A Cannibal’s Dream…and Nightmare


Your Friendly Neighborhood Necro
Elite Member
Jan 13, 2012
Bowels of Hell
Slaughter and Feast

Even before I opened my eyes, I knew. I was tied to the table and the cannibals were going to eat me.

Zakary was standing next to the table, rubbing my chest and looking down at me.
“Hey, Caleb.”
“Hey, Caleb?! What the fuck does that mean? Why am I here, Zakary?”
“It’s time. That’s all. Nothing personal, but it’s just time. To move on.”
“You’re tired of me, so it’s time to kill me?”
“What else can I do?”
“If you’re tired of me, just send me on my way. Say good-bye.”
“Doesn’t work that way. You can’t just leave.”
“But WHY?”
“It’s just always worked this way. Since I was eleven. Papa let me pick a friend but would only let me keep him for a year. Then I had to find a new one.”
“So, you have a new friend? Who? Nathan? The creepy bodybuilder?”
“Doesn’t matter, Caleb. You have to go. Tonight. But it doesn’t mean I don’t still love you. I mean, you have been great fun to be with. You’ve worked with me to build my body to be as beautifully sculpted as yours. And you’ve fucked me almost every day with the world’s biggest cock. The pain has been glorious. So, don’t think I won’t miss you.”
“Fuck you!”
“Look, Caleb. Think of it this way. You’re a gorgeous man with an absolutely spectacular body. Every man lusts after you. They want to consume you. You’ve got an ego, so what more could you want?”
“I want to live, Zakary. I don’t want to be sliced to death and eaten. I FUCKING WANT TO LIVE! PLEASE! DON’T KILL ME!!”
“I’m sorry. But it won’t be painful. Papa says the injection that paralyses you will also shut down your pain receptors. You’ll see everything but won’t feel a thing. It will be a huge turn-on, watching yourself be cut up.”
“I don’t believe it. You’ve looked into the eyes of the guys we’ve killed. They felt something.”
“Papa says you won’t feel it, Caleb. Now, it’s time. Thanks, Caleb, you’ve been a great friend.”
“That’s all you have to say? You’ve been a great friend? Fuck you! But, please, Zakary. Don’t do this! DON’T KILL ME! PLEASE!”

As I cried out, pleading for my life, Zakary slid the needle into a vein in my ankle and pressed. I immediately felt a warm sensation run through my body as the liquid coursed through my veins. My body flushed and I became lightheaded. It felt so nice, like shooting up cocaine. In seconds, my entire body was still. No struggling. Just relaxed, immobile. I watched as Zakary removed the hypo and cleaned the drops of blood from my ankle. He leaned down to my face, whispered “I love you”, and kissed my lips. Then he leaned into my crotch and took my cock in his mouth and gave it a little love bite. And I FELT IT! Oh, SHIT! I could feel his lips and his teeth. The drug had made me speechless and immobile, but had actually HEIGHTENED my sense of feeling! Zakary was wrong! I would feel everything! I would suffer extreme pain and they would never know. Oh, GOD, I have descended into HELL, and was about to suffer its torments!

It wasn’t long before the door opened and the others trooped in. Andre and Maurice, as usual, in formalwear. Mathew and Felipe, two regulars. And another guy I didn’t recognize. Was he Zakary’s new boy? Who would be on this table himself one day? They surrounded me and began to stroke me.

“It’s Caleb! I wondered if you would ever serve him up.”
“Andre, why didn’t you just sell him to me when I offered twenty-five thousand? I could have made him last four days on my rack. I really wanted to torture this glorious hulk.”
“Sorry, Maurice. But he was Zakary’s boy and I really couldn’t sell him. Maybe someone else someday.”
“There will never be another Caleb, Andre. This one was special.”

Andre spoke, “Gentlemen. This indeed is a special event. Caleb has been with us for a year and has been a wonderful companion. A lot of fun to be with, and certainly a beauty to look at. And none of us have ever encountered such a massive cock. We’ve all touched it from time to time, but tonight we will feast on it. Now, let’s move him into position.”

