I loved bedtime.
Bedtime meant getting ready for bed.
And getting ready for bed meant cleaning my teeth.
I would spend upwards of 20-30 minutes picking at my teeth before I decided to brush. Every evening, I would gaze at myself in front of my bathroom mirror and poke and prod and brush and floss and scrupulously maintain every tooth from incisor to molar and back again.
First on the agenda, I needed to remove the small bits of plaque from my teeth. I reached down, grabbing the tiny metal hook on my way back up. I leaned in further, sensually close to my own reflection. I pulled the hook up and found my first victim.
*Scrrp scrrp scrrp*
Oh my. The wonderful, beautiful feeling of clean teeth. The noise was beautiful. It filled my ears with pleasure and my mouth with delight. I would often find myself scraping a tooth more than necessary, only so that I might hear the melody of metal on enamel. Few things gave me further pleasure than experiencing the slight vibration of bacteria loosening to form on the end of my specialized tools.
*Scrrp Scrrp Scrrp*
I continued to work on the first molar near the back of my mouth. A mountain of white began to form at the end of the hook. I stared in wonder at it, knowing that there was more to discover. As the lump formed, I began to traverse into stage two of the scrape: The disposal. As the small device began to hide behind the mound of crust, I knew it wouldn’t be long before it was lost. Knowing so, I withdrew the foreign object from the tooth, and pressed it against my tongue. I needed to save the precious debris. I needed to recycle it. It was a part of me, much like my arms or torso, and I needed to keep it with me.
I slid the dentist’s sickle across the ridges of my tongue, careful that the direction wouldn’t leave me with a nasty gash. The salty cocktail of saliva and bacteria coated my throat, and I groaned in delight as it worked its way down into the depths of my soul. This was the initial release, the first fulcrum that I would experience throughout the evening.
I swallowed.
And moved on towards the next tooth.
*Scrrp scrrp scrrp*
When I was younger, brushing my teeth was my only solace. Between parents screaming and children bullying, I was sure to be found in the bathroom, picking and prodding each tooth to fulfill some longing for cleanliness. You could say my first “experience” was after a visit to the dentist. Afterwards and more than once, I was found keeping to my own devices as I would watch dental assistants provide much needed care to patients within their offices. I had hard drives full of material to satiate the need that would arise in me. My teeth were my partner, and I would do anything to keep them satisfied.
*Scrrp scrrp scrrp*
“Oh yeah,” I found myself moving towards the front of my mouth. Shaving layers of plaque with every slide, my hands began to tremble. I was close to finishing the caninical foreplay. More and more layers piled up on the end of the probe. Slower and slower I pulled it down. This was it. The last big gulp before the beginning of the next leg.
I swallowed and expressed my gratitude through an extended “Ahhhh.”
Now, it was time to floss.
Though flossing was only my second favorite, after plaque removal, I still took immense joy in the slower pace. I pulled a strand from the box, holding it towards the light so that I might bask in the beauty. It glowed golden in my eyes. I wrapped the ends around my pointers, taking note to keep it tight. I loved knowing that my fingers felt snug, cutting into the circulatory systems, pulling it taught, so that I was in constant control.
And now it was time.
I widened my mouth and pushed my hands towards the back of my throat. The beautiful thread pierced the veil of pressed molars, and I began to work upward.
*Swef swef swef*
Oh my god. This was immaculate. It was as good as it had always been. I pulled back and forth, lingering among this crevice for a time. I felt the sweet release of built-up food being drawn out by the nylon pressed into my gums. I could hardly contain myself, and only stopped when I felt a sharp prick. Pulling the lascivious line away, I trembled under the pain, the pleasure, of the pool forming between the molars. Knowing that spitting up was a waste, I licked away the crimson, only for it to pinken among the plaque that was being held below.
And I began to work on the next tooth.
*Swef swef swef*
I had fetishized flossing from my early formation. At the dentist, I would beg and plead with the professional that I could still feel food between any two teeth, in hopes that they would continue with the threading of minty twine. At one point, my parents had found me flossing four or five times a day, and from my early puberty, I would spend every cent of allowance on the dental yarn, so that I might never stop. As I got older, I found myself eating popcorn at any time of day, chewing on the kernels in hopes of giving myself an excuse to excuse myself to the pleasure contained between the pulp. And though it wasn’t my favorite, it was a surefire way for me to succumb to my carnal desires.
