Mother's flesh

Actually, I no longer saw her as my mother. In my heart, she was no longer human; she was just my bitch, my toilet. And she no longer saw me as her son. In her heart, I was the supreme master, possessing absolute authority over her; everything she had belonged to me. I often beat her until she was rolling on the ground, covered in bruises. She became increasingly addicted to the pleasure derived from being abused. Gradually, ordinary abuse was no longer enough for her. Finally, one day, I said to her, "Does Mommy know about ice love?" "What ice love?" She was clearly confused.
"It's the highest level of SM: death training, like suffocation, dismemberment, etc." "Won't I die?" "Yes, after I dismember you, I'll eat you and feed your organs to the dogs.
But when you're near death, you'll experience the ultimate pleasure of SM that I told you about before. Are you scared?" "Can you let me think about it?" "What if I don't let you think about it?" "Then I'll accept it. My son is my master." "Okay, think about it. I won't force you." The next morning, my mother took the initiative to say to me:
"Son, master, I want ice love." "Why?" "I've realized that ordinary SM has no meaning for me anymore. I want to leave my most beautiful self to my son, master, while my flesh is still edible, for you to enjoy. Ice love can end my life and thus preserve my eternal beauty." "Really?! You'd better think it over." "I've thought it over." Her attitude was very firm. "Also, after you eat me, master, the court will come after you. I'll prepare everything today, so everything will be fine, okay?" I agreed.
My mother transferred all her assets to my name. She called a close friend from her past, telling her that she and my father had divorced, that she was leaving for the south that afternoon, and that she would never come back. The next day, in the dog cage, my mother used her phone to send another message to that friend, telling her that she had arrived safely in the south, everything was fine, and she was preparing to leave the country, and not to worry. After turning off the phone, my mother said to me, "Now it's all good, no one knows I'm still here, we can begin." Looking at my mother's meticulous arrangements, I suddenly felt reluctant to give up. "I think we should stop." "Don't stop, Master, otherwise I'll die without experiencing ultimate pleasure, and that would make me very sad. Rather than die sad, I'd rather my son dismember me, I'd be very happy, please, my good son, Master." "Alright, then I'll really send you abroad to heaven." I couldn't bear to see her tearful pleading, so I agreed, and she smiled through her tears.
Before we began, my mother and I made love one last time. My penis plunged deep into her mouth and vagina, finally ejaculating directly into her eyeballs while she kept her eyes open. Then, I used my hand to penetrate her vagina, touching her uterus—it felt so soft and warm. When I came out, my hand was covered in blood, which only fueled our excitement. During our rest, I had her wash in the bathroom while I began arranging the room.
This room had been soundproofed; once the door was closed, no one outside could hear a sound.
After closing the door and turning on the light, I laid the large plastic sheet I'd bought the day before on the floor, then placed a large quilt on top, covered it with a brand-new dark red sheet, and placed several trays, rope, lubricant, gauze, a scalpel, a dagger, hemostats, and so on beside it.
My mother emerged from the bathroom, wearing a pair of brand-new 12-centimeter purple high-heeled sandals with a cute little red flower on them. My mother's body was snow-white, her breasts trembling slightly, and she even had a long braid—her full breasts and curvaceous hips made her even more beautiful and alluring. I stroked her thick, shiny braids and asked, "Why did you decide to braid your hair?" "So that after you cut off my head, it'll be easier for you to hold Mom's head," she replied, quite thoughtfully. I took a towel and dried her body completely. She stood in the middle of the blankets. Above her, under the floorboards, was an iron hook where a ceiling fan used to hang. I threaded a rope through the hook, pulled it down, tied her wrists together, and then hoisted her up, so that her toes just touched the ground, but she couldn't exert much force.
