Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25723558-20141222185936

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I wanted to write a story involving darkness, self-destruction, and perishing life. I wanted to take the concept of death represented by an out of place alive tar pit, and the lead character sacrificing animals and a person to it until finally he sacrifices himself. I wanted it to show the dark fascination with death and the sexual pull of it until the character was entombed in a blackness of painful pleasure. However, I am not so sure NSFW was really meant to be 'death porn.'  And I am unsure if my story would be removed it I posted it there. Please read and reply, as it is not my intent to post stories that will be pulled. I tried to look around the genre page and I saw a story called 'Snuff Film' so I assume I'm more of less safe from getting my story pulled. But, I wanted to check here before angering anyone.



I'm not exactly sure when it first appeared. This isn't the right kind of land for this type of thing to form naturally. In my backyard, down the hill near the river, there is a tar pit. Perhaps it was created artificially, though I doubt that this is possible. At first glance, it doesn't attract much attention to itself. In the fall it gets mostly covered up with leaves. In the winter it freezes over; again, not really sure how.



In the spring and summer it is exposed. My property, left to me by my parents, is rather secluded from most people. It's a regular sized house far back on a country road atop a hill. The neighbors have always kept to themselves. The pit is too small to capture the attention of authorities. Even with their weed-copter, the pit sits so still that it looks like reflecting water. An almost obsidian scrying mirror.



One day in the summer I heard the cows mooing rather much more earnestly than usual. I looked out my dining room window to see that a small bird had landed in the tar. It had become covered in the midnight slickness and couldn't free itself to spite many frantic attempts to take flight. It tried to pick at the sludge, only to get its beak glued to its feathers. After exhausting itself entirely, it simply sank into the hole.



I suppose I should have felt some sort of sorrow or remorse for this small creature. However, I never much liked birds. Their colors were pretty and their songs delightful. However, they pooped everywhere and carried awful disease. The sight of one of these airborne nuisances being slowly swallowed alive into death over its own idiotic curiosity somehow pleased me. It formed an inner jolly to see something so many see as pure be defiled with filth and dragged against its will to its grimy grave.



After all, I didn't cause it. Nor could I have likely saved the thing. I had no real knowledge about saving fowl. I've seen commercials where volunteers used Dawn to remove oil from birds during spills. But, I wasn't about to handle the diseased thing myself. Nor was I going to call the authorities and have them find this tar pit in my back yard. It's likely against some ordnance and would end up being rather costly to remove. I didn't want it gone, either. It was a visible, black stain on God's creation. It reminded me of the rebel in myself, and I didn't want it sanitized.



There is no animal control in this small town. I learned that while pushing carts in at Krueger's. One day a snake had taken residence under a row of carts. We tried to call animal control, only to find none existed. The police were called instead; but never bothered to show up. My manager lead the snake to the side of the store with a stick and killed it. Or, at least that's what I assumed. He said he took care of it and that it was best I didn't ask for more details.



This entire situation here with the bird was just the way of nature, I suppose. Things die all the time; eaten up by the abyss that they crawled out of. All of us must someday return to the void from which we formed. It is the cycle of things. That said, a Devilish idea came to mind. What true harm would there be in helping some more critters along their way? There was a distinctly perverse arousal that germinated from that thought. A deep satisfaction in the very notion of watching something that is beautiful, cherished, delighted in by others be slowly and persistently enveloped by death. To watch the Venom-like fingers of rot stitch their way up its back and sides like a web. The more it would struggle, like the bird did, the more this puddle of tacky ilk would wrestle with it; inching ever closer to devouring it fully.



To see again some small innocent creature fruitlessly fight for its life in terror as an impending demise punished each pull for freedom it took. The entire ordeal reminded me of my life. That each time I tried to make things better for myself, I was only ever punished for my efforts. The lesson being, if one wants to live, that it makes far more sense to sit still and stagnate in death. That way, it will consume me slowly.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I tried to be a good person, for reasons I could not define but felt compelled to attempt. I pushed this idea out of my mind for a week. However, like the tar itself, it kept inching its way further onto me the more I fought it. The more I fought the idea, the more seductive it became. The more forbidden it was. I realized what I was doing. Like my many sexual debaucheries, the more I denied myself beforehand the richer the affront to God was when I finally gave in to my twisted perversions.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">One night, after I got off work from one my closing midnight shift, I made my way upstairs to my room. I sat on my couch and tried to fight it. There was a numbness that came over my body, I felt almost robot in what I did next. I opened the metal door to my hamster's habitat. I brushed away his bedding and started to pet my friend. I coxed him out of sleep with a small papaya treat. I scooped him into my hands, and walked down the stairs with him.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I opened up the door to the back yard and switched on the outside lights. I made my way to the pit, and quickly pushed him in. My heart sank. Instantly I was washed over with both a sense of regret and extreme excitement. I had just doomed my little friend to death. I was an awful person. I was going to Hell. It's not like I didn't know this already, but now I really knew it. The look of betrayal in his eyes was titillating. I kept apologizing to him while I laughed at his suffering. I smiled, while crying. I bunched up in a ball and rocked back and forth, trying to contain my emotions while soaking in the sight.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">He thrashed against the viscus soup. His little hands that once held mine like a child would hold a father's now coated in slime. He kept making sounds I never heard from him before. The anguish was palpable. He somehow fought his way to the edge of the pit, and tried to claw himself up to the grass. I started to move to kick him in with my shoe when all of a sudden the goo itself extended to retrieve him. I scuttled a few feet away in fear. It just sucked him in whole. Then let out a bubble. Did it just burp?

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I was overcome. I slid onto my back and felt the most amazing mixture of fear, disgust, and sexual gratification.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">“Good. Feed me more.”

