Lip Gloss and Black
One/One.
There was no moon on that one night. The night the neighbors had a party, and were coincidentally daring each other to sneak into the wooded area behind our houses. And that night was the night my dog had ran off. He was a vicious son of a bitch, and he hated strangers. He was a huge black bulldog, around 75 pounds. He was a housedog, and barely exercised. My dog had escaped my grips while I was walking into the house this morning with my groceries, and as I suspected, had waltzed straight into the labyrinth of trees and brush. Oh, wasn’t it such a constellation that those bastard-ish swingers had found the shredded remains of my bastard neighbor scattered around their camp in the woods. Drunken and high, apparently they had started eating the woman little by little before they snapped out of their fuck on cocaine.
And I watched every sickening detail of the feast. How they had no control over their basic need to feed. How they lowered their heads on her chest and legs, clamping with the sound of blood gushing out of its veins, and ripping the meat up while licking their lips. And when I saw the first one realize what it was doing, I smiled. The man ran over to the fire pit and vomited. His groans and screams were more then music to my ears, and watching the bloody mucus flow out of his mouth made me chuckle. In the sickest way possible, he reached into his mouth and yanked a large piece of skin out of him. At first I had thought it was the woman’s heart, which he had ingested only a few hours ago. But as the tall man’s jaw went slack, and blood had started flowing like a spring of water out of his mouth, it was obvious. To both me, and the still tripping swingers. A pool of blood surrounded the man’s limp tongue, almost like a marinade. Although I had already threw up a bit, I couldn’t stop watching. The man was still alive as the party-goers sunk their teeth into his flesh.
By the time they had awakened, the hostess had been more then devoured. Insects were decomposing the little remains of her scalp and internal organs, and a few of the remaining guests had passed out in a cesspool of their own wastes. It was more then a party for me. Watching them writhe in agony as they desperately tried to end their lives was more then orgasmic for me, but I digress.
By the time I got back to my own house, the police were already alerted to the disappearance of the bastard whore-ish girl that resided next to me. Or, formerly resided next to me. A few days later the community was in shock that the hostess had been eaten, and a cannibalistic cult had destroyed her. Bullshit. The media never wanted anyone to know that a lot of the famed houses around the area were main providers of contraband.
And what was even worse, the hostess was the preacher’s daughter. The man who had ripped out his tongue – Her father. And the guests – religious dedicates.
And I watched every sickening detail of the feast. How they had no control over their basic need to feed. How they lowered their heads on her chest and legs, clamping with the sound of blood gushing out of its veins, and ripping the meat up while licking their lips. And when I saw the first one realize what it was doing, I smiled. The man ran over to the fire pit and vomited. His groans and screams were more then music to my ears, and watching the bloody mucus flow out of his mouth made me chuckle. In the sickest way possible, he reached into his mouth and yanked a large piece of skin out of him. At first I had thought it was the woman’s heart, which he had ingested only a few hours ago. But as the tall man’s jaw went slack, and blood had started flowing like a spring of water out of his mouth, it was obvious. To both me, and the still tripping swingers. A pool of blood surrounded the man’s limp tongue, almost like a marinade. Although I had already threw up a bit, I couldn’t stop watching. The man was still alive as the party-goers sunk their teeth into his flesh.
By the time they had awakened, the hostess had been more then devoured. Insects were decomposing the little remains of her scalp and internal organs, and a few of the remaining guests had passed out in a cesspool of their own wastes. It was more then a party for me. Watching them writhe in agony as they desperately tried to end their lives was more then orgasmic for me, but I digress.
By the time I got back to my own house, the police were already alerted to the disappearance of the bastard whore-ish girl that resided next to me. Or, formerly resided next to me. A few days later the community was in shock that the hostess had been eaten, and a cannibalistic cult had destroyed her. Bullshit. The media never wanted anyone to know that a lot of the famed houses around the area were main providers of contraband.
And what was even worse, the hostess was the preacher’s daughter. The man who had ripped out his tongue – Her father. And the guests – religious dedicates.