They lifted me off the table, set me on the floor, and pulled me into a sitting position. From the ceiling, they pulled down two meat hooks. Oh, fuck, no! They stuck one into my back, just inside my shoulder blade. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh! OH, GOD, THAT HURTS! Then the other hook went in next to it. JESUS! JESUS! JESUS! IT HURTS SO BAD! But, to the others, I gave no indication of the unbearable pain I was feeling. My body didn’t react, I didn’t scream. Someone pulled on the ropes. The sharp points of the meat hooks dug deep into my trapezius muscles, and my body began to move upward. My arms hung loose at my sides as my butt lifted off the floor. Slowly, painfully, the hooks lifted my weight, dragging my limp legs along, until I was fully suspended in the air, with my feet inches off the floor. The pulley stopped. I dangled, my body swinging slightly. My head lolled forward, looking into the eyes of six men. Their eyes reflected many emotions. Amazement that a man was hanging on meat hooks in front of them. Wonder at my beauty. Lust in anticipation of turning my beauty into a slab of meat and sinew and gore. Desire to consume me, drink my blood, eat my flesh. But no awareness of the hideous pain I would suffer for their pleasure.

“Gentlemen, before we begin, let’s appreciate Caleb as a man, a friend, one last time. He has been a great friend to my son, Zakary. Teaching him wisdom, building his body, honing his skills, expanding his imagination. Zakary learned many killing techniques from Caleb. Techniques that will be put to good use in the future…tonight, perhaps. We all enjoyed Caleb’s wit and friendliness, his infectious personality. So, let’s begin by drinking a toast to Caleb.” Zakary slipped a syringe into my arm and drained my blood into six small glasses. “To Caleb!” “Caleb!” “Now, fondle him, caress him, take your selfies with him.”

They crowded in, ran their hands over my body. Caressing and pinching. Nibbling and licking. Mouths on my cock. Fingers in my asshole. Tongues in my mouth. Taking selfies and group photos. Posing in salacious positions. Making lurid comments. And I just hung, swinging on my hooks, a piece of slaughterhouse meat, an object of derision and lust. I hung suspended, silent and immobile, but inwardly demeaned and scared. Through my pain, I cried in shame. No tears on my cheeks, but inwardly I sobbed uncontrollably.

“O.K. guys. We all know that, beyond his many attributes, Caleb’s dick is his pride and joy. The biggest piece of meat any of us has ever seen. Take a last look, a last feel, a last nibble, while it’s still intact. It’s about to be cut off. Zakary will use his mouth to arouse it, engorge it, and make it bigger and harder. There. Look at that mother fucker! HUGE! Now he slips an elastrator over it. And a second one. And one over his nuts. O.K. are you ready for the big cut? Caleb’s cock is coming off.”

The room had lots of mirrors and I could see myself from various angles. Still magnificent. Still stunningly beautiful. I’d been here before, in this room. I’d seen men hanging here, and on the table, about to be sliced. I know the feeling of lust. If I were down there looking up at me, I’d have a raging hard-on, barely able to wait to begin ripping at the hanging body with my knife. But I wasn’t down there. I was the dude swinging from the hooks. Zakary knelt and wrapped his mouth around my cock. Oh, he was good! As bad as I hurt and as scared as I was, he made my dick feel good. Brought me almost to shooting into his mouth. But he pulled back. I saw the elastrator and wanted to pull away. But I could only hang as he snapped the first band on my shaft. Ooooh God, that hurt! And so did the second one. And the third tied off my nut sac. All the guys were staring, panting, practically drooling with anticipation.

Then Zakary with his knife. An extremely sharp blade. He placed it between the two bands on my cock and pressed downward. Thick as my cock was, it popped off with one cut. The pain was immense but it didn’t matter as I watched with my own fascination as Zakary held my severed dick in his hands and raised it so I could see clearly what I had lost. This was the beginning. The first cut. The first piece of me to drop into their hands and mouths. I watched the guys pass my cock around, licking, kissing, nibbling at it. Someone grabbed my hair and pulled my head far back, forcing my mouth wide open. Then my dick was shoved in, cut end first, barely fitting because of its size. I saw them laughing, heard them making obscene jokes. And saw my reflection in the mirror. My crotch devoid of its treasure, my mouth stuffed with my dick, pee hole gaping. I was mortified. Moments ago, I was a hunk to be lusted after. Now a disfigured laughingstock. A tear actually escaped my eye and ran down my cheek. Zakary saw it and wiped it away before the others noticed. “Sweet, Caleb. My love.”

Suddenly, I screached. Not really. I couldn’t but I needed to scream. Someone had bit down on my balls. The pain was so great I wanted to retch, to puke out my guts. But as the teeth ground into my nuts, I simply swung, quietly. The teeth bit and chewed, grinding my testicle inside the sac. Then a sharp cut and my nuts were being handed around, chewed, and finally swallowed. I felt my fingers being snipped off and laid on a tray with a dip Zakary had made with the liver of the cute blond we killed last week. Suddenly, two of my fingers were stuffed up my nose. Christ! The indignity of it! But I realized that with my mouth and nose stuffed, I couldn’t breathe, and maybe I would die before anyone noticed. I prayed for this. But then Zakary yanked my dick out of my mouth. I could breathe and would continue to live through my torment.

