i'm such a "shhh i've got you it's alright oh fuck you're doing so good" while they're wailing and screaming and thrashing in my arms kinda sadist

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i'm such a "shhh i've got you it's alright oh fuck you're doing so good" while they're wailing and screaming and thrashing in my arms kinda sadist
if i wanted you dead, you would be dead. do you know what that means? it means i want you alive. doesn't that feel wonderful? that you're still useful to me alive? every breath you take is a gift. thank me.
the "i'll never submit to you fucking creep" to "do whatever you want oh god i don't wanna die" pipeline
iso: a deer boy, whose eyes twinkle in my headlights. who startles and freezes at the slightest noise. who moans when i tell him his antlers would make a beautiful trophy. who'll suck off the cold tip of my rifle. who wants his venison eaten. who likes his little tail yanked and his fragile little legs forced apart by a hunter's big rough hands. inquire within
you try to kiss me through the duct tape on your mouth. i make you suck my fingers over my leather gloves. i bite you over the rope wrapped tightly around your neck. you grind your tongue into my cock over my jeans
Idk I'm trying this whole Tumblr thing.
i hate my coworkers so much my broskis
i swear to fuck im never doing anything right ever to these dumbasses
and every frikin mistake (as small as it might be) gets reported back at me as this massive fuckup on my side
like can you fuck off mate
Occasionally I wonder if my obsession with serial killers is unhealthy. But then I keep watching the documentaries, and I'm like: Nah, it's fine.
A couple of enthusiast thoughts about killing are nice, once in a while.