I started jacking around 9 or 10 (but had "filth" erotic responses when rolling around the moldy corners of my basement as early as 5 or 6, but didn't know what those senastions were. but I knew to keep them secret).
I think my first awareness of death-sex urges began when I saw those crime mags in the drug store. I realized almost right away that this was sexual and that these magazines were for men who liked it (although my concept of sex itself was still pretty theoretical).
Around puberty or maybe a little earlier, I saw a Time Magazine Vietnam photo of a young soldier who'd burned to death, his face frozen in a tortured scream. I was horrified by it, but also knew my horror was laced with dark pleasure. I felt bad for him, but couldn't deny my arousal.
The
urge really kicked in for me at age 16 when I started creating my own snuff porn, staying up late at night, sketching pic after pic of muscular, hung, hairy men slicing each other to pieces, ejacutating as they died and killed, beheadings, dismemberment, disemboweling. Slaughter orgies with everybody cumming.
I
loved it. Still do. And I always liked secretly being "that kind of guy."
The first time ever to fantasize about the dead wasn't until I was about 21 or 22. Now I can't reach orgasm unless I am fantasizing about death.
The graduation into true manhood: when your realize your sexuality cannot be free of death and death images and visualization. And embracing it fully as healthy and natural.