Death

[callmecaleb]

Death. It’s why we’re here. Communicating. Communing. Lurking. We are obsessed with Death.

Cute Dead Guys. Cute is subjective. Guys is what we are, mostly but not totally. Dead is the given, the constant. It draws us in. It unites us. There are many forms of death. Each of us has his favorite, a beat-my-meat favorite. Some forms may repel us, but we peek anyway. Can’t avert our eyes. Dead men. Can’t live without them.

Dying men. I absolutely love dying men. Their pain. Their suffering. Their despair. Their whines and moans and cries. On the battlefield. Traffic accident. Execution. Workplace accident. Cartel or Isis torture. Autoerotic accident. Suicide. Gunshot murders. Method of death is not as erotic as the event itself. Our hearts beat faster as we watch them die. We yearn for more.

To me, a most fascinating part of CDG is Us. Me and You. How do each of us approach the deaths we watch and savor? Many of us fantasize as we stare at a photo or video. But the focus of our fantasy is all over the map. We see ourselves as victim, perpetrator, onlooker. We feel sympathy, or none. We fantasize dying as the victim, or killing as the perpetrator. We want to be tortured, beaten, cut, or eaten. Or do the deed ourselves. Or both. Me? I vacillate.

When I watch men die, I watch with a cold eye. I enjoy their death without ever thinking about their life before their death. My first story posted on CDG was about killing a guy named Nick. A very beautiful and hot young man. All of my fantasies went into that story. Psychologically, it was a huge release. A lifetime of pent-up feelings released the moment I hit “Post”. I felt great. But that night, and for several nights after, I could not sleep. My mind was imagining the grief being felt by his grandma, his family and friends. All fictitious people, but I imagined what happened to Nick as happening to my brother. These thoughts wrecked my mind. No more. Since then, I have been cold. Never wanted to know or imagine anything about the lives of the men I have watched die, or whom I have written stories about. The death is everything, the only thing. I’m a cold observer, lurking in the dark underbelly of life, seeking men. “Hi. Call me Caleb. Come home with me. You’ll regret it. You’ll die painfully. But my belly will be full."

Oh, one last thing. I’m just a keyboard killer. I would not actually kill. Myself or you. But I have written about torturing or killing or eating You. I have written stories about my own most hideous death. That’s another thing CDG has given us: a means to portray ourselves as cold and cruel while disguising the fact that we are actually a good group of men, with somewhat kinky cravings. I love you guys, even as I want to slice open your guts.

Caleb

 

[Huffko3]

Death. It’s why we’re here. Communicating. Communing. Lurking. We are obsessed with Death.

Cute Dead Guys. Cute is subjective. Guys is what we are, mostly but not totally. Dead is the given, the constant. It draws us in. It unites us. There are many forms of death. Each of us has his favorite, a beat-my-meat favorite. Some forms may repel us, but we peek anyway. Can’t avert our eyes. Dead men. Can’t live without them.

Dying men. I absolutely love dying men. Their pain. Their suffering. Their despair. Their whines and moans and cries. On the battlefield. Traffic accident. Execution. Workplace accident. Cartel or Isis torture. Autoerotic accident. Suicide. Gunshot murders. Method of death is not as erotic as the event itself. Our hearts beat faster as we watch them die. We yearn for more.

To me, a most fascinating part of CDG is Us. Me and You. How do each of us approach the deaths we watch and savor? Many of us fantasize as we stare at a photo or video. But the focus of our fantasy is all over the map. We see ourselves as victim, perpetrator, onlooker. We feel sympathy, or none. We fantasize dying as the victim, or killing as the perpetrator. We want to be tortured, beaten, cut, or eaten. Or do the deed ourselves. Or both. Me? I vacillate.

When I watch men die, I watch with a cold eye. I enjoy their death without ever thinking about their life before their death. My first story posted on CDG was about killing a guy named Nick. A very beautiful and hot young man. All of my fantasies went into that story. Psychologically, it was a huge release. A lifetime of pent-up feelings released the moment I hit “Post”. I felt great. But that night, and for several nights after, I could not sleep. My mind was imagining the grief being felt by his grandma, his family and friends. All fictitious people, but I imagined what happened to Nick as happening to my brother. These thoughts wrecked my mind. No more. Since then, I have been cold. Never wanted to know or imagine anything about the lives of the men I have watched die, or whom I have written stories about. The death is everything, the only thing. I’m a cold observer, lurking in the dark underbelly of life, seeking men. “Hi. Call me Caleb. Come home with me. You’ll regret it. You’ll die painfully. But my belly will be full."

