Primal Baptism

Imagine—thick, humid air, heavy with sweat, musk, and something metallic. The tang of blood coats my tongue before I even realize it. I’m lost in something raw, something primal—so deep I forget my name.

I can feel it, thick and warm, coating my skin like war paint. Blood. It drips from my lips, slides down my throat. I don’t know whose it is. I don’t care. My skin is a glistening canvas of crimson, dripping down my arms, soaking into my beard, sliding between my fingers as I press them into someone. Don’t know who. Don’t care.

Hands—everywhere. Tracing, grasping, digging into me. Nails scratch my ribs, fingers tangle in my beard, pulling, pushing, guiding. I give, I take. No hesitation. No thought. Just sensation.

Moans fill the chaos—grunts, gasps, the wet, sucking sounds of bodies devouring each other. Pressed against me, indistinct in form, they blur under the intoxicants flooding my veins. The drugs hum through me, a symphony of want and surrender. Light warps, twisting the blood into rivers of gold and crimson. My nerves shiver, every touch electric.

Ecstasy pulls me deeper, drowning me in sensation. Every brush against my skin is a promise of more. Nails rake down my back. My body shudders, vibrating, buzzing, melting into the writhing pool of flesh around me. The air is thick with sweet nectar—everything feels too good, too much, just fucking right.

My chest heaves as I press into someone, claiming them, claimed by them. I don’t know who I’m touching. No names. No gender. No ego. Just heat, breath, movement.

A sharp bite at my throat—a sting, then a tongue chasing the blood, lapping, drinking me in. Teeth graze my chest, lips following, mouths hungry. A tongue meets mine, and we swap iron and flesh between gasps and moans.

The chorus of unfiltered want builds, endless, bodies merging and breaking apart in an orgiastic chaos. Someone grips my throat. I gasp, pulse hammering beneath their palm. Nothing else exists outside this writhing mass.

There is only right now—this primal baptism of blood and lust.

I lose time. Lose form. Become nothing but sensation. Drowning in red, in heat, in hunger.

I never want it to end.

I surrender.

I dissolve.