Love in the Time of Anorexia Nervosa

An autobiographical fiction, or diary, that explores internal and external views; which is in essence an examination of personal secrets. It is about starvation and consumption. It is a reference to the intimate relationship between the voyeur and the object and visa-versa.

He Knows Nothing

With pursed lips the smoke pours from her mouth and presses down the cigarette sinks slowly into his skin and she lifts it to her mouth again. Pressing down it burns and he screams. She is unaffected. She takes the knife and runs the blade down his spine as the blood beads up. This will leave you with a scar she says. He says nothing. The smoke pours from her lips. She tells him to open his mouth and ashes on his tongue. She tells him to swallow. She begins to stroke her strap-on, backhanded, spitting in her hand she lubes up her cock. She rolls him over and secures his arms his legs. Each drag from the cigarette produces tension in the air. She gloves up and lubricates his hole with one finger then two. She starts slow and steady and then thrusts, He moans and cries. She is his rapist. Without emotion without hesitation she burns him again below the belly button. She releases one of his hands and places it on his cock. Jerk yourself off she says. He complies with her request. He strokes his cock and she thrusts inside of him. He buckles underneath her and she continues to ram him. Come in your own face. Come in your mouth, She whispers to him and his cock hardens. Come now! I cannot Mistress, he cries and She slaps him. She thrusts in deeper until he starts convulsing with a collapse.

Static Paralysis Parallel

He came stumbling in on crutches. I force fed him 15 fleets and plugged him. He lay on the floor helpless. I picked him up and had him sit on the furniture dolly. I tied him to the dolly with red ropes. I began wrapping his head with the bandage and then pulled him around in circles. Spinning Dizzy. I began my preparations by laying out the orange plastic on the floor. Untying him I pushed and he fell on to the plastic. With uncontrollable cramps he messed himself. I left him there. His equipment doesn’t work anymore and he stiffed me for the money. The smell was disgusting. So is he. I felt sorry for him. I busted his crutches and kicked him over and over. I am unaffected, detached.

You must think I am an awful person but I am a beautiful woman and he is a cripple.

The Midget

The midget is kept in an outhouse, collared and chained to the wall. He is four feet tall. He is a fat toad who crawls on all fours begging for any woman’s attention. He has no knees. His only purpose is to entertain my guests at parties and even then he is a bore.

My Pimp Daddy...

is a handsome man, a quiet man. I remember his voice, I remember his questions and his demands for me to perform for him. My tears and my suffering left me quivering on the floor and he taught me many lessons. He is not a cruel man but I was scared and I felt powerless. I longed to become his slut to feel his hands gripping my throat. Gasping for air, I felt weightless, the little stars and my daydreams. He brought in his slave to watch me, she was jealous but I felt a particular compassion for her. She said nothing but I felt as if he was showing me off. He too has secrets, dark and demented in the opinion of others, but I always felt that I had a particular understanding of him. I was powerless, so is she. He wishes to destroy her and I managed to avoid him but sometimes I have my dreams when I struggle to breathe. My lung capacity is shallow and the thin plastic bag sticks to my face. It makes me ugly and my vision blurry. He plugged my nose, my ears, and put a stocking over my head. Panic…I could only cry for help and he laughed at me. He told me to be still. I struggled against the restraints. He laughed. He punctured a hole into the plastic then wrapped my head in duct-tape. I felt the sensation of doom and little pricks. He brought me to my feet and walked me into another room. I was completely disorientated. I could hear him unzip his pants. I heard a trickle and a rush and the sound of water.

He kept dunking my head in the sink, he had hold of my collar and would bring me up for a slight breath and then I was under the water again except that I could taste that it was not water it was sour.

He bent me over and pinched me pulling and tugging on my lips. I felt a sense of loss. I had no way of reason. I could not determine or define a theory. I was dying of love. Love in the time of Anorexia Nervosa that is me. I am Anorexia Nervosa remember me and bring me flowers.

Do not leave me behind. I am a particular period of time that is timeless. I am sexual but I have a thin opinion of what it means to become an object. Perhaps these memories are meaningless to you and only meaningful to me because they are mine and these memories are the only thing I own that has value. Nothing ever happens in a particular order. Everything is convoluted... hazy. Tip toes and he makes me dance.