skygrl:

how IS everybody btw! whats happenin!!!!!

xxmusings:

Begin at the pupil. Work down to the gut. We will return to the gut, but first - the pupil. 

The pupil is vulnerable, more of a floodgate than a gateway. The target is darkness. The method is mistakenly considered the most complex ritual in human existence. 

Rest. Once you settle yourself in that dark spot, you must simply stay put. No sudden movements. Don’t get off at the next stop. Be still. You will be taken to the gut. 

You will be kind and commanding, in possession of your pupil-gut subordinate. The pupil-gut believes it is your equal, and your propagation of this illusion can be maintained easily with an occasional smile, skin-to-skin contact, maybe even the offer of a beverage. 

You now have the liberty act as you want. I, personally, have been coveting a new candle. It’s cold out, and my pupil-gut sits beside a fire with a warm beverage: lavender tea. My favorite scent. 

Conventions of physical human contact dictate that a pupil-gut stays put, even when they are in danger. Some theorize that this is based on a neurological deficiency, an inability due to some sort of occlusion or clog. 

Placed in front of a fire, like any mass with a melting point, it drips. I use a fishbowl. Smiling, desperate, but unwilling (or unable) to flee, my lavender-tinged pupil-gut dribbles while I stroke its hair and smile, the way I began. At the pupil. 

The details are messy, but cleanup is a breeze (providing that it doesn’t overflow.) I’ve gotten better at choosing smaller specimens.

The fishbowl fills. Typically, my pupil-guts are not aware of their fate, believing it to be nothing more than a weird sex thing until the deepest inches of their insides have been liquefied. 

Some women don’t care for candles. Many prefer sex toys or appliances. 

But I personally hate those artificial Yankee scents and relish in adding a new lavender votive with hints of marijuana, tobacco, and half-digested carnitas. Full of life. You just can’t buy a candle like that.