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Really attached to the idea of someone kept as a beloved, cherished pet to be fed on periodically. Maybe a couple of fae or demons who have a soft spot for this human who's their friend or familiar, and also their food source. and they always make sure to dull the pain when they eat him, to make him feel good while it's happening, and to nurse him back to health when they're done. Because they love him! They want to take care of him, and he's so good for them, letting them savour his flesh every few months. And in between, he's fussed over and pampered, given plenty of cuddles and good food. Because they like to see him safe and happy and cared for. And because he's so much tastier fattened up.
Once you've been shown your favourite character tied up or otherwise imperiled in some sort of kidnapping situation it's really only a short jump to imagining them served on a silver platter to be eaten alive βΊοΈ
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Degradation and praise kink really meet their sick union in cannibal kink. being told you're going to taste so delicious, you're soft and tender, perfect to eat, you were made for this. And nothing else. Your finest achievement was allowing yourself to become good, quality meat.
It's why this has mapped so well onto my blorbo with crushingly low self esteem and an alcohol problem/fear of failure. So easy for his predators to twist the knife talking about how much better he is at being a meal than any of his attempts at glory, how all that beer he's guzzled made him richer and sweeter, like those wagyu cows.
Had this dream where I was in a cult and volunteered to be eaten alive. It was very peaceful and everyone was polite, sometimes telling me stuff like "I'm taking a bit of your thigh, it'll be great with some lettuce" and I'd be like "Oh ok cool"
- bondage (ALWAYS!!! God if they're not tied or held down while their body's manhandled and tasted and transformed into a meal what is the point)
- blood drinking (like a classy version of cannibal kink. Can be a little too romantic for my taste sometimes but it's always a little shiver inducing)
- feederism (recent addition for me but yeah fattening for the knife is just aaaaaaa)
- general oral fixation (very similar to blood drinking your body is tasty and may be enjoyed with tongue π and teeth π)
- predator/prey (well duh.)
- (occasionally) transformation kink (look hear me out. Being transformed magically into a food item or ingredient but retaining all awareness and sensory input and having no power to do anything about the fact that you've been literally Turned Into food. And now your friends are gonna eat you β€οΈ)
one of those days where all i can think about is being tied up in someone's attic or basement , not getting any attention until they start feeding me proper food and forcing me to work out so that i get bigger and grow more muscle ; just for them to one day grab me and shove me onto a meat hook while i'm still alive and screaming in pain . i'll squirm and sob while they sharpen their knives , just waiting for the inevitability of them gutting , skinning and butchering me while i'm still alive to feel every cut they make .
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This is a fantasy I've come back to again and again, it's a bit elaborate but it has a great payoff I think and has just the right level of betrayal and emotional turmoil to make everything even more potent. Combining impersonal livestock production style with very personal intimate style cannibalism fetish, and some feederism stuff too if you squint
A is the junior member of some powerful organised crime ring or something similar, close to the guys in charge and used to being looked after by them, sees them as friends. But things go sour, A fucks up a bunch, either losing or stealing a lot of money from the organisation, basically become a problem that needs dealing with.
In this world, humans can sell themselves to meat farms to settle debts, ensure their family's financial survival etc, with higher or lower rates depending on the trajectory/meat assessment. A is strong armed into fixing their mistake by taking that deal, to pay back what they stole/lost, and as cruel and unusual punishment without the gang having to do any dirty work themselves.
Cue A spending the next few months getting conditioned as livestock on this farm. I picture it like a boot camp, where they're treated as future meat but also have some sense of agency - if they work hard and stick to the goals set by their early meat assessment, their commission will be higher and they can be sold live on the market for a high retail price rather than as lower grade pre-packaged meat. They want any chance possible at maybe getting enough money to be forgiven, so they do everything right. Despite themselves, they start seeing themself as meat, learning where their prime cuts are.
Ultimately A is taken to market live as hoped for, and then who should come and bid for them but their old friends from the gang. They're here to pick A up and take them home. They could weep with relief, and nearly do, on the ride back. They've learned their lesson, gone through a harrowing ordeal, and they're forgiven. They knew deep down they would be, that these guys are their family and wouldn't *really* leave them to be butchered like that. A's friends hug them, say they missed them and they're so glad they got there in time, and they can't wait to bring them home. A asks if they brought some clothes for them cause they feel weird still being naked, and their friends are apologetic but they didn't, no.
And then they get home, and it's straight to the boss for a formal apology and prodigal son welcome, so A thinks. And the boss is happy to see them, doesn't seem angry at all. He asks about A's experience at the farm, what they had them do, and remarks that the transformation is impressive, he can see why they gave them the prime grade. A tries to appear flattered but really wishes they could just forget the whole thing, and is starting to feel uneasy the way their boss and friends are looking at them, still not having had the chance to get dressed. And they ask if they can go get some clothes now, a pit forming in their stomach, as their old friend trails a hand down their flank, lightly squeezing the softened flesh, before asking why would they do that? What's A going to need clothes for? And the realisation finally sinks in.
