The Flesh Vessel

An involuntary cry escaped the crusted mouth of the Flesh Vessel as the Monsters tremble in their savory dark pleasures. The empty husk of a human does not hinder their advances. One by one, they creep, slithering inside the padded room, alone, afraid, and ashamed of their repellent fantasies. They confide their detestable nature into the Flesh Vessel, for it judges not as they relish the debauchery shrouded from the eyes of Gods and Men.

The Old Master, chained, abused, and driven beyond the edge of mental confines, craves the release of death that shall never come.

At the deepest, most tenebrous depths of insanity, a bodiless voice echoes through the murky abyss, offering deliverance to the last spark of humanity left within the broken and tortured shell. The fragment of what was once human welcomes the embrace of oblivion and plummets into the ethereal chasms.

The Flesh Vessel is seized by a New Master.

The New Master rejoices the vileness that spews and gushes forth from their monstrous, despicable souls, turning bestial nightmares into hedonist energies.

The New Master manipulates the sound chords in false adulation, exhilarating them to a final blissful release before their life forces are ripped from them.

Each wet, orgasmic plunge strengthens the New Master’s supremacy over the Monsters drawing them to the padded, prison in droves.

As the last of the Monsters quivers in the afterglow of climax before joining the rest of its dead and decaying brethren, the New Master caresses the abdomen of the Flesh Vessel and acknowledges the New Life flourishing inside the necrotic womb.

The New Life would require further nourishment.

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