Today’s “creative visualisation” coping strategy: I shrink them down really really tiny, strip them naked, then put them in a Chinese takeout box. I breathe all over them. Then I vomit a little, close the tabs, and shake the carton around.
The vomit seeps into them. Gets in their eyelashes, their nostrils. A chunk gets stuck in their navels. Their hair gets matted with it. Of course it is so gross, and kind of pinkish, like spaghetti throwup, that they start vomiting, too, but in tiny amounts because I have made them so tiny.
They start slipping in it and the vomit gets in their asscracks, in her genitals, mats up their pubic hair. There’s vomit in between their fingers, in back of their ears. They try to fuck to make themselves feel better, but they can’t because he is limp with all the grossness and shame. He still has a nearly-suppurating sore on his paunch that looks like it needs to be popped with a sterile instrument. The acidity of the throwup irritates it and he begs her to suck it clean.
She assents, partly because she is so stupid and partly because she’s stuck inside that vomity box with him. How will she get out? I decide to turn the box upside down. Then… I stick it in the freezer.
The end.
Otohime 