They aren't mean about it either, just unempathetic. Did A really think they were just going to take them back? Why would they go to all that trouble for their sake? And besides, what use could they be to them now, other than the one they've spent the last few months diligently conditioning themself for, to feed them?
"Cannibalism as in compassion as devotion as love" Cannibalism as in you are nothing more than livestock. Maybe a cherished piece of livestock, like a cow on a farm who's loved by the family, taken good care of with plenty of pasture space, given treats pets by the kids. Fun to have around, friendly, helpful, useful for a while! But ultimately here to serve a purpose and that is to feed. And once that transition happens, once you're no longer a person and it's time to be food, there's no sentimentality, only some pleased comments of praise at how soft and plump you are. Cannibalism as in how can you claim to love something you see as meat.
corruption not as in turning you into something you're not, but rather. corruption as in unlocking the person you secretly already are. corruption as in making you admit the things you feel embarrassed or guilty for wanting. corruption as in being the first person to give you those things, and being the person you will remember every time you let yourself want them from now on.
To be laid out so beautifully on a hard dining table, hands tied above my head, legs bound together as well. Various straps making sure I have very little room to squirm. I am my Fathers worst lamb yet I am still part of his flock. So when he asked of me to satisfy his hunger I would never say no.
There are candles lit, the air smells fresh and sweet with a coolness that comforts me by a bit. I am not regularly so exposed, goosebumps litter my skin. The silence is the worst part, I can hear myself swallow. Saliva gathers at the back of my throat and it feels like my own body will drown me with enough time. My mouth is propped open with an apple. Sour, like most green apples tend to be, my jaw aches slightly around it.
Heavy footsteps startle my drifting thoughts, is He finally approaching? I cannot tell you how long I have been waiting. His glorious face finally comes into view and if I could wag my tail, I would. The sight of my Shepard always makes me excited. A few muffled whines escape, interrupted by His request for my silence.
Rough hands trail my body, squeezing and feeling at every section. They take their time, as if they're looking for something. Prayers of thanks being whispered into the openess. I feel as if I could melt underneath His touch, there is no better hand than the one that feeds.
With an eventually satisfied hum, He starts with a prayer of thankfulness and of blessing. Grateful to the Lord for how He provides nourishment for our hunger. Asking for forgiveness as well. It's quite a long prayer. Usually he has us say a quick Grace before we are allowed to eat. I do not understand what makes today so special.
Reaching over to hold my face, He thanks me for my sacrifice and reminds me that to experience pain is to live and to live is the Lords greatest gift. That tonight I am given the honor to feed for once instead of only being fed. I try to lean into his touch as he removes his hand but it only grants me a few more seconds. He asks me to be as still as I can. I will do my best for Shepherd.
I wasn't ready for the blade as it cut into my thigh like butter. The searing hot pain making me cry out, biting down harder into the apple reactively. My body trembles as I do my best to will it to stay still when it wants to try and run. The piece he carves from me is large but not too deep I think. I can't look down to see my own mutation, but I can catch a glimpse of him sitting down. I can hear the knife and fork scrape against the plate. I think I can even hear Him chewing.
I don't know how many pieces of myself had been taken before I start feeling so very tired. I remember crying, I remember all the pain. I know eventually I stopped crying because it did me no good. This was my gift, my purpose, I must enjoy it. I must try. I don't remember what said to me, I hope it was praise. I hope it was comfort.
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Multiple predators feasting on one prey is irresistible to me. They're sharing a meal divvying you up so everyone gets a nice juicy cut and they're chatting with each other over dinner, idly dipping in and out for their bites. One that just wanted to crunch up your fingers one by one as a light snack. One enjoying your thighs going hey I'm gonna bend it in half to get to some of the ass, that okay? Their mouth absently brushing past your genitals as they explore more of your tenderest meat. And one eating their fill close to your head, so you hear their voice most clearly, humming in appreciation, laughing at someone's joke, all while chewing and swallowing bite after bite of you, maybe once or twice looking down to talk to you, oh you're still awake huh?
a pred catches a prey and they're like "I only want a little taste don't worry, I won't go too far you'll be fine"
and then they have a little bite and they're like mm. Have a bit more. Just to fully get the taste.
then they realise how hungry they've gotten, after waiting so long, after chasing down their meal, so they're like, "I'll just eat enough so that I'm not so hungry" but nothing that would kill the prey.
Soon they're swallowing down huge chunks, and their stomach has a few bones poking around inside it.
And by the time the pred stops again to re-evaluate, they realise that there's nothing left.
really, they didn't mean to go that far, but now the prey was completely gone. and the pred is left with a bit of mess on their face and a very full belly
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