"I'm going to remove your body hair," I said. I took the hair removal cream I had prepared and applied it to her arms, legs, chest, and back. After a few minutes, I took a hot, damp towel and rubbed her vigorously. All the fine downy hair on her body was gone. My hands stroked her body up and down. "What smooth flesh! It feels so good," I exclaimed. As for her pubic hair, I plucked it out one by one with tweezers and put it in a small plastic bag to keep as a souvenir. As I plucked her pubic hair, I played with her clitoris. Her legs were already sore from standing, and they started to tremble slightly and sweat profusely. Her vulva was constantly gushing with vaginal fluid, and she was moaning softly,
"Quick, quick, fuck Mommy, I want it." "You slutty bitch, you're about to die and you're still trying to be a slut, die!" I grabbed a dagger and thrust it into her vagina, the dagger piercing right through her vagina and into her uterus. The intense penetration and tearing sensation stimulated her again. She twisted her large, plump buttocks and murmured, "Yes, I'm a beast worse than a pig or a dog, quick, quick, take Mommy's uterus out and cut me to pieces, oh, so good..." I pulled out the dagger, and her vagina bled again. I took a wad of cotton and stuffed it inside. "I hate it when you talk, now pull your tongue out first, stick it out!" Mommy obediently stuck her tongue out as far as she could. With my left hand, I grabbed a pair of pliers and clamped her tongue. The pain made her brow furrow, but she didn't cry out. With my right hand, I picked up a scalpel and first severed the ligament connecting her tongue to my left. As I cut, I pulled her tongue out. She gasped for breath. I finally saw that her throat was almost pulled out before I used the scalpel to cut her tongue off horizontally. It was over seventeen centimeters long, red and soft. This tongue, which had kissed my entire body countless times, now lay quietly on the tray. Now, my mother could only groan. I wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth with a cloth, then stuffed a large wad of cotton into her mouth, saying, "Swallow the blood, don't let it flow out!" She nodded. I squeezed her left breast, placed the scalpel against the upper outer part of her breast, and slowly applied downward pressure. The breast caved in, and with a soft hiss, the scalpel cut into her breast. She groaned, and a stream of blood flowed out. As I cut open her breasts with a scalpel, I used gauze to absorb the blood. The scalpel made a hissing sound as it sliced through her skin. She writhed, enduring the pain, her sweaty face tinged with excitement. After a while, I finally held one of her breasts in my hand. It lay warm in my palm, blood still oozing from where it had been, her heaving chest revealing her ribs. I placed the breast on a tray beside me and, supporting the other breast, continued cutting. When both breasts were on the tray, I weighed them—a whopping 3.6 pounds! Truly a 36-pound bust. I placed the two trays containing the breasts back on the ground beside her. Her breasts were white, plump, and delicate, the nipples like tiny cherries resting quietly on them. She looked at her breasts, now separated from her body, her face covered in sweat but unable to hide her excitement.
Her mother nodded, signaling me to continue. Significant blood loss had left my mother pale, her red lips tinged with a pale purple, adding to her cold, aloof beauty. I picked up the scalpel, changed the blade, and began to cut along her vulva, the skin, covered in pale yellow fatty deposits, quickly peeling back. I carefully cut through the thick, pale yellow fat in her vulva until my fingers could reach her vagina. With my left hand, I grasped the vagina and pulled it out, while with my right hand, I carefully severed the vaginal canal and the surrounding tissues. Slowly, I saw the uterus and ovaries. I continued to pull them out, peeling the uterus and ovaries away from Niu Niu's body. After more than ten minutes, I finally severed her vulva, vagina, uterus, and ovaries together. She stared at her complete set of female reproductive organs on the plate, overwhelmed with excitement, her eyes wide open, making indistinct whimpers. Her bladder, already shrunken and partially intestinal, protruded from the opening below, but I ignored it.
I grabbed a stool and placed my mother's right leg on it. I felt her knee joint with my hand. Now I was going to cut off her lower leg, shoe and all. My mother's legs were long and shapely; I'd wanted to cut them off and hold them in my hands for a long time. My scalpel quickly cut through the muscle and connective tissue between her lower leg and thigh along the joint. When I reached her femoral artery, I first clamped the artery with hemostats and then gently cut it. I placed her right lower leg, still wearing the high heel, upright against the wall in a transparent glass tank, soaking it in warm saline solution to prevent the remaining blood from clotting too quickly and causing lividity, which would affect her appearance. Soon, I cut off her left lower leg and placed it upright in the tank as well. Her two legs, still wearing high heels, reminded me of the plastic shoe mannequins in shoe stores. Without the support of her legs, my mother's hands obviously couldn't support her remaining weight. I put her down, untied the ropes binding her hands, and laid her on the sheets. I picked up the scalpel again and quickly dislocated her two arms along the shoulder joint. The significant blood loss had left Mom