*Swef swef swef*
Delicately adjusting my hands to thread through the cementum loom, I would slide, pull, wipe, lick and begin the process on the next gap. It took a bit longer than usual, as I knew that drawing blood was the only way to know that the space between teeth was clean. Every slide also brought the smell. Oh, how the smell activated a terrible temporal pleasure. Lightly decayed food gave way to a cacophony of olfactory affirmations, where, if I was sitting, would be towards the edge of my seat. My knees would buckle, my palms would cry, my heart would melt, every sensation was compounded upon exponentially by the next slip of thread. I was nearing the end, and the final chorus rang as I reached my favorite spot. Knowing it was raw from the intensity of the night before, this section of gingiva was always rubbed roughly, as I needed one last cuspidical climax to send me tumbling towards the next leg of what others might see as dental derision, and yet, I know it as primal pleasure.
I pulled the last bit of floss from where it had been knitted. Like other strands before it, I placed it into a jar, set beside the sink, where I saved each piece for a monthly meeting. At the end of each month, after my nightly ritual, I would bring the jar with me to my living room, where I would enjoy a late-night snack. I had strived to make my periodontal pleasure as waste free as possible. I would slide a piece of floss between my lips, so that I might catch any debris, either between each tooth or upon my tongue, that I might have an even grander cleaning the night after. Nothing ever brought me closer to God than these beautiful moments. As I had placed tonight’s used nylon into the jar, I almost spoiled my appetite, but the urge of future satiation kept me sated for the time being. In order to keep myself from temptation, I moved quickly to the final step of the evening: gum contouring.
I had a small metal file that was shaped into a wedge. It allowed me to manipulate my gums into whichever shape that I wanted, either exposing my teeth or shaping the gums. That was only a side effect. The initial burst of pain was what I was seeking. The pressure applied was perfect for providing pleasure to my porcelain pincers. After years of practice and theory, I had perfected the order in which to press. Starting at the front of the mouth, I would gently press the wedge just above the crown. The reveal was remarkable. Imagine an overgrown cuticle being pulled back to release the nail underneath. Much like an artist unveiling his latest masterpiece, it was as though Michelangelo pulled the curtain back from the statue of David. The portion of tooth underneath the gum was a sight to behold. Clean, untouched by plaque or cavities. It stung cold, as it was uncovered and exposed to its new surroundings. An audible “Ohhh….,” was stretched from my lungs as this was the final course of the evening. I continued onwards to the next tooth.
Pressing a bit harder now, this gum was stubborn. It wasn’t a clean press, as the freshly drawn scarlet that colored the base of my gums. I had to press in two, once on each half, in order to shape the gum to my satisfaction. I licked the wound enough to tease out the embalming essence that flowed freely, until ceasing to drain of its own accord. The iron melted into a macabre texture that sat at the back of my tongue. This…this was what I had built up for. This was what I had pursued. This was the final concerto of my composition. I needed the metallic taste. I craved the sharp sensation. I ached for the vermillion wine that poured forth. It was the final ingredient to the masterful meal that I had produced. An oral amalgamation, fusing calcification, decay and iron into a mandibular monstrosity, but providing me a most caviticous collation.
I pressed, slowly moving further and further back on one side and the other. The concealed calcium was breathing once again. My gum line receded, stinging with delight. Each press pierced the flesh, but I knew it would heal back, letting me continue again the next evening.
Finally, upon reaching the back of my bottom molars, I pressed one final time, sending cascading relief throughout my entire being. I tensed at the pulse being shot throughout my body. I groaned from the release. The taste, the smell, the touch of pain and pleasure moved me. I saw heaven through the eyes of a sinner. I breathed in through gritted teeth and toughened tarter. This was what I strived for every evening. This broke my very soul.
I struggled to maintain balance as my newly unlocked knees had been kept tensed for too long. I fell back against the wall behind me. My teeth, immaculately groomed to purity, thanked me through a smiled that pursed my lips. I strained to hold myself together, but finally pulled myself upright.
I rinsed the sink to close the curtain. I took a drink to rinse the skin. I looked at myself once more in the mirror to confirm…oh…but what is that? A missed piece of pepper?
I grabbed the dental sickle once again.
I fucking love bed time.
I fucking love getting ready for bed.
I fucking love cleaning my teeth.