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I didn't care how it sounded. I heard it in my mind. My entire body tingled. It was like black, sticky tendrils crept across my form. Each spot it touched felt like an orgasm. My legs and arms quivered.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">“What?” I asked out loud in a whisper.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">“Feed me more.”

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">The next night, I did just that. You see, there are a lot of ferrell dogs and cats in our small city. It never gets cold enough here to kill them off in the winter. So, they make little packs and come out at night to look for food. I stayed in my car and waited for everyone else but night stock to leave after close. I waited until some of the dogs appeared. I petted a small lab. It approached me and looked at me with such earnest eyes. Clearly, it wanted a friend. I'm not sure if it had been someone's pet who ran away. It had no tag. I opened my passenger door for him and he bounded into place to sit beside me.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I had purchased a leash and collar that day during my break and fastened it around his neck after giving him a piece of bread. He was so fascinated with his food and so trusting of somehow who fed him that he didn't mind. I think he was just happy to have the attention. The other dogs looked in from outside the car, and started to bark. I turned the car on and drove home.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">“I'll name you Max. You should have a name.” Max looked at me and smiled.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I parked my car in my garage and lead Max out back with me.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">“Good boy. Who's a good boy?” Max's tail wagged playfully and we played catch out back.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">After about ten throws, I finally lobbed the tennis ball into the muck. Max walked up to the pit slowly, then turned to look at me as if to ask, “Do I really have to go in, Dad?”

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I walked up to him, petted him from his head to his lower back; then kicked him in. He yelped from the impact of the shoe. He barked so loud I was afraid he might wake someone up. But it was short lived, as a gush of gruel jutted like a water hose into his mouth and silenced him. All I could hear were frantic gargles from that point on. He started to suffocate. He tried to spit the tar up, but couldn't fight the force of it. His tail was stuck in it, and he kept pulling so hard that I thought it might pop off.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">The familiar feeling from the night before engulfed me. It hit me like a wall and I fell to the grass in ecstasy. I rolled back and forth like a dog, wallowing in wave after wave of pleasure. I looked up and saw that the beast had almost finished its meal. Only the tip of the snout remained visible. Several bubbles rose up, and then in one final thrash the whole form sank into the darkness.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">“Good. Feed me more.”

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I smiled the sadistic smile of a child who first discovered a forbidden toy. The next several weeks I would feed my new friend the other dogs from that pack until there were none left. I also cleared the parking lots of cats. The hunger of the pit tangled with me. I could feel its lust to devour life in my own entrails.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">One nite, I went online and filled out a nsa hookup post. I got several responses and eventually lead a young man of around twenty three back to my house. We watched some horror films and had some drinks. He was a nice guy, and I almost felt bad for what I would do next. I spiked a mixed drink with some aqua dots. He was too drunk to care what he was swallowing. When he noticed the pea-sized pieces of plastic pass down his throat, I told him it must have been some crushed ice.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">We made love several times until he finally metabolized the toys and passed out. I lifted his hand up and dropped it to make sure he was really out of it. He was. I then hoisted him from beneath his sweaty armpits and dragged him down the stairs; slowly, so that each thud of his feet didn't make too much noise. I dragged his limp body across the grass and into the pit.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">He didn't move for a moment, and he refused to sink.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">“Hop on.”

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">“What?” I said out loud.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">“I can't take him if he doesn't struggle. Hop on.”

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I didn't know what to do. I became afraid, not knowing how to get out of this. I couldn't just pull him from the tar, he'd be covered in it and know that I drugged him. But, I didn't want to get in; did I?

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">In an instant, his penis jutted up.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">“Hop on, take a ride.”

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I felt the arousal strike me like a bee sting. Instantly, my hole ached to sit on his staff. I couldn't help myself. I stripped completely naked and climbed onto his cock. As I dropped myself on his snake and yanked myself back up; each thrust covered more of him and myself with the tar.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">The feelings of pleasure were so intense I felt like I was high. There was not pain anymore, just a completely intoxicating pleasure pulsing through me. I wanted to die. I wanted to fucking die right now more than anything I have ever wanted to do my entire life. I could taste the sweetness of death kissing my mouth. A black tentacle thrust itself into my mouth and mated with my tongue. I was in Heaven.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Each strand of sick web that laced itself around my legs and arms felt like the warmest, most inviting touch of a lover drunk with lust. I gave myself to the pit. It started to pull on both of us. It took him in, inch by inch until nothing but his inches remained for me to continue rocking on. By this point, I was tangled beyond escape. Not that it mattered; I didn't want to leave.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I kept swallowing splooge after splooge of tar. It was nectar, venom, an intoxicating medley that made me more vicious and more high with each gulp. I wanted to die. I lusted to die. I craved to die and burn in Hell forever. I started chanting things I didn't understand. I couldn't control my body anymore. I felt a warm, fuzzy haze possess my mind. It felt so inviting. I felt like I belonged. It felt like it was stabbing my soul with sharp spikes of pleasure. Each shard a mirror to a sensual sin from my past. Each death throw was a back arching climax. My eyes felt like they would shoot from my face. I could feel myself spilling long ropes of seed into the gammy stank of death.

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<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Finally, I fell limp. The ooze made its way around the remainder of my body like liquid silk. I could feel my soul leaving my body, but not the sticky gunk. It pulled me from my body and down into the blackness. Each wave of pleasure it yanked me through hit me like a wave of bliss. The pain was erotic. I loved it as my astral body was hit with one rolling sensation after another. Each level a bliss more powerful than I could imagine. Each layer I felt had to be perfection; until the next hit. And finally, at last, I settled into the must sublime nirvana. <ac_metadata title="NSFW What is Safe for Category?"> </ac_metadata>