Serial Killer Fantasy

I saw this documentary called Carl Panzram: The Spirit of Hatred and Vengeance. And he has to be the most intensely masculine man I've ever heard about. And I really wish I could have been there for all the violence, the rapes, the torture, and murders he committed on others and others committed on him.
 
snuffme said:
After reading about serial killer Randy Kraft i fantasize about being one of his victims particularly this one....

The killer apparently took a six-month break before claiming 20-year-old Malcolm Eugene Little on June 1, 1974, leaving his nude body propped against a mesquite tree beside Highway 86, west of the Salton Sea in Imperial County. Little was an unemployed truck driver who had arrived from Alabama to look for work a week before he died. His slayer left the body with its legs spread to emphasize the severed genitals, a mesquite branch rammed six inches into his rectum.

Here is my re-enactment of the crime scene...

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A lovely pic!
 
callmecaleb said:
Who doesn't?
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Yes, exactly! ;)

I've written several stories in which I die at the hands of one or more serial killers, usually after consensual sex but not always.

When I lived in rural Iowa I would often go for late-night nude walks in some secluded woods not far from my apartment (my avatar pic was taken on one such excursion), and I often fantasized about bumping into a serial killer out there. Those encounters never ended well for me... :devilish:
 
Mike803 said:
....late-night nude walks in some secluded woods....
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Me, too. Being naked and alone, in dense brush and forest, my skin scraped by branches and thistles. This was sexually exciting. But the knowledge, and fear, I might encounter actually someone who could do me harm was stimulating in a way I've never experienced before. :this isnt happening:shock::fast jerk:
 
callmecaleb said:
...naked and alone, in dense brush and forest...
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I forgot to mention that I usually do my nocturnal wanderings under the influence of hallucinogens. Trees and stumps and bushes take on strange shapes. What's real? What's not? What's solid? What's fluid? Is that a man? Am I in trouble? I dive into brambles to hide and, oh fuck, that hurts but why is my dick so hard? Hours of this before dawn and the drug wears off. My body hurts, my skin is torn, but I have memories that will stimulate me for months.
 
callmecaleb said:
I forgot to mention that I usually do my nocturnal wanderings under the influence of hallucinogens. Trees and stumps and bushes take on strange shapes. What's real? What's not? What's solid? What's fluid? Is that a man? Am I in trouble? I dive into brambles to hide and, oh fuck, that hurts but why is my dick so hard? Hours of this before dawn and the drug wears off. My body hurts, my skin is torn, but I have memories that will stimulate me for months.
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In my case I was clearheaded, and I had the advantage of living near a wooded area which had had paths cut through it for ATVs, motocross bikes, etc., so I could stay on those and avoid the nastier brambles and thickets. Of course there was no one riding such vehicles out there at 2:00 or 3:00 AM, which is when I would typically be roaming. Many a blissful evening during the hot summer months, and every once in awhile I'd get caught in one of those pop-up summer showers that only lasts for a few minutes in my part of the country. My avatar pic was taken about 10 minutes after one of those ended, which is why I look wet...I am wet! :D

I was never able to convince any of my pals from CDG or other death-fetish sites to come visit and do me in out in those woods, but I haven't given up on finding someone who'll invite me to their woods and give me the demise I crave (and deserve)... :RIP:
 
For me, it is the threat of danger, the fear of encountering someone. I once handcuffed my wrists behind my back, laid the key on a tree stump, and then wandered off. I walked naked, except for my construction boots, through the woods and up a hill. I had taken a smaller dose of drugs because I wanted to find my way back to the key, but it was enough to fuck up my vision and sense of space. At one point, I was certain there was someone nearby, and I cowered behind a nettle patch. Frankly, I was scared shitless. But no one came, and I eventually resumed my trek. All went well except when I tripped over a tree root and slid down a low ravine. Eventually, I made my way back to the key and went home. A little bruised and scraped, but still excited about the danger, and still hard.
 
NJBiGuy said:
Time travel and break out of prison Ted Bundy or Anthony Buno and John Wayne Gacy. Have them go on a couple killing spree.
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I'd love to go back in time and hang out with Dean Corll and help him get his body count higher.
 
I live in Kansas City, Missouri. When the serial killer Robert Berdella was active in this city, unfortunately, I was teaching in Wyoming. He was in jail by the time I moved back to KC.

If you look up info on Berdella you'll see why I get an erection every time I think about being one of his victims...
 
Berdella got caught and sent to prison, but for the rest of his life he could dream at night of the joy of having tortured and killed six young men. What more could you ask for?
 
I many times think that I could be a serial killer if I had less empathy
 
I know right? Like, I hate most people and I am disgusted by children but then I can’t hurt them (too much) cos it makes my stomach turn.

I am ok with psychological torture. It’s the physical pain of others that put me off. I wish I could be a sadist.
 
Lilibet said:
I know right? Like, I hate most people and I am disgusted by children but then I can’t hurt them (too much) cos it makes my stomach turn.

I am ok with psychological torture. It’s the physical pain of others that put me off. I wish I could be a sadist.
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One day you’ll reach that threshold. And hopefully find a group to enjoy it with
 
In jail you mean? 🤣😵‍💫
 
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