somewhat weak, so I decided to end it all quickly and let her experience ultimate pleasure. "I'm going to cut off your head, are you ready?" She nodded slightly, a blush quickly spreading across her pale face, making her look quite beautiful. Her eyes were filled with excitement, and her upper body muscles began to tremble. I helped her sit up and tied her long braid upwards to the rope on the hook, causing her head to tilt slightly forward. Without limbs, breasts, or genitals, Mom looked strange. Suddenly, I felt an urge to urinate. "Open your eyes wide!" She raised her head, opening her eyes wide. Her eyes were still as clear as water. I pulled out my penis and aimed it at her eyes, urinating loudly, "Don't close your eyes!" After urinating, looking at her large, watery eyes, I had a new idea. "Since your eyes are going to be useless anyway, I'll pierce them with a needle." She nodded, her face quickly flushing again. I knew another orgasm had hit her. First, I touched her eyeballs with my hands, scratching and picking at their surface with my fingernails, and then gently flicking them with my fingers, like playing with marbles. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she kept them open, letting me do as I pleased. I took an empty syringe, aimed it at the center of her right pupil, and slowly inserted the needle, about three centimeters long, halfway in. I grabbed the syringe plunger and pulled it back, and some translucent liquid immediately gushed out of the syringe. Her eyeball quickly deflated
; I had drained it. I pulled out the syringe, and her right eyelid immediately closed. At this moment, her right eye was no longer slightly bulging outwards, but slightly sunken inwards. I squatted down and lifted her head. "Open your left eye!" Mom obeyed, opening her eyes wide. I brought my mouth to hers, took her left eye into my mouth, and gently licked it with my tongue. Her breathing quickened. Suddenly, I sucked hard, and felt a ball-shaped object in my mouth. I had sucked out my mother's left eye, and I bit down hard to sever the vein behind the eyeball. Blood flowed from under her left eyelid, which was quite stimulating. At that moment, I noticed that my mother's body was flushed. I asked her,
"Was sucking your eyeball stimulating? Did you have an orgasm?" My mother nodded repeatedly. I spat out the eyeball and rolled it on her lips. "This is your eyeball. Does it feel good?" Unexpectedly, she opened her mouth and took her eyeball in. I removed the cotton from her mouth, and since my mother no longer had a tongue, the eyeball rolled into her stomach. "Then I'll have to cut open your stomach first." Hearing this, she thrust her stomach forward. I put down the scalpel, went to the kitchen, grabbed a cleaver, and made a cut into her upper abdomen. The sliced belly flipped open like a book, revealing the snow-white skin, pale yellow fat, purplish-red abdominal muscles, and peritoneum clearly. As blood seeped out, the dark brown stomach, purple transverse colon, and red small and large intestines slowly emerged. I felt like I was butchering a pig. I found the stomach, dark brown.
I picked up a pair of scissors and gently cut it off, then sliced it open. Sure enough, the eyeballs were inside. There was nothing else in the stomach, because my mother hadn't eaten for four meals in a row for this moment. I put her eyeballs in my mouth, chewed them, and ate them. They tasted a little bitter, but it excited me. "Alright, now your final moment has arrived. I'm going to cut off your head. I'll eat your flesh, and feed your heart, liver, intestines, and stomach to the dogs. Enjoy!" My mother's previously limp body immediately reacted, flushing slightly with each tremor. I raised my hand and slapped her several times across the face, then kicked her on the back of the head, sending her flying. Luckily, her braid was thick, and it swung her back. I shoved my left hand into her mouth, grabbing her chin, and with my right hand, I picked up a dagger and forcefully slashed at her delicate neck. Her whole body convulsed, the flush growing stronger with each wave. Finally, in the instant of her spasm, I severed her beautiful head. Her body, devoid of limbs and genitals, fell sideways, blood spurting from her neck for over a meter. Her head dangled from the hook. I untied the rope from her braid, carried her by the head into the bathroom, and rinsed her head repeatedly in the bathtub. Then I hung the braid on the coat hook behind the door to drain the remaining water from her head. I took a hacksaw and went back into the room. I used the cleaver to cut my mother's body open at her navel, scooped out all her internal organs, and put them in a large bucket. My mother's big buttocks were still so alluring and sexy. I cut her charming anus in half along the midline of her perineum, then cut her two big buttocks apart, and then used the hacksaw to saw through the pelvic bones. Now, each thigh was connected to a piece of her big buttocks. My mother was completely reduced to a pile of dead flesh.
