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Thread: Gnawing On Nipples

  1. #1
    Forum Elite callmecaleb's Avatar
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    Gnawing On Nipples

    I love nipples. Literally. I nibble and chew and swallow. And when they are devoured, I suck up the blood that flows from the wound. Beneath me, I feel a body lurching and jerking in pain. I hear the muffled screams coming from a mouth stuffed with a sock. The sock mutes the noise, like a mute on a violin or trumpet, creating a more mellow sound. But still, the sound of pain and terror. And I’m in Heaven.

    Fantasy. Going way back to elementary school. My friends at the local swimming pool. Then gym class and the showers. Smooth young skin and a growing desire to chew on it, to eat. This craving ate at me. Stronger and stronger, until I relented and bowed down to the demon inside me. I yielded to man’s most primal need. To kill for food. I was twenty-two.

    But who? Blake. A rent-boy. Gorgeous, well-built. Smooth ivory skin, great thighs and biceps. Sexy pecs studded by two large brown nipples, topped with succulent tips. Yes. Blake would be my first. We met on Hustler Hill and negotiated. I was more than generous. He was willing to go to my cabin three hours out of town. He was willing to let me tie him down. For a price. A hefty price. I gave him cash. He was satisfied. For him, a profitable night. I was ecstatic. For me, the night of my dreams.

    In the cabin, Blake was spread-eagled on a bed. God, he was gorgeous! And I kept telling him that. Feeding his ego. I asked him to struggle against the ropes, emphasizing the muscularity of his arms and legs, his chest and abs. He was more than willing to show off his beauty, grunting and groaning and straining. I hopped on top of him and nibbled at his tits. He loved it. I dropped and sucked his cock. He moaned as I sucked his cock, but stopped before he came. The bitch was in heat.

    Then, I bit. Hard. Ripping at his nipple. Teeth clamped onto the tip. He screamed. I bit harder, ripping at the fleshy tip. In a second, I had ripped it off and it was in my mouth. Oh. My. God. What have I done? A man’s nipple in my mouth! I almost couldn’t hear Blake’s screams as I rolled it around on my tongue. Awesome! Unreal! Very slowly, I chewed that little piece of flesh. I savored it until I had finally masticated it into a pulpy mush and swallowed it. Blake was still screaming and thrashing. I picked up a sock and jammed it into his mouth, muting his noise a bit. My eyes widened as I looked into his terror-filled eyes. “Sorry, man. I have to eat your nipples. Can’t help it.” I was suddenly calm. Even as he struggled mightily, tried to shout through the gag, and thrashed about on the bed. I put my hand to his cheek, ran my fingers through his hair, rubbed his belly, stroked his cock. He had one of those large, fleshy dicks that sort of stayed the same size whether hard or flaccid. Nice, but that’s for later. Right now, I wanted his nipples.

    I am not going into detail on what I did to Blake. I’m not going to write a porn story. Suffice it to say that I killed him. The important thing is I ate human flesh for the first time that night. It was sublime. Every piece of Blake that went into my mouth was sublime. It is a taste like no other. Eating Blake was a combination of physical and mental pleasures. Yes, eating flesh and drinking blood. But that pleasure was enhanced by witnessing his agony and terror, and hearing his screams of fear and pain. All came together to provide the most sublime and sensual experience of my life. I was changed. My future had changed. My cravings could no longer be subdued. I would kill again, and I would eat again. Many times.
    Last edited by callmecaleb; 13-05-18 at 11:11 PM.

  2. #2
    Forum Elite callmecaleb's Avatar
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    My Journal. I will record my activities and thoughts. Not to titillate or arouse. Simply to keep a record of who and how.

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    Forum Elite callmecaleb's Avatar
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    Disposal. I buried Blake in the pasture. But there had to be a better means of disposal. A more erotic and imaginative way. I bought a wood chipper. There was a creek that ran beneath my property, about ten feet down an open crevice. With concrete, I built a base for the chipper. It faced down, toward the stream. I dug up Blake (Yuk!) and tested my idea. Sure enough, Blake’s body was ground up and shot down into the crevice and mostly washed away by the stream. Perfect. One regret, though. I wish there was some way of crawling into the crevice, stand naked and having the guy’s remains spray all over my naked body. I’ve thought this through for hours, but there is no way to do this. Pity.