Oh, one last thing. I’m just a keyboard killer. I would not actually kill. Myself or you. But I have written about torturing or killing or eating You. I have written stories about my own most hideous death. That’s another thing CDG has given us: a means to portray ourselves as cold and cruel while disguising the fact that we are actually a good group of men, with somewhat kinky cravings. I love you guys, even as I want to slice open your guts.

Caleb

Awee the sweet Caleb. You complete me lol.

 

[callmecaleb]

Awee the sweet Caleb. You complete me lol.

 

[ScorpSoldier]

really love this post, im not sure how but you basically steal the words out of my mouth and put them in writing. you are a talented writer and get your point across very well. "keyboard killer" im a big fan of that, haha, i feel the same. Sometimes i get such a craving to kill my close friend but i wouldn't, i fear repercussions, and i cant jerk off to real life pictures of guys killed in accidents or anything, most i can do is if they intentionally die for their own sexual pleasure, i remember how hard i got over thinking about the armin meiwes case, never really thought about the case until i saw the leaked screenshots of the tape, immediately got hard, because brandes WANTED to die, he was consenting every step of the way and he was willing to be snuffed out and eaten by armin, which is so hot to me. So i visit those photos from time to time, wishing that SOMEONE leaked the full tape....that would be the HOTTEST death video of our time i think. But for me, artwork and writing and simulated snuff will have to do

 

[IntriguedBystander]

Death. It’s why we’re here. Communicating. Communing. Lurking. We are obsessed with Death.

Cute Dead Guys. Cute is subjective. Guys is what we are, mostly but not totally. Dead is the given, the constant. It draws us in. It unites us. There are many forms of death. Each of us has his favorite, a beat-my-meat favorite. Some forms may repel us, but we peek anyway. Can’t avert our eyes. Dead men. Can’t live without them.

Dying men. I absolutely love dying men. Their pain. Their suffering. Their despair. Their whines and moans and cries. On the battlefield. Traffic accident. Execution. Workplace accident. Cartel or Isis torture. Autoerotic accident. Suicide. Gunshot murders. Method of death is not as erotic as the event itself. Our hearts beat faster as we watch them die. We yearn for more.

To me, a most fascinating part of CDG is Us. Me and You. How do each of us approach the deaths we watch and savor? Many of us fantasize as we stare at a photo or video. But the focus of our fantasy is all over the map. We see ourselves as victim, perpetrator, onlooker. We feel sympathy, or none. We fantasize dying as the victim, or killing as the perpetrator. We want to be tortured, beaten, cut, or eaten. Or do the deed ourselves. Or both. Me? I vacillate.

When I watch men die, I watch with a cold eye. I enjoy their death without ever thinking about their life before their death. My first story posted on CDG was about killing a guy named Nick. A very beautiful and hot young man. All of my fantasies went into that story. Psychologically, it was a huge release. A lifetime of pent-up feelings released the moment I hit “Post”. I felt great. But that night, and for several nights after, I could not sleep. My mind was imagining the grief being felt by his grandma, his family and friends. All fictitious people, but I imagined what happened to Nick as happening to my brother. These thoughts wrecked my mind. No more. Since then, I have been cold. Never wanted to know or imagine anything about the lives of the men I have watched die, or whom I have written stories about. The death is everything, the only thing. I’m a cold observer, lurking in the dark underbelly of life, seeking men. “Hi. Call me Caleb. Come home with me. You’ll regret it. You’ll die painfully. But my belly will be full."

Oh, one last thing. I’m just a keyboard killer. I would not actually kill. Myself or you. But I have written about torturing or killing or eating You. I have written stories about my own most hideous death. That’s another thing CDG has given us: a means to portray ourselves as cold and cruel while disguising the fact that we are actually a good group of men, with somewhat kinky cravings. I love you guys, even as I want to slice open your guts.

Caleb

Thank you, Caleb.

 

[IntriguedBystander]

Thank you, Caleb.

