Going for the Jugular

Going for the jugular. 

The most taboo of all fantasies. 

The one that turns you on but that you would never, ever do. 

The one you’re most ashamed to admit. 

Wow. That’s a hefty request. I’m going to do it, but consider this your fair warning: don’t click past the cut if you don’t want something utterly depraved, disgusting, and utterly fantasy. It’s not going to be entirely consensual, it’s sure as hell not safe or sane… It kind of breaks my own rules. But fantasies do that.

This is MY fantasy. It’s not one I want to have happen.  

One I'm ashamed of

            I’m not going to wrap this up all pretty and artistic. This isn’t a story, not a place with characters or a narrator. This is fantasy, as raw as it gets. This is the dark place of my mind, the most filthy that I can imagine.

            It’s a place where the first thing that happens is my being trained to live on human waste. Maybe there’s something involved that changes my biology; I don’t know and I don’t care. I just know that now, when she puts me in the septic tank at night, it’s like swimming in a buffet. I can drink and eat as much as I want. And I know that the only things I will ever taste again are piss, shit, cum, and leather. And I know that’s okay.

            It’s a place where sometimes, I will serve as a toilet at parties. I will strapped down with my mouth open, and people will use me as they will. Maybe they’ll spit on me, maybe they’ll piss all over me. Maybe they’ll shit in my mouth, or just take a shit over my eyes, so I can’t swallow, can’t see, but will smell nothing else.

            This is a place where I am taken to a truck stop, where I kneel in a stall with my hands cuffed behind me, with my eyes blindfolded, my mouth held open with a ring gag, and a sign around my neck. A sign that tells whoever comes in that I desperately want to be used however they like. A sign that tells them to piss down my throat, to fuck my face until they get bored of me.

            It’s a place where I get sold to a trucker, where there’s a harness that hooks my head to his belt, so that I can’t be anywhere but with my lips around his cock as he drives around the country. A place where every time someone drives past, they can see that I’m sucking him off. A place where getting pulled over by the cops means nothing more than the possibility of sucking a different cock. Where I am driven around the country, used by one man after another until they get tired of me and trade me off to someone else.

            This is the part of my mind where I am desperate to spend time at a glory hole. Where I am handed around a party like some kind of toy. These are the worst and darkest parts of every story I’ve ever written.

            It’s the part of my mind where surgery takes away my control over my body, but not the sensations, where I can be tortured but can’t move even to protect myself. A place where my crotch is beaten until I beg to be castrated. Deeper and deeper into the darkness of my mind, I leave all these things behind, or at least put them to the side.

            There it is. That’s the one. A hypnosis so complete that I can’t resist anything. Something that makes me into a living, breathing fuck doll. Where I can’t say no, no matter what. Anything you want to do to me, I agree. Anything you tell me to do, I do. Anyone you tell me to fuck, I fuck. No concern for who they are, no concern for where I am, no concern for anything other than serving.

            Sometimes, I’ll be dressed up in latex and leather, paraded around a public forum. I’ll win my owner money when competing with other slaves. There’s nothing I won’t do, so I will always degrade myself further than them. I will always go further. I will suck his dick after he fucks her dirty ass. I will lick the horse shit from her boots. I will swallow his cigarette ash and the butt when he is finished with it. I will use my hair to wipe up the vomit when people lose it.

            Sometimes, I’ll be tied up so completely that I won’t be able to move anything more than my eyes. Sometimes, I won’t even be able to do that. I’ll watch as people who once respected me come and see how pathetic I am. I’ll be propped up as a piece of furniture, and people will pay me all the respect and attention that furniture deserves. I’ll be on my hands and knees as a couple fucks on my back, ignoring me completely.

            Sometimes I’ll be used to experiment with new toys, to see how painful they are, how well they work, and what it takes to break them.

            Sometimes, I’ll be given to new couples on the scene, so they can experiment with their dirtiest fantasies.

            I can’t say no. I won’t say no.

            I’ll be your toilet for the weekend. You don’t have to talk to me. You don’t have to look at me. Just sit there and shit in my mouth.

            I’ll be a spittoon for you and your friends while you play poker. I’ll even crawl to each of you so that you can spit in my mouth when you want to.

            You can choke me until I pass out. And you can fuck me when I do. You can gag me on your cock and hold my head there until I pass out. Then you can keep going until you’re done.

            You can blindfold me so I don’t even know who I’m servicing, so I don’t know where I am or who is watching.

            You can put me on the internet, let people choose what they want to have happen to me. You can let them abuse me from a distance like I’m some kind of pornographic flash game.

            I can’t say no. I won’t say no.

            It’s hypnosis. And you’ll remind me that I could resist if I really wanted to. That you can’t be hypnotized to do something you wouldn’t otherwise do. You’ll remind me that I want to do it all. That I love every second of it. You’ll make me tell you that I love it. Make me beg you to treat me worse than an animal, to do things so horrible that you’ll never look at me as a person ever again.

            You’ll stop me from saying I. I will become an it. And it will love every minute. You’ll remind it that it loves every minute. You’ll remind it that it wants this. And you’ll remind it that it can’t forget any of it. That it remembers each moment. That it remembers every cock with perfect clarity, every pussy in vivid detail. That it can still feel the press of every ass cheek, can still smell the musk of every random stranger to use it in a glory hole. You’ll remind it that it has spent entire evenings in a dark alley, sucking off anyone who came by.

            You’ll remind it that it has eaten the shit of a dozen different animals. That it has mucked out stalls with its bare hands, then licked its hands clean while you video taped it. You can remind it that it has bathed in cum. That is has nearly drowned in it. That it has begged farmers for horse cum, that it can tell the difference in types of cum purely by taste.

            And you’ll remind it that it wants all of this to happen. That it could stop at any point. That it could have stopped long ago.

            You’ll remind it that this is what it loves, that here is where it belongs. You’ll remind it that not only has it accepted its place as the lowest of the low, the most disgusting of all creatures, and the most pathetic slave in the history of the world, but that it loves every minute of it.

            As for it? Well, it will only enjoy its torture.

            Because even if it didn’t… why would you care?