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    Forum Elite callmecaleb's Avatar
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    BB’s. I suspended John by his wrists from a tree branch. Then shot hundreds of BB’s at his naked body. BB’s sting, but they don’t do any real damage. Until, eventually, they do. I brought out an outdoor chaise lounge and a small table. Sat there with my gun and a bottle of beer. I had a rope tied to each foot. I could pull on the ropes to swing him around, letting me aim at any part of his body without having to get out of the chair. Real comfort. Shooting his legs and back and belly made him jump around a lot. Hitting his nuts hurt even more. But most fun was aiming at his face. I considered it a prime hit when I shot one into his eye. Or his mouth when he opened it to scream. Eventually, both his eyes became bloody, mushy messes. So cool. I must have shot a thousand BB’s. His entire body was red with blood, but he was still conscious. I pulled him higher and slid the lounge under him. Full of beer, I fell asleep to the soothing sound of his crying and his moaning, and the drip, drip, drip of his warm blood on my own nakedness.

  5. #5
    Forum Elite callmecaleb's Avatar
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    Tongue. Pedro was a serious bodybuilder. Hard body with no body fat. Big veins on big muscles. When the drugs wore off, he found himself standing naked under a tree. A rope around his chest held him upright. His hands were bound in front of him, fastened to a chain around his waist. Twine wrapped his nuts. And the twine was attached to a fifty-pound weight that, for now, rested on a small table between his legs. And through his tongue was a hook, attached to a chain, attached to a tree limb above. As he regained consciousness, he felt the pain of the hook in his tongue. After some uncertainty about his situation, he saw me. I walked over and ran my hands over his body. “God, I love your muscles, Pedro. You don’t have much flesh on you, but you still look delicious. Now, here’s the deal. I’m going to put the fifty-pound weight in your hands. And you are going to hold it for six hours. Easy, yes? Fifty pounds is nothing to you. But if you drop it, your nuts will take the weight, and that will really hurt. You lose your balance, maybe. Then you’ll be handing by your tongue. Not good. So, stand tall.” I picked up the weight, put it in Pedro’s hands, and removed the table. He tried to talk but seemed tongue-tied. Just mumbling sounds came out. I left him there and got a beer and a small leather bag. I stripped naked and sat and drank and watched, slowly stroking my cock.

    Then I began to talk. Telling him how gorgeous his body was. Describing its beauty. Congratulating him on how well he had sculpted it. And how delicious it looked. How I could eat him up. His nipples, small but firm. Hi biceps, huge and hard. This went on until he had hit the three-hour mark. He had not had any problem standing still and holding the weight. I opened my bag and pulled out a syringe. His eyes bugged a bit, uncertain as to what I was doing. “Pedro, I’m going to slide this needle into this big vein on your bicep. Just stay still.” I slid the syringe into his vein, pulled out a jar, and removed the plunger. Blood streamed into the jar. When it was half full, I pulled the syringe out of his arm. “Look, Pedro. Your blood. Your life. It nourishes your body and now will nourish mine.” He watched, bug-eyed, as I began to drink from the jar. I drank it all. His stomach heaved, wanting to retch. He staggered, but kept his balance as he fought the urge to vomit. But he was terrified now. I could feel his terror radiate from his body. And my body absorbed his terror. My dick was as hard as his biceps. As Pedro trembled in fear, my dick trembled in anticipation.

    My lips were red with his blood, and I had a red “mustache”. I kissed a nipple. And nibbled. Then bit into it. It hurt. He made a high-pitched noise, the kind that comes from pain. Still, he held the weight. With my knife, I made light cuts on his chest and belly. Blood began to dribble to his crotch, and down his legs. I cut his biceps and forearms. Blood rand down his arms to his hands. When the blood reached his feet, it would be harder to stand firm. When the blood reached his hands, his grip on the weight would be less firm. I watched his face. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. Sweat glistened on his forehead. On his entire torso. I put the knife to the tip of his nose. Blood dripped onto his tongue and back into his mouth. He gagged. He lurched. He lost his balance. As he tried to stay up, the weight slipped from his bloody hands. It fell. Fifty pounds yanked his balls. His feet slipped. His body dropped. All in an instant. He hung by his tongue, which was supporting his full weight plus fifty pounds more. His feet flailed uselessly. Then the inevitable. His tongue was ripped from his mouth. Pedro fell to the ground. His tongue swung on the hook.