This site has allowed me to become comfortable with aspects of myself that, as you also mentioned, Caleb, I experienced initially with strongly mixed feelings. Lust and excitement combined with terror and at times very significant moral trepidation. The reactions that were initially so at odds with each other within me have eased in their tension, and while the tensions still exist to some degree, I have become more distinct from them, if that makes sense. I can "be with" and find aliveness (even in the experience of my own inward "deadness") in allowing those variant parts of myself to captivate me in their different ways, own them but not let any of them "take over" to the point of obscuring the rest of "me." So, the privilege of viewing the materials here has allowed me to become "more," more fully and consciously, "myself" in that sense. Reasonably sexy, dying men are incredibly exiting for me ... yes, it is the dying more than the method, and I also enjoy the throes and struggle and horror. Some methods are sexier for me, others less, but all can be wonder-full. I love hangings and slow, full beheadings and I do like to know more about the guy, and if he is young (late teens through early 20s especially) and I feel especially sympathetic for him it turns me on even more - incredibly more. I try and accent my own fond regard for him alongside my enjoyment of him - of him - in his agony, terror, pain, and death throes. I do believe that, in some sense or other, our beings continue in some form or forms, and that I can also join with him in ways that make an offering for him in appreciation for the gift he offers to me in his dying and death, even if it was of course, not his intention to make any kind of offering himself. The videos of young guys live streaming their own suicides by hanging are especially primed for this exchange, though I feel - but I do wish they would think to do it naked and with several camera angles available. Having said that, I suppose I'm really not giving due weight to their actual mental states at the time, needless to say. Other things being equal, I'd do whatever I could to prevent their deaths, any of these guys' deaths in these images. But because I cannot prevent what has already occurred, I have come to feel quite comfortable partaking after the fact, and as a part of this community. Appreciate you all, like Caleb said.

 

[Huffko3]

I joined cause I have a fascination about cute dead guys and seeing death. Then I came to enjoy this site and the people in it. Like Caleb he secretly and knowingly worships the quicksand I walk on. He covet me. Lmao. But this serious I do have alot of respect for most of the people here.

 

[callmecaleb]

I joined cause I have a fascination about cute dead guys and seeing death. Then I came to enjoy this site and the people in it. Like Caleb he secretly and knowingly worships the quicksand I walk on. He covet me. Lmao. But this serious I do have alot of respect for most of the people here.

 

[Huffko3]

See Caleb is ecstatic in knowing me. He wants to have my babies. Lol

 

[callmecaleb]

When I posted my thoughts on Death, I hoped it might prompt some discussion. Seems to have done so.

It’s Thanksgiving time and one of the things I’m most thankful for is CDG, which was created by Meatpie and went online in November 2007. From the first day, he has worked relentlessly to protect the site and fend off those who would shut us down. The fight is constant and continues two decades later. Thank you, Pieman.

I discovered CDG in early 2012. Browsing the internet looking for anything violent, I came across a reference to “the gay necros over at cutedeadguys.net”. Within seconds I was on the site and within minutes I was a member. My life had changed. I was shy at first, lurking in the shadows, afraid to make any contact with other members, even as I was getting off on their posts. Eventually, I posted some comments and then my first story. It took five years before I made my first Direct Message to another member, and my world expanded magically. Finally, I could confide to one person feelings that I felt reticent about sharing with the general membership. I formed a few really close friendships. But eventually, I lost all inhibitions and became totally open, without restraint, with everybody. Why had I been so paranoid? I have no idea. Can’t remember the reason.

I love blood and gore. I love fit young men, stripped naked, bound for torture. And the torture, the cutting, the screams. I wish I could witness it. Participate in the kill. And cannibalize. Yeah. I desperately want to eat man meat. But I can’t. So I write about my cravings. Lots of stories that I hope other members might get off on. Over the years, I’ve evolved from strictly killer to terrorized victim. Don’t know why, but here I am writing about my own excruciatingly painful death. (Four of these stories are listed on my profile page.)

But enough of me. Each of us comes to CDG from a different place. We meet here, in this World of Death. Hopefully, we each find a niche where we can be ourselves, releasing tensions and anxieties, exploring new ideas and cravings. But mostly, we can be comfortable as we talk of death and watch men die. What greater pleasure can Life give us?

 

[Meatpie]

Thank you Caleb for the kind words this was beautifully put almost poetic. Yes, running and caring for CDG has cost me both time and effort but it was worth every minute of it no regrets I have had so much fun with you guys over the years we have been through a lot together.

I will show you the most beautiful dead guys you have ever seen.

Only the best as always.

 

[Huffko3]

Yes Thank you Caleb, now I have to kiss up to MP. Geez make my life difficult lol.

 

[callmecaleb]

Yes Thank you Caleb, now I have to kiss up to MP. Geez make my life difficult lol.

I try.