Seeking Vorarephile

Everyone told me: Don’t meet dates online. I’d fucked every eligible man on this coast before finally settling down. Before I met my man, my sexlife was boring as shit. I’m devoted now. No secrets. My husband knows my past, so ‘come for me,’ haters! We’re celebrating 2 years!

My friend Richie, my biggest critic, accused me of “fucking every guy with WiFi and a heartbeat.” But that wasn’t true. It had to be at least 100mbps.

Our love began when, chance, I found his ad on the internet’s seediest hangout. So depraved, it’s offline now. You can’t do it anymore. Sorryboutit. Craigslist Personals was the last desperate place of fun weirdos. Want something more hardcore? Two words: Tor browser.

On Craigslist, you might find: fetishists, S&M, BDSM, piss-play, furries, glory-holers, even an adult ba. He wanted you to come through and spank him. A regular circus of freaks, but I don’t judge. When I said FUN WEIRDOS that’s what I meant. Being open to new experiences is crucial.

When I found the ad, my curiosity piqued. I emailed him.

We planned a night to remember:

It began with dinner in a lavish restaurant. We gorged on a smorgasbord and two bottles of Duckhorn, Bordeaux. Followed the moonbathed coast, entwined on a starlit stroll. Hesitantly he whispered three words. We kissed. Passion burst from my chest, venturing to a more appropriate venue, we undressed.

A sterile room, stainless steel as promised, not some dungeonous torture place. Injecting anesthetic, he meticulously sliced my hand away as we made love. Every move, sensual. The pain, minimal. Waist: determinedly plunging. Hands: deft and gentle precisely striking confident incisions. A talented surgeon? Nay! This was an artist. I was a willing canvas. The most artful, harmonious homoerotic amputation in humanity’s history.

Have you seen a limb immediately following disarticulation? My glorious stump looked like a hock of ham, slathered with strawberry jam until the cauterization began. I’ll admit, in reliving this memory, I’m craving a Bacon&PB&J.

His expansive house permeated with smells of fingertips, spiced and seared to perfection. Together we indulged in a meal to top the night before, or any since. I met the meal with difficulty. I’d forgotten to mention my left-handedness — but I made due with my right.

Wonder what the meat is like? Chicken. Duh.

He has not once complained about waiting on me hand and foot. I’m of course completely limbless now. We’re adopting this month.

Technology’s amazing; you say it, the computer writes it. Whoever thought I’d meet the love of my life eating people online?

No! Goddammit, I said ‘meeting!’

Whatever. I’ll leave it.



Posted: 2yrs ago

You: Disease/drug free (required!). Desires to be waited on me. Desires to push boundaries of taboos. Desires to be consumed.

Me: Disease/drug free. Dominant male, hung, stable job (medical-field), seeking like-minded for long-term relationship. I want to consume you.

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