    I pulled the tongue off the hook and sat in my chair. Ignoring the writhing, groaning man at my feet, I examined the muscle. It was soft and pliable. But when I bit it, it was tough. Going to have to cook it. So, I took it into the kitchen and wrapped it for later. Went back out to Pedro. As he continued to squirm on the ground, I pulled the hook down and shoved it up into the roof of his mouth. He soon hung with the hook through the roof of his mouth, and the fifty pounds hanging again from his nuts. I released his hands. They flailed, to his nuts, to his mouth, unable to disengage from either the weight or the hook. Strange sounds emanated from his mutilated mouth.

    Hung on a hook, Pedro was like prime beef in a butcher shop. Literally. I butchered him, but showed him every piece as I sliced it from his carcass. He had worked so hard to perfect his body, I wanted him to know how much I prized it. I got three wonderful meals out of this man, plus a lot of ground beef for burgers. He was tough but mighty tasty. Remembering a man’s beauty will enhance the taste of his meat.

  6. #6
    Forum Elite callmecaleb's Avatar
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    Craving Man. O.K. Being a cannibal or a vampire is not considered in good taste in our society. But that is what I am, and I’m not ashamed. I am, however, very picky. I won’t eat just any human. It must be a young man, and a very prime cut. In other words, good-looking and well-built. No way I would be tempted to eat a woman, a child, or a man over thirty. Yuck!

    I like my man meat to be fresh, butchered live if possible. Or at least butchered within a couple hours of death. I will refrigerate or freeze meat, but only for a few days. I’ve worked up several tasty meals featuring man meat. Maybe, when I have more experience, I will write out my recipes. But I’m not there yet.

    Man is good for snacks as well as full meals. Crispy fingers and toes, lightly fried in olive oil, are wonderful for dips while watching TV. Ground-up organs and brains, with herbs and spices, make tasty dips. Blood can be incorporated into dips and sauces, as well as being served in a wine glass at dinner. I bought a wine cooler, adjusted the temperature settings, and now have a warmer that will keep blood at the ideal temperature for several days.

    But of course, the fresher the better. That’s why I sometimes keep a “snack boy” available to satisfy any hunger urges I may have. I keep a naked guy tied into a chair near the door. Whenever I go in or out, or just want a quick bite, I use a knife or scissors to snip off something to chew on. A finger, toe, ear lobe, or a slice. He’s great when I have a case of the nibblies. And sucking up his blood can quench a light thirst. The chair has wheels, so I can keep him next to me while watching TV. And I keep him near my bed when I sleep. The noises he makes are very soothing to me and help me sleep. Much better than any white noise device. My first snack boy lasted six days, and the second one eleven days. I’m getting better at making them last. The one I have now has been here almost three weeks and doesn’t seem to be getting too weak. Let’s hope.

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    Forum Elite callmecaleb's Avatar
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    Poor Jody. Another rent-boy. Rent-boys are plentiful and disposable. But I liked Jody. Felt sorry for him. We started hiking from my cabin. I wore only hiking boots, a baseball cap, and a knapsack. He was totally naked. And happy. He had taken a liking to me, and offered himself free-of-charge. After an hour, we stopped at a clearing, just above a thick patch of blackberries. I laid on my back and pulled him on top of me. I lifted my legs and said, “Fuck me, Jody.” His eyes lit up and he spit in his hand and in a moment his dick was pumping my ass. It was good. He was good. When he had exhausted himself, I rolled out, grabbed a wrist and ankle, spun him around and let him fly through the air and straight into the blackberry patch. He went in headfirst. Only his feet showed above the brambles as his screaming began.

