Conversion-story (cannibalism) by Lottie

(Note: This is my first attempt at a cannibalistic story, as I usually focus on asphyx this has been quite difficult to write, I hope that doesn’t come across to much in the text).

I lie, nakedly compliant, on the unforgiving surface of the metal table top. The shivers that tremble through my body are provoked by a combination of both cold and fear.

“Hmm you are such a good girl”

Your voice, so familiar and comforting soothes a little of the trapped loneliness of my position. I mentally grapple with the journey that has led me to this most extreme of positions.

Our first meeting, so many months ago, had heralded the beginning of an ecstatic and deeply satisfying journey for me. You were the One; I had never truly believed that you existed, despite a lifetime of searching. Together we very quickly arrived at the edge of previously explored erotic adventures and how eager I had been to fall to my knees, in complete and earnestly devout submission, to permit that journey to continue.

You moulded your perfect slave and I, in a glory of masochistic delight, allowed you complete control over my body, mind and soul. Together we experienced a wave of delirious ecstasy and arousal, travelling to places of unbelievable suffering, distress, and torment, even exploring the very edge of life itself and yet still we desired more.

My musings focus once again on my current position: how forcibly I had argued against your desire, previously unerring consent was withheld in a wave of terror and disbelief as I had listened to your demands. There, for a short time, you surrendered, altering our dynamic in such a way as to be heartbreakingly unbearable for the both of us. The perdition of that brief time was finally sundered by your starkly torturous ultimatum: either I submit or leave.

My initial instinct had been to leave, but the realisation of a life without you was beginning to sink in. I couldn’t leave, I needed you, I needed what you offered me, you had become an addiction from which I could not escape.

If I stayed I would experience the ultimate, to be joined with you forever, but only as the result of a terrifyingly dreadful death. The alternative however was indescribably worse; a half life lived in perpetual loneliness and regret, an eternal longing never again to be satisfied, a detachment from that one thing that made life worth living.

It’s no wonder that, in the end, I practically fell at your feet to beg your forgiveness and in doing so chose death.

“It’s time to begin my little one, this injection will prevent your body from going into fatal shock and will keep you conscious for as long as possible. I will never forget this gift that you offer me my love and I will cherish your memory for as long as I live”

You lean down and kiss me deeply on the lips; I return the kiss with equal passion despite the voice already beginning to silently scream its denial inside my head.

I see the glint of madness flicker in your eyes, the real core of your ability to take me so far beyond any of my previous limits, how well you hide it behind your facade of intelligent sadism and dominance. I have always known of its presence and I have often wondered if you have seen the same glint mirrored in my own, I guess I will now never know if it is madness or love that encourages me to submit so fatally to you.

You shackle my ankles and wrists to the corners of the table, whispering of the need to limit any sudden movement and then you lift the long sharp knife to my lips. It glitters in the light, speaking its promise of ecstatic agonies to come and like a good girl I kiss it for you.

Your incision is excruciatingly swift and unbelievably agonising, I want to scream that I am not ready, that I need a little longer to live, but my mind is bereft of the ability to do anything but howl in torment. I am swept away on a raging torrent of agonised pain, anguish and torturous inhuman suffering, that ever so slowly and very gradually recedes and surprisingly I still live. I can hear your voice telling me that you have already removed my superfluous organs but have left intact those necessary to maintain a flicker of life for a little while longer. The pain remains but it no longer consumes me, I feel one blissful step removed from it, and I wonder if this disconnection is the beginning of death.

As my senses return to an almost lucid state I can feel you removing the restraints from my limbs. I glance down and see the beautifully sewn up laceration running the length of my stomach. I feel so strange, I am already dead I realise, it’s just that my consciousness lingers due to your inventive manipulations. I listen, in surreal horror, as you explain that the slightly distended shape of my tummy is a result of the forcemeat that you have filled my cavity with in an effort to keep, my soon to be, meat full of flavour. Almost negligently you pat it and a strange sensation of copious fullness awakens a hint of arousal in the unreality of the situation.

I begin to feel you manipulating my pussy, pushing something large inside; you explain that you are using vegetables to contain the juice that my carcass will release as it cooks, as well as ensuring some degree of sexual gratification to the meat. Your attention turns to my ass and I succumb to the demands of deviant sexual need as a hitherto unexplored capacity is explored. I realise, with your use of the word ‘meat’ that you have already disengaged yourself completely, and that I am no longer a person to you.

I finally experience an epiphany, a release; I understand that I am at last free from all concern and decision; I am left with one simple purpose; to become what my Master desires. I greedily experience this perfect state for a truly masochistic submissive. The beauty of what I am about to become glows brightly in my mind, and my conversion from woman to meat is finally accepted.

I can feel you touching my body intimately as you prepare me; I am amazed that whilst the agony of my torso is muted, my ability to respond to sexual stimulation is not. Your whispered words of love and gratitude caress my mind whilst your fingers expertly fondle those most sensitive of areas. The seductively addictive combination of pain and pleasure works its old magic and I feel the stirrings of orgasm begin to blossom throughout my tortured body.

“A perfect time to begin the roast” you declare.

You lift the tray on which I am now prepared into the overly large oven and allow my demanding orgasm its release before closing the glass door.

The heat of the oven envelopes me and through the, initially lucid, beginning of burning torment I acknowledge the need that has led me to this finale and I feel gratitude for this most unique of endings. The fiery torment finally erases the person within and though still living, if only for a short while, the conversion to meat is complete.

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Thank you very much warlady that is a compliment that I shall treasure. I try to make my writing as intimate as possible and I am never to sure if I suceed, your reassurance therefore is very much appreciated.

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Thank you very much Ludovico

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@ t’Sade…thank you

@der Wandersmann…as ever, thank you for your support despite your discomfort with the themes…snuggles X