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(This is a story I wrote when I was pissed off at my boyfriend. Needless to say unfortunately none of this could be enacted on his dumb body.)

She tore open his pale chest and dug her fingers into the soft gooey confines of it. His red and pink organs wrapped around her knuckles as she squeezed on them, her hands turning white from the strain she put against them. He cried and salted tears rolled down his face.

He looked towards her and begged her for a release into death. She kept him locked up against a large wooden constraint. The iron holdings grinding and cutting into the soft flesh of his wrists and ankles. He bled and his body was filthy. She did not bathe him, rather she preferred letting him sit in his own disgusting filth. Urine streamed down his legs as he pissed himself from the pain. It cleared out streaks of skin that had been previously caked in dirt and muck.

He cried pitifully, his head rolling around in his neck socket, trying to deter his brain from the stark realization of how she tortured him.
She was not loving, and she grabbed his face and forced him to look into her eyes as she hurt him. She looked at him with a merciless coldness. She did not speak a word while she did this to him.

He had initially began asking her why she would do these unspeakable things to him. They were once lovers, and she had given all of herself to him. He was foolish and disregarded the strides she took in trying to be what he wanted. She sacrificed herself and her morals and her interests for the sake of this man.
She tore into his heart and dug her fingernails deep in the thick organ casing. She has taken his ribs and forcefully cracked and broke them so she could have abetter view of his soft insides. She refused to talk and give this creature any hint of what she was thinking.
She had long since broken the binds he had kept around her soul. She cried for eons, waiting for him to turn into a person that was desirable, to no avail. She had been cut deep inside, and her brain furthered the disconnect she felt in regards to him.

She thought too much, and in this moment she released her grip on his heart and grabbed ahold of his long stringy stomach.

She pulled it out of his body and ripped it from the muscles and attachments. He cried and screamed in agonizing pain as she did this. His breathing was heavy and ragged, and his eyes had become dull and near lifeless. She reveled in this moment.
She let them fall and they slipped into a hot wet pile at his feet, still attached to his aching body by thin membrane.

She grabbed a pair of sharp scissors and jabbed them into his eye nearly three inches. She felt his body convulse and strain to leave its restraints. He began to seize from the pain and trauma, and within the moment he had bitten off his own tongue.
His mouth spurted blood and he cried with such furious sorrow at the pain. Red sanguineous blood seeped from his mouth and coated his throat and chest in messy strides of iron.
He shrieked with finality and lost his will to escape. He felt the dull and sharp pains that had been dealt to his body, and he laid limp against the wooden board. His wrists falling and resting against the sharpened metal guarding. He sobbed lightly but uncontrollably.

His brain was fading in and out of consciousness, and she watched his eyes fade from their former hue to lifeless orbs that stuck in his face.

She attached nodes to this body so she could monitor his heart rate and the level of his anguish. She left the room without a word, leaving him to sit in his blood and filth for another day.

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