    I let him be for about ten minutes, when his screaming died down. “Jody. Shut up. I said, SHUT UP! Now listen. I’ll pull you out but first you have to get over here, to me. You can do it. Get yourself standing on your feet and make your way to me.” “I can’t!” “Yes, you can. Otherwise you’ll never get out.” I’ll give the kid credit. He was tough. And determined. He actually righted himself and somehow worked his way toward me. Walking on the thorns, sliding over and through the thorns, he came within five feet of me. I tossed him a rope and told him to tie one end to his wrist. Then I pulled his body through the thorny bushes and up towards the path. Watching for just the right moment, I suddenly let him drop back into the thorns, so his crotch straddled a heavily thorned branch. His cock and sac were skewered. Then I pulled him all the way out. I laid down and pulled him on top of me. His body had been ripped to shreds.

    Jody laid on me, sobbing, crying, trying to hit me. “You are cruel, Caleb. You are fucking cruel! Why did you do this? I can never work again! You fucked me up!” He sobbed onto my chest for the longest time. I said nothing, just held him close. Held his bloody body close. He was right. He’d never work again as a rent-boy. His beautiful body was beyond repair. He raised himself and looked into my eyes. “You are going to kill me, aren’t you? That was your plan all along. Well, do it! Kill me. I’m ready.” He told me his story. Rotten parents. Sold to a sex ring at age five. At fourteen, the ring was busted and he was on the streets, fending for himself. He was twenty now and could remember nothing in his life except being used for sex. By older men. Nasty men. Thought I was different. But I wasn’t any better than the rest. Maybe worse. Now he can’t sell his body ever again. So he wants me to kill him.

    “O.K.” “You’ll kill me?” “Yes.” Can you do it without pain?” “I can.” “Will you?” “Don’t know. Come with me.”

    I pulled him up and told him to follow me. He couldn’t walk because of thorns in his bare feet. I pulled at the rope around his wrist and dragged him along the dirt path for a few hundred feet. Then stopped and picked him up and tossed him over my shoulder and carried him to a clearing about a mile away. I dropped him into a nearby creek. The cold water washed the dirt and blood from his body. Then I strung him up, wrists from a tree branch, and spread-eagled his legs. In the bushes was a metal chest where I kept lots of tools. I got some towels and dried Jody off, although he continued to bleed from his scratches and cuts and ripped skin. “Will you kill me now?” “Not yet. I’m still horny. You haven’t done anything to please me yet.”

    I leaned close to his face. There was a flap of torn skin on his cheek. I took it in my teeth and pulled. He let out a screech as I peeled off the skin. And an even louder one when he saw that I had swallowed it. His eyes bugged and he said, “You ate that?” “Yep, Jody, and you’ve got a lot more for me.” “No, No, No.” For the next hour, I pulled bits of skin from Jody’s body. Some with my teeth, some with a pair of pliers. I especially liked the skin from his cock and balls. They were pretty torn up and there were lots of flaps for me to feast on. His face was fun, too. Fun for me because these two places caused him more pain than his back and legs and belly. He was sobbing when I finally held his face between my hands. “You’re still cute, Jody. A bloody mess but that’s what makes you so sexy.”

    With my thumb, I gouged out an eye. He screamed bloody murder. His eyeball hung about three inches below the socket. I held it by the ligaments or whatever was attached and pointed it towards my face. “Can you still see my face, Jody. Is your eye still working?” No answer, of course. I put my mouth over the eyeball and closed my mouth. We were so close we could feel each other’s breathing. And I could feel his overwhelming pain. I rolled the eyeball around my mouth with my tongue, and then bit into it. More screaming but I concentrated only on the thin, bitter liquid that spurted into my mouth. Interesting. Jody’s face was scrunched up, this other eye closed tight, as if afraid I might want the other eye. Nope. Instead, I pushed my knife blade into that eye, all the way to the back of his brain. His whole body convulsed. His pain indescribable. Horrific. I held him, savoring his death.

    Jody was a nice kid. Cute. Personable. Had a rough life, a sad, miserable, painful life. All he wanted was a merciful, painless death. Fuck him.

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    Forum Elite callmecaleb's Avatar
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    Live Autopsies. Rolf. He told me his real name was Ralph, but he was a neo-Nazi and liked the German spelling better. I could tell from talking to him, he like real rough stuff. So, when we got home, I showed him a couple vids that got pretty violent. He was stoked. Then, I took him in to see my snack boy. He was surprised to see the guy tied into the chair with blood on his chest. I took the scissors and snipped off an earlobe and popped it into my mouth. “Oh, Shit! Did you just do that?” “Yep. Go ahead, Rolf, take the other one.” He hesitated and then cut the other lobe off and put it in his mouth. “Come on. We’ll come back to this later. I got even better vids to show you.” So, we watched a vid of one of my kills. He couldn’t believe it. He was fucking turned on. Kept pressing his cock as he watched. He didn’t get to see the end, though. His drugged beer knocked him out.

