By now it’s fair to say that I need you. If you disappeared I would… actually I haven’t got a clue how to end that sentence. I’d keep the faith, though. Know that you hate waste. I’d be wasted if you went away and didn’t take me with you in one form or another. You don’t need me, though. We both like it this way. I spoil you and feed you, but you’re a hunter.

There’s a strong temptation to indulge every time I get to see you, be that food, fatality or another f-word. You lead a life that is still very mysterious to me so I treasure the time I get. We don’t always go to town, though. I can tell you’ve had a lot on your mind recently and, well, so have I. So when you invite me over today I bring a carrier bag that clinks.

You wake, in one place, in two different worlds, with one sensation. Urgency. I’m still asleep next to you when your eyes open. Heavy lethargy of heavy guts suffuses you—like a snake digesting a moose you could lie here lazy forever—except you’re not quite in the mood to demand I handle that function for you now. You rock your weight onto the edge of the bed, trying not to disturb me, but frankly there’s no way you won’t set the mattress bouncing around like a waterbed.

Not just Ben and Jerry’s. The hotel room air is perfumed by that most welcome scent: fast food. Like an entire human woman is not enough to satisfy your hunger, I brought you takeaway. Boxes from KFC chicken burgers of various descriptions litter the bed like shrapnel. You lick hot sauce from your fingers then sink your teeth into the last of them. Crispy-coated, succulent chicken breaks under your jaws’ assault.

You speak: “You’d really give up everything?” We watch her rock herself off the bed, arms still tied painfully behind her back. She stares now at the door like a lifeboat, and is probably unaware that she’s making desperate gibbering noises around her gag. Both feet hit the ground and she kicks herself upright. “I’d do anything for you. Absolutely anything.” Ten paces. That’s all it’ll take for her to slam against the door and earn her freedom.

You feel her moving for a long, long time. Longer than she has any right given the way her struggles force long, luxurious belches up your throat. You sway yourself to the minibar, swollen like a whale, and take both mini whiskies together in one hand. The other idly strokes your dick, keeping yourself hard. It would be impolite to be finished before she is. Something wooden cracks when you collapse backwards onto the hotel bed, but it still bears your weight.

Is it the moon? you ask yourself. Something about waxing gibbous brings the devil out in you. Like a man driven by a motor you leave your hotel with no plan, only an unfocused, hollow need. You hunger. For sex, companionship, blood, flesh—it’s unclear. On nights like this you could devour the world. You’re an attractive man so you find interest in most of the bars you walk into. But you’re picky tonight.

I came home, gave you a cuddle that lasted a minute, then went straight to the kitchen. Two hours later, dinner is served. I sit opposite you at the table. Other than losing the tie, blazer and top two buttons of my shirt I’ve not bothered changing. Between us is a second roast chicken and a formidable array of Sunday-roast vegetables, charred slightly in the oven and augmented with some strange choices.

“So fight!” I demand, voice rising stridently. “This is your one chance! Free yourself or die within the next hour—and wish it long before that!” Oh God, this is what I was doing. She comes alive beneath you. The vibrator kicks up to max gear and turns your legs to jelly. Her whole body writhes beneath you like she’s already eaten like she’s already inside and she tries to bring her chin to her chest but you’re there your fangs are right there and you’re so hungry and—

“Shh shh shh, relax your shoulders for me.” It takes a while—you’re poised ready to tear out her pretty white throat—but by degrees you manage to release some of the thrumming tension. “Good, good. And your hips. Let your belly rest on her.” This is easier because you’ve started already. Kilos upon kilos of soft fat mould around her body like she’s already inside. Some of that weight is not just fat but the structures inside, like the viscera she might slick her way through later.