of Japanese girls flown over here by an associate of mine who runs the Tokyo chapter of our fraternity. All, in all, it's going to be one hell of a party. "
He grew quite as he filled in the amount of money he wanted on the loan forms, then handed it to his new disciple. "Now', he asked innocently, ' have I given you everything you want?"
"Everything', she whispered, 'Everything."