The Crematorium
by Stephanie M. Wytovich
The smell of leather excites me
Reminds me of the belt you tied me up with
But now it's you on the cold, metal slab
Entering the fire through the open window
The soles of your feet caught first
Your screams filling the soundproof room
As you pissed yourself from the pain,
An acrid, bitter smell lingering in the air
Your begging made me horny
As your sweat began to sour
And your black skin peeled off
Revealing a juicy, medium rare pink center
I couldn't help but to salivate
The fire ravaged your thighs
Eating away at you hungrily
And I'll admit,
I love the smell of charred flesh,
And watching your manhood burn
Made me wet
Stephanie M. Wytovich is a senior at Seton Hill University where she is a double major in English Literature and Art History. Amongst having numerous publications, the most recent being her poem "Lipstick," she enjoys painting and playing the piano. She plans on attending graduate school to pursue her doctorate in art history and creative writing with aspirations of teaching at a graduate level.