eat me two ways

My meditation seldom goes so well but my visualisation is concrete today. I hold steady the image of the rabbit in front of me, crystalline and perfect, a sense of motion captured in amber. “El-ahrairah,” I murmur, the name of a mythological figure meaningful to me.

Each strand of fur. I hold it perfectly present in my mind’s eye. Unshakeable: even my fast-beating heart doesn’t cause the image to waver.

What’s changed?

I tentatively reach out a hand. Step four: animate it. The rabbit fulfills the leap it was conceived performing, arcing gracefully away from me, before rounding and regarding me with bright, somber eyes.

Personality. Can I give it personality?

“Yes,” intones El-ahrairah, with a surprisingly deep voice. It squats, held at bay. “Though you must ask: is now the time to do it?”

In my meditation I picture standing. The soft darkness surrounding me retreats as my vantage point rises. “When better? I can never focus like this!” I spin with arms outstretched, marveling at the permanence. “I didn’t expect you to be so cautious, Rah. I thought you would be more… quicksilver.”

“Caution is right when there is danger.”

“But your whole thing is cunning and trickery!”

The rabbit doesn’t respond but hops toward the perimeter of the darkness. It stands on hind legs, scenting the air… then settles back down into a compact loaf. From the rapid twitching of its nose I perceive concern. “We are not the ones performing a trick. How did you get here?”

I open my mouth to answer, but halt. Nothing. “I don’t know.”

“Then… Can you leave?”

I furrow my brow. I can feel myself actively maintaining the mediation, but… something prevents me from deciding to stop. I try again to wake up. Nothing.

“… Fuck.”

Rah sprints rapidly across the circle of light like he’s ready to spring for it, but halts before the final leap. “I cannot leave.”

“I know, I’m trying to project you somewhere else, but…” I tut and spin around again, more slowly this time. “Not at all like her tulpa.”

“What tools do you have?”

“Hm. My name.” I stare out into the impenetrable darkness and set my stance. “An—”

I muffle off into silence. El-ahrairah looks back at me. “What is it?”

I can’t respond, instead making increasingly desperate muffled noises and trying manually to part my lips. “Mmph! Mmmmmph! Mmph?”

The hot feeling on my mouth disappears with the paralysis. “—n’t move! Wait…”

I stare abstractly into space, trying to comprehend what I just experienced. “Let me try something. She said I could use her name for this. R—”

I don’t get any further. The heat comes back at my neck and races to my heart like wildfire through dry grass. I stagger backwards as though shot, gripping the side of my neck.

“… Oh. I remember a little, now.”

I was meditating, this is true, with neither more nor less success than I normally experience. My door opened. You sat opposite me. When I tried to open my eyes to see you you said “no,” quietly but enough to stop me.

I relay this to Rah. Figment of my imagination as he is, surely he already knows. “… And then I tried to visualise you and here we are. It’s R—” the next pulse of heat brings me to my knees. It burns just below the pain threshold, wrapping me from neck to chest and gently crisping my flesh from the inside— “It’s her. She’s toying with me.”

“She won’t hurt you?”

“Oh, she’ll hurt me.” I lift my forearm and watch gentle scald-marks appear, a lazy pink trail from wrist towards pulse point by the biceps. “I think she’s drunk from me just now. And look. Her lips are here.” I brandish my forearm. Rah peers at it, whiskers twitching side-to-side. “We just have to hope she doesn’t hurt me to destruction.”

The rabbit gives me a look. “You don’t sound too worried.”

I give a helpless shrug. “Well. It’s win-win, isn’t it?”

The rabbit does not understand this, but wisely remains quiet.

“She’s out there. She can hear us, or otherwise sense when we say a name. Um. Alright, I’m going to—hah—invite her. Maybe she’ll talk.”

I clear my throat and brace myself. “Raven— ah” Something—your bite?—tears though me like lit lighter fluid under my skin, flash-lit, from ribs to one side of my face. I have to go again. “Raven!” Another pulse of heat and my vision goes white as pain scours me across the eyes. Still one more: “Raven…”

I come to awareness still on fire. My eyes open to see little silvery motes flaking off me. I follow their little mote-in-sunlight dance away from me and up, up, up… till they settle on your body, flashing and disappearing where they touch your skin.

“…be here,” I say, completing the formula I have used every time I fed myself to you, back before this became so real.

You’re standing over me, stroking my projection, or tulpa, or whatever it is, in your arms.

I smile from the ground. “Hi.”

“Hi. Don’t get up.” You smile back; then your eyes flutter closed a moment. There’s rhythm and abandonment in your body language: the hips sway, the shoulders heave. “Stay right where you are. I’m going to take more of you.”

Something about the way your hips move… I look past the deep-fat-fryer burning sensation centred on my neck, searching for clues as to what is happening in the physical.

There. More heat. Gorgeous heat. You’re using me, probably having laid me down in my own protective circle, simply taking what you want. You take more: I release a low moan as fire ripples out in a slow pulse, retreating but then flowing further, washing me in gentle magma as somewhere out there you pull down my life’s blood into your tummy, there to slosh back and forth as you grind yourself against or around me.

“Don’t… scream…” you murmur, shining eyes in turmoil as you stare down at me. A vision of the real world flickers before my eyes: your full breasts pressed against my chest and rocking your bum raised then gliding down, eking out what pleasure you can take. “Prey… screams…”

I hear your physical body gulp down a noisy, messy mouthful of my blood and just barely hold my shit together. I don’t scream but just whimper: wreathed in flame, parts of me blow away in your draught and are swept into your orbit. You catch one on your tongue like a snowflake.

The circle of darkness is getting closer. El-ahrairah is still solid, but it doesnt matter. Your orgasm gathering, you raise him up above your wide-open mouth. He kicks and dodges, but your timing is exquisite and, in truth, I’m pierced by your teeth. You snap him up in two bites, that newly expressed part of my soul eclipsed by yours, engulfed, kicking for its existence inside your wildly bucking belly.

But the end is never in doubt. You cum. I manage—just—not to scream. The part of me you ate submits and melts. My heart pushes another mouthful of blood into your alimentary tract. You eat me two ways and leave me breathing.

“Rest,” you command, in a gentle voice. “You are safe.” As if to give the lie to the words you kneel down in the vision and place your lips a centimetre from mine. I strain to kiss you, but you keep the distance. You know what might happen if we touch in this place when I’m so weak. “Let me in. I’m going to borrow your body to cook burgers.”