Ha HA! I am back again! This time with a COMPLETELY NEW idea. Yes, shocking, that I can't actually stick to one blog theme. I think every post I come up with some new theme.
Now! Now I am going to share with you some fiction, I think. I could change my mind. In fact, I'm certain I will.
But in the meantime, I will share this latest with you.
It is horrible. It makes no sense. It is bizarre. And probably disturbing.
But, I was in a bad/weird/manic mood, and just began to write. And this is what came forth. Like sputum.
So, my apologies in advance, but here it is....
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She slowly began peeling his skin off. It was slightly crunchy on the edges, yet soft and wet through the middle. She wasn’t quite sure what she was doing, but she knew she needed to be doing it.
He just laid there, barely moving. She couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t stand him. The least he could to was whimper or cry. But secretly he probably loved it, the mother fucker, I’ll show him.
She began barking at him. Like a rabid dog. In heat.
He loved this too, and began to smile. The joy began tugging at the corners of his mouth. He loved to see her suffer, to wiggle and writhe about. It tickled the inner space between his heart and his ribs. And it made him hungry.
So he began to eat her. Slowly at first, with little nibbles. Then, pretty soon, he began taking whole chunks from her flesh. Pieces of her began to disappear.
She was disappearing. Into him. Becoming one with his flesh. Soon the two would become whole. Part of her would be slipping away into the darkness, his wet darkness, swishing around in his stomach acid.
And part of her would become enmeshed with his mind, with his soul. She wanted to be his own personal encephalitis. Oh god how she would love that.
He bit off her pinky. She began to giggle. Hysterically. It made her tits wiggle, her flabby thighs and protruding belly.
He loved it, this reaction he was causing in her. Soon the two of them began to make love, with her pieces scattered about his intestines, and her wholeness becoming one with his. And his wholeness becoming one with hers.
They began disappearing into each other. Their flesh growing sticking, merging together, bulging together. The little cells, dead flakes of skin, boiling into a hot mess, all mergey and purvey.
They were a roiling boil of flesh and teeth and hair and moans and screams. Then a lump. Then a bump. And then only a bit. And then merely a spot. Pretty soon just a crumb.
And then they were no more.
Now! Now I am going to share with you some fiction, I think. I could change my mind. In fact, I'm certain I will.
But in the meantime, I will share this latest with you.
It is horrible. It makes no sense. It is bizarre. And probably disturbing.
But, I was in a bad/weird/manic mood, and just began to write. And this is what came forth. Like sputum.
So, my apologies in advance, but here it is....
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
She slowly began peeling his skin off. It was slightly crunchy on the edges, yet soft and wet through the middle. She wasn’t quite sure what she was doing, but she knew she needed to be doing it.
He just laid there, barely moving. She couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t stand him. The least he could to was whimper or cry. But secretly he probably loved it, the mother fucker, I’ll show him.
She began barking at him. Like a rabid dog. In heat.
He loved this too, and began to smile. The joy began tugging at the corners of his mouth. He loved to see her suffer, to wiggle and writhe about. It tickled the inner space between his heart and his ribs. And it made him hungry.
So he began to eat her. Slowly at first, with little nibbles. Then, pretty soon, he began taking whole chunks from her flesh. Pieces of her began to disappear.
She was disappearing. Into him. Becoming one with his flesh. Soon the two would become whole. Part of her would be slipping away into the darkness, his wet darkness, swishing around in his stomach acid.
And part of her would become enmeshed with his mind, with his soul. She wanted to be his own personal encephalitis. Oh god how she would love that.
He bit off her pinky. She began to giggle. Hysterically. It made her tits wiggle, her flabby thighs and protruding belly.
He loved it, this reaction he was causing in her. Soon the two of them began to make love, with her pieces scattered about his intestines, and her wholeness becoming one with his. And his wholeness becoming one with hers.
They began disappearing into each other. Their flesh growing sticking, merging together, bulging together. The little cells, dead flakes of skin, boiling into a hot mess, all mergey and purvey.
They were a roiling boil of flesh and teeth and hair and moans and screams. Then a lump. Then a bump. And then only a bit. And then merely a spot. Pretty soon just a crumb.
And then they were no more.
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