I filled the bathtub with water, preparing to wash my mother's severed limbs. Having been busy for so long, I was indeed hungry, and I decided to eat her right calf first. I took off her high heels, held her foot in my hand—her foot was so small and delicate. I stroked her foot, brought it to my mouth, and gently kissed it. The pink sole gleamed with a smooth sheen, five slender toes neatly clustered together, fine and soft interdigital spaces, five rosy and tender toe pads, the delicate pale pink flesh like double-petaled flower stamens, beautiful and alluring. The faint lines on the sole emitted a subtle, refreshing, fleshy fragrance mingled with a hint of sweat. The smooth, delicate, rosy heel, like a goose egg, gradually transitioned from the sole to a pale pinkish-white from the base of the foot to the calf, the back of the heel a milky white with a pale yellow tinge. The warm soles of her feet, flushed and incredibly soft from the sweat, gradually changed color from a delicate fleshy red to a very pale pink from the soles to the arches. Her five toes were almost a translucent pink, like a bunch of tender, juicy grapes. Touching my mother's feet felt like touching a baby's face; her entire foot was boneless, and pressing it against my cheek felt like a trembling little bird. The warmth, smoothness, silkiness, and moisture were almost intoxicating. I licked her long, slender middle toe; the faint saltiness of her sweat and the small amount of oil secreted by her sweat glands, combined with the soft, slippery fragrance, made me utterly intoxicated. I began to frantically lick her soft feet, first the soles, then between her toes, and finally sucking on each of her long, white, tender toes. My mouth rested obsessively on her ankle, her smooth, rounded ankles, her fair skin, and the silky, satin-like instep beneath my lips. The delicate veins on her instep were clearly visible to my eyes. The soles of her feet, which I glimpsed briefly, appeared even more supple, the cleanliness of her toes and the softness of her skin even more alluring; between her fragrant toes, five delicate, white toes nestled together in a close, even embrace; I sucked on each of her toes, each little fleshy nub being exceptionally adorable. Her soft, white soles were like fluffy, fragrant pillows, her arched insteps like clear, tranquil streams. Her glossy, pink heels, when gently massaged, revealed a slight yellow tinge, their white, smooth contours radiating a tender, loving quality. Her arches were slightly raised. I stepped forward and took her rounded heel into my mouth, licking it vigorously with my tongue, then gently biting it with my teeth. I licked upwards to her soles; they were plump and felt wonderful to lick. I knew I had to eat them later. My tongue then licked the soles of her feet, which were slightly redder and fleshier, but firmer than the insteps. Her feet glistened under my sucking and caressing, reminding me of crystal-clear pork knuckles. I decided to steam them. I picked up my mother's fair, soft calves and washed them under the tap, then dried them with a white towel. I held her tender feet in my hands, admiring them closely under the light. They were truly exquisite works of art, their softness as translucent as jade carvings. I brought my mother's feet to my lips, sucking on each toe once more. Then I put her high heels back on, placing them on a large white porcelain plate lined with water so that the heat wouldn't burn her delicate skin. I brushed honey onto her legs and feet, then coated them with cooking oil, making them look as clear as crystal. I put the plate containing her calves into a large steamer, and soon, the aroma wafted out, so enticing…
I began to wash my mother's dismembered body. My mother's strong arms looked delicate and boneless, and with her jade-like hand, she remained as alluring as ever in the bathtub. Her hands were exceptionally white, with long, slender fingers; a flashlight could almost shine through her palms. I carefully folded her two severed arms, wrapped them in plastic wrap, and then rinsed her lifeless, delicate breasts and soft tongue with cold water. The sensation seemed even more exquisite than on my mother's body; perhaps it was because I imagined them soon becoming my delicious meal. The fleshiest parts of a person's body are the buttocks and thighs, and these were also my mother's most sensual areas. After washing, her rounded buttocks remained white with a rosy tinge, glistening under the light. I dried each part with a towel, along with my mother's beautiful head, and put them all into the freezer. So much of my mother's fine flesh was waiting for me to savor slowly.
By this time, my mother's jade-like leg had been steaming in the steamer for over an hour! I carefully lifted the lid of the large steamer, and a plume of white steam rushed out, carrying with it a rich aroma of meat. As the steam gradually dissipated, the true form of the dish was slowly revealed—a sexy and alluring calf, still clad in purple stiletto sandals, lay quietly in a large porcelain plate. It was so beautiful, truly a beautiful meal. I put on oven mitts and carefully removed the delicacy, plate and all, from the steamer, placing it on the already prepared dining table. The aroma of human flesh was incredibly rich and enticing. The skin on the leg had changed from its original lotus-white to a pinkish-gray, with oil constantly seeping from it, making the small feet appear even more translucent. The entire leg was still steaming and fragrant. I couldn't resist the temptation any longer. I lifted the heel of the stiletto and bit into my mother's calf. Instantly, my mouth was filled with the taste of leg meat. This taste was unique, somewhat like rabbit meat I had eaten before, but with several indescribable flavors. After finishing the meat on her calves, I took off her high heels and savored the flesh on the soles of her feet. Then I took a bite of the meat on the ball of her foot; it was very fragrant, although there wasn't much meat. Then I bit into her heels; my mother's rounded heels were the meatiest part of her feet. I frantically gnawed at her feet until only bones remained. In no time, my mother's crystal-clear calves and tender feet were reduced to a pile of bones. I was no longer hungry. Looking at the pile of beautiful flesh my mother had left behind, and recalling the more than ten years we had spent together, I felt both fulfilled and a little lost. Facing this pile of fragmented flesh, I had forever lost my mother, the one who brought me joy with her laughter. But she left me with her most beautiful things. I had eaten her flesh; in my heart, she had gained immortality, eternal beauty!
[The End]

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