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Warnings: NSFW, possibly disordered eating(?)
The air is hot and sour, rank enough to sting my throat, and it makes me dizzy. Plastic-wrapped meat bulging with gas like blistered skin. Berries melting into a single sticky mass, their seeds rising to the surface like freckles on fevered flesh. Cheese furred over with mold so soft it looks like hair.
I press my face into the smell and breathe deep. My teeth ache with want. You think hunger is about filling the stomach? You're so far from the truth. Hunger is lust. It's a violent, trembling ache of desire.
My throat tightens, my eyes water, and I keep going, because suffering is what makes it holy. When I eat what's already spoiled, I feel closest to God.
Sweating, trembling, naked on the bathroom floor, bile stringing from my lips. Gagging over what I choose to shove in my mouth. It's a religious experience. My stomach clenches, forcing me to my knees. A pathetic display of pure worship.
I gorge until I’m sobbing, until my stomach is aching, until I feel like I might pass out then and there. The tang of sour milk, the gritty fur of mold, the sudden burst of decay when a grape collapses between my teeth. I swallow greedily, my tongue searching for more, slick and frantic. As though I'm performing cunnilingus.
The rancid juices coat my throat like oil, seeping into me, claiming me from the inside out. My gut cramps in protest, but I am stubborn, devout. Milk curdles into sharp, bitter chunks, I pour it over my tongue and let it sit there, clinging to my palate like a second skin. My body shivers as it rejects and receives me in the same breath.
I want to be nothing but ruin and liquid. I want to break myself down completely, to dissolve into something unrecognizable. And when that day comes, when I finally rot myself beyond saving, I want someone to return the favor.
But I’m not ready yet. Not until I’ve desecrated myself completely.
The fantasy drives me. I picture them kneeling beside me, reverent and afraid. Their hands sinking into what I’ve become, sifting through me like wet pulp. My skin shedding in thin, gray layers like spoiled cream. Their lips on mine, breathing me in, swallowing me like sacrament.
Every time I eat, I rehearse that moment. Every bite is practice for becoming the offering instead of the consumer. I bite slowly, eyes shut, picturing teeth ripping into my skin, fingers delving into me, extracting the tender pulp of my interior like an overripe avocado.
So I gorge harder. I press on until my body hurts, until the bitterness stings the back of my throat, until I can nearly sense my own conclusion. My jaw aches from the strain, my throat tightens, my stomach expands and complains. I keep going, teeth sinking into the soft collapse of another mouthful.
Because this is my devotion. This is how I prove I am worthy of being devoured in turn. My body will not be buried. It will be remembered. It will be tasted. It will be holy.
Comments
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ava
This is beautiful writing but I am so absolutely horrified. I enjoyed this thoroughly.
⋆.˚ EWWA ⋆.˚
This shit so detailed and well written it left me staring at the invisible camera (I was staring at the wall) but this lowkey traumatized me but.... Can't say l don't appreciate the writing
Have this cookie bc you deserve it
SQUIDYTHEONE
what the fuck is wrong with you people. i cannot believe what i just read holy shit, absolute waste of writing skills
I've noticed the same people who praise my alternate account, insult me on this one. It's rather funny. Can one "waste" an infinite resource? I write all day, every day. Is it all a waste because of a distressing paraphilia I may have? Furthermore, is any writing truly a waste if the author enjoyed writing it? My posts have been gaining traction lately, I've made friends, I've improved my mental health, and due to the kindness of Spacehey strangers, I showered yesterday... Who's to say my writing is a waste when it's done all that?
"What's wrong with you people?"... Something tells me that's not a genuine question, but I'll answer! I'm a victim of CSA, an abusive household, and my disabilities prevent me from seeking help outside of said household. Despite me being 19, my mother is my legal caretaker, and I'm incapable of doing things such as leaving the house or seeking medical care without her. Therapy isn't available to me, no matter how bad I want it, so instead... I write. I write, and I post it, because of the amount of people I've been told I've encouraged to seek help for themselves. Is that a waste? Or is a pathetic, hateful comment on a situation you know very little about a waste?
by Mary-Kate; ; Report
my bad my bad, i was just totally grossed out then. in a way youve succeeded in your writing cause it made me feel such strong emotion of disgust! proves that youre really good at it
by SQUIDYTHEONE; ; Report
I understand! I'm sorry my writing made you feel that way. But I'm also glad it can invoke such emotion! Have a wonderful day, stranger. <3
by Mary-Kate; ; Report
✮sid!!
Holy shit just thinking of this turns me on and just imagine being forcefed it that would be so hot
GurdleAHurdler
Yummm :3
I love how you wrote about the rejection of the body
Kzed
I was thinking that if this continued to later in life what a thanksgiving feast using spoiled foods would look like to that sounds interesting
It would look scrumptious, that's how it would look!
by Mary-Kate; ; Report
i meant the food being properly prepared but then now that i think about it that might defeat the whole point of eating the spoiled food
by Kzed; ; Report
or actually maybe just let the thanksgiving food spoil
by Kzed; ; Report
Personally, I was picturing Thanksgiving food properly set out, then left on the table until spoiled.
by Mary-Kate; ; Report
that brings me to another thought, how long would you let it spoil for?
by Kzed; ; Report
Most of the food I consume is over at least a month past it's prime. So I suppose a month? As long as it's spoiled, it's edible, though.
by Mary-Kate; ; Report
Wow that’s honestly impressive
by Kzed; ; Report
Haha, thank you!
by Mary-Kate; ; Report
jono
"disordered eating"
you dont say, marykate... /j
I wasn't sure about that warning because it's not a restrictive type of eating... But I just added it in case!
by Mary-Kate; ; Report
i mean it doesnt scream ED neccesarily, in the sense of like, ED's typically focus on food intake (either by overindulging or restricting)
i figure this is more "paraphillic" ykwim
by jono; ; Report
Well, I do have pica, which is an eating disorder defined as eating nonedible objects — for me that's toilet paper... So it's probably related, just mixed with paraphilia. But it's not the type of ED folks usually add warnings for.
by Mary-Kate; ; Report
Izzy
My coworker's kind of insane, but he's chill.
Evil Hi
this is soooo sexy i inhale this like cocaine love ur writin i love vomit
Hehe, I'm glad you enjoy my writing!
by Mary-Kate; ; Report
Liberating madness
The final parts remind me of the setting in my novel when one first becomes an immortal after being born they are greeted by other immortals mostly those of their realm and one realm above who offer parts of their body to the young immortal in a custom called the feats of mountains and rivers which helps the new immortal progress while he also I'm returns offers his body charging his own enlightenment which is also why those that have truly transcended such as the false immortals and true immortals call them maggots even though its common for them to devour others of their kind simply for amusement.
On that note, I recoil when I eat a squishy grape so I could never eat expired food really don't know how you do it.
You comment about your novel often, and it greatly intrigues me!! I'm assuming it's not out yet, but I would love to be notified when it is. It sounds up my alley, haha.
by Mary-Kate; ; Report
I have a habbit of getting ideas and starting a new project all the time currently I have around 50! But I've started narrowing it down and focusing on interconnecting book series but generally the settings are the same just different main characters who try to ascend to immortality a pile of corpses at a time.
by Liberating madness; ; Report