I watched as Zakary slid a tube into my dick and then forced something down the tube. He pulled the tube out and announced, “I’ve filled Caleb’s dick with a puree from the brain of one of Caleb’s favorite victims.” Then Zakary began to cut my cock into round slices. Even the cockhead. Everyone watched, including me, as he laid the rounds on a small cooktop and heated them, both sides, until they were crisp. All remnants of my huge, glorious penis disappeared down their throats in minutes. Then I heard “will the rest of him taste as good?”

They all stood around me, each holding a small sharp knife, perfect for cutting small pieces out of a carcass. “Zakary has the honor of taking the first bite. Then Caleb is open to everybody. To keep him alive as long as possible, please try to cut flesh without severing an artery. I’m putting this bucket under his feet to catch the blood that drips down his legs. And do NOT touch his eyes. We want him to enjoy the scene. Enjoy watching us enjoy his body. Enjoy seeing his own body being eaten as he has eaten so many.”

Zakary leaned up and kissed my lips. “Sweet man.” Then he cut swiftly and removed my lips. As the others pounced, I saw my reflection. My mouth now a bloody hole revealing teeth and gums, looking like a cartel victim in one of CDG’s videos. I felt teeth sink into my bubble butt, grinding and gnawing, trying to break through the thick muscle, and then giving up and cutting out a big chunk with the knife. My nipples disappeared quickly. Pliers yanked at my tongue and it was cut from my mouth. My biceps were a favorite target, but so were my muscular thighs and calves. Ears gone. Nose gone. A slicing sensation on my back, and then the hideous pain of skin being peeled off. Cross-carving of my abs. Pecs sliced off, leaving me strangely flat-chested. Flat-assed, too, as someone removed my entire butt and laid the glutes on the table. All this occurred slowly, deliberately. My friends knew how to draw out the mutilation, to keep me alive, to keep my heart beating and my blood flowing. They worked slowly, leisurely, often stopping to talk about me, or to sip a beer or a cup of my blood. They knew I was an exceptional victim, a treat to linger over. Extend their pleasure. And, inevitably, extend my torment. The pain was unbearable, but I had no choice. I must endure the pain without any hope of passing out.

Someone shoved a piece of flesh into my mouth. “Have a bite of yourself, Caleb. You are so delicious!” More derisive laughter, as a big piece of my butt was wedged between my teeth. These were my friends, mocking me and making obscene jokes as they chewed my flesh, and as my blood splattered their naked bodies. I understood, and didn’t hold it against them. A week ago, we consumed a boy and joked in much the same manner. Lust changes you. Especially the lust that enables you torture and kill and eat another man. I swayed slightly with each hack and cut into my body. I could not resist. Could not cry out. Could not let them know how hideous the pain was that they were inflicting. No, I could only hang motionless, suffering, feeling warm blood run slowly down my torso and legs into the bucket that they dipped their cups into.

I’ve been in this room so many times with my fellow cannibals, tearing apart a beautiful man, reducing him to a puddle of bloody gore, eating his flesh and drinking his blood, masturbating on his carcass as we consumed it. It is erotic, this cannibalistic lust. The purest of sexual ecstasy. The attainment of Heaven. The human becomes an exquisite banquet. A platter of meat set on a table, to be consumed and be enjoyed with a fine wine. A sublime banquet of flesh and blood, the finest of cuisines. I watched them in front of me and in the mirrors, feasting on a man, enjoying another communal meal. The slaughter and the feast become one. Tonight, I could not join in their boisterous camaraderie, for tonight I was the feast.

I stared at the mirrors and, despite my pain, I found it strangely erotic to witness the destruction of my own body. So many times, I stood in front of a mirror and jerked off to my reflected magnificence. My ego had been stroked by the envy and lust that others felt toward me. Even as we killed a young beauty, eyes in the room inevitably focused on me. And I loved it. I was again the center of attention in this room, but not as I desired, not as a participant but rather as the object. Still, watching in mirrors as my body was being slashed and mutilated, I was aroused. Of course, my cock and balls had long since been hacked off, but somehow, I was experiencing the erotic arousal that comes with the mutilation of a man. I saw myself gutted and skinned and scalped, encased in a suit of sticky crimson, muscles reduced to mere sinew. Saw the joyous ecstasy of my fellow cannibals as they consumed my body. Then felt an immense surge in my groin and a massive eruption, spraying my friends and flooding the room with endless streams of my thick creamy cum.

This all happened in my mind, of course, for at that moment my eyes stared blankly. I was dead.