    Rolf woke up on my brand-new autopsy table. I had just brought it home three days ago. Especially equipped with straps to secure a live body. Yes. I planned on performing autopsies on living men. Like Rolf. I put a block of wood under his head, like they do I real autopsies. Keeping his head up like this would allow Rolf to watch my work. I sliced his belly and we both watched his gut begin to force its way out of his stomach.

    Guts are persistent. They are trapped inside our bodies, but they crave freedom. So, if there is an opening, they’ll jump on it. When I sliced Rolf’s belly, an intestine poked through the opening. The yellowish mass pulsed its way through the cut. It pulsed in time to Rolf’s breathing. And as Rolf watched, his breathing grew heavier out of fear and pain. His panic helped his guts pulse their way out of the opening and mound up on his belly. Some people might find it repulsive or disgusting, but I love it. Soft and mushy, with no form, guts slithered out of Rolf’s belly and made a neat pile. Warm and slimy to the touch. I put my tongue to the pile. Yes, warm and slimy. But no real taste. The taste is inside. Foul. Food being digested and turned to shit.

    Rolf howled as he saw his guts slip through the opening. After the pile had grown, I took some in my fingers and pulled, partially disentangling the pile. Rolf watched in horror as I cut through the intestine, twice, and held a foot-long piece up for him to see. I put it into my mouth and held it in my teeth. The two ends drooped and dripped some brown liquid. I must have looked scary because Rolf began to lurch and jerk at his ropes and screamed in a high-pitched screech. I reveled in his fear and panic.

    I picked up my skinning knife and leaned over his face. The hanging intestine touched his nose. Then I made a quick slice with the knife across his chest above the pecs. Two quick cuts on either side from his pecs down to his hips. Then I began to slice under the skin and slowly peeled back his chest, separating it from his breast bone. Like skinning a deer. Rolf was so securely bound to the table that his torso didn’t move as he tried to flail about. Very carefully, I continued slicing. The chest peeled back, then his upper belly, pulled away from ab muscles. Then down to the lower belly, and the pile of guts, still pulsing and pushing. When I finally I reached his pubic region, I simply folded the entire slab over his crotch. He looked like he was wearing a soggy red loincloth.

    Anyone who likes red meat could not help but admire my handiwork. From chest to penis, Rolf had been opened like a slaughtered bull. Here was rich red beef, mixed with white streaks of marbled muscle, floating on a bed of oozing crimson blood. Just below the meat was the movement of a beating heart and the up and down of breathing lungs. Kidneys. Liver. Nothing I had ever seen could surpass the beauty and sensuality of this open body. Rolf was still alive, his heart pumping blood, filling the cavity with a red, oozing liquid that glistened in the light. His lungs pumped up and down, which in turn caused the oozing red liquid to shimmer like a puddle on a windy day. It was absolutely sensuous.

    What to do now? Tear at it with my hands? Rip it with my teeth? Suck up blood with my mouth? I decided to wait. Just watch Rolf until he died. His eyes were closed, his mouth wide open. He was breathing laboriously, loudly. A soothing sound to my ears. Rolf is prime beef and choice beef in one package. He will make several nourishing meals.

  9. #9
    Forum Elite callmecaleb's Avatar
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    “Call Me Caleb”. That’s how you’ll recognize me if we ever meet. It’s how I introduce myself. If you are young and pretty and built, I may ask you to come to my cabin in the hills. If you accept, you will die. You will die a hideously painful death. And I will eat you. And then I may tell others about you in this journal. You will be immortalized. Look for me. I’m a hot young man. You’ll be attracted. And I may smile and say, “Hi. Call Me Caleb, and come home with me.”

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    absolutely incredible!!!!!!!!!!!! bravo, bravo!!!
    my cock exists for male feet/soles!!!

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    Very nice story, thank you

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