i do genuinely think that there'd be something so releasing about finally losing it and sinking your teeth into the flesh of another human
just letting it all go in a fit of animalistic hunger
like drifting off to sleep
awakening from a stupor of hunger, mouth and nose full of the scent of iron, viscera still dripping from your teeth. on the ground, feeling full to the point of nausea, ripping into a carcass with your nails and jaws like a rabid dog
it'd be nice :D
Crushing flesh and bone alike within your jaws. And feeling the warm texture, and subtle flavour of blood all over your face. Putting all your force on the back molars, in both a clamping and shifting motion, so as to rip and separate the outer sections of meat from the rest of the body.
Feeling the large globs, and specks of unrendered subcutaneous fat, with your tongue. Lips slick with saliva that's pouring out of your face, as if by instinct. Your hands tearing into the now open body. Gripping, and tearing anything you can grasp to shove into your mouth.
And as you realize you are nearly out of stomach capacity, you slow down. Savouring it. You take time to feel the texture of it as it slips past your lips, into your mouth, against your tongue, and finally past your throat. You think of the mild, but pleasant flavour of meat, nearly drowned out by the metallic taste of the blood. And you look out upon the feral carnage you unleashed upon this now corpse. The sight of the ravaged remains, fills you with a sense of satisfaction.
It's a fun thought :3
And it's not just the physical action of it either. It's the knowledge that this is a person you're tearing into. This is flesh someone made with time. This is blood formulated by their body. All for a physical purpose as well. For the greater function of the body itself.
And yet it's been reduced to dripping down your face. And being shoved down your throat. It's an extra layer of comfort: for every bite, and sip, there's that much less in and of that person left. That mouthful of hypodermis was once excess glucose, that was turned into flesh to serve the greater purpose of the organism. But no longer. Now it's just a gratifying piece in the ripping, tearing, biting, enjoyment you're partaking in now.
The amazing fact that parts and pieces of their self are being separated, and destroyed. All for your enjoyment. A beautiful theft of their person, in favour of your own. In this action, they no longer are. All the more encouragement. Each drop of flavour is a marker of what is no longer of them. I have what they are between my teeth. And soon, it will be me. An assimilation of the stolen person. They are no longer, for they are now me.
