While my girlfriends were dreaming about having a Romeo and Juliet kind of love, I was dreaming about being Bonnie to Clyde. You see I suffer from hybristophilia, a strong attraction to bad boys. Not just any bad boy, but the criminal kind. Boys who love to kill, maim, torture and eviscerate others. I did not masturbate to movies like “The Notebook” or “Titanic.” What got me wet were films like “Hostel” and “Saw.”
I had this fantasy, I still do, of being a serial killer’s accomplice, girlfriend. Ted Bundy, David Berkowitz, Jeffrey Dahmer, Charles Manson, John Wayne Gacy…these were the men I wanted to fuck. I had this elaborate fantasy life involving some of the most notorious serial killers in history. Fantasy #1: I witnessed Ted Bundy murder some of my sorority sisters. He sees me, with my hand in my panties, rubbing my clit, as he bludgeons to death my stuck up sorority sisters. Instead of killing me too, he realizes I am his soul mate. He kisses me with the blood of my sisters on his face, and fucks me on the bed where one of their dying bodies lay. We then go on a killing spree together, where he teaches me how to lure young stupid cunts into the car, and to their death.
Fantasy #2: I meet Son of Sam Killer, David Berkowitz, at a satanic cult ritual. He teaches me how to shoot a 44 caliber Bulldog revolver. We go around NYC shooting people in the head that the devil tells us to snuff out. After every shooting, we fuck on the hood of the car that our victim is dying in, listing to the Partridge Family’s “I Think I Love You.” It’s our love song. We kill because there is no God, thus no need for guilt; and to celebrate our love. Blood gushing out of heads on to dashboards while I watch and fuck makes me horny still.
Fantasy #3: I am a young hippie in a cult. Charlie Manson is my God, my lover. He takes me under his wing. Teaches me that war is the answer, but sometimes you need to kill to incite a righteous war. A war against greed and excess. Charlie teaches me how to find the worst offenders of avarice. We find a young couple living high on the hog while others are homeless. We massacre the family and fuck in the blood bath while singing “Helter Skelter.” People need to learn not to flaunt their excess.
Fantasy #4: I meet Jeffrey Dahmer while furniture shopping. We share a kindred fascination for flesh. He invites me back to his apartment for a very special meal. He gives me my first taste for human flesh. Even gives me cooking lessons. I lure a victim back to the house. One that has enough meat on his bones to sustain us both. As we celebrate the joys of cooking flesh, we fuck up against the stove, as a pot of soup bones boils on the burner. The smell of flesh falling off of bones gets my cunt so wet. Still does. Jeffrey makes me understand that I need to appreciate my kills, use all of the body. Eat the flesh, use the bones and skin for furniture. It’s really hot to fuck on a table made of human remains.
Fantasy #5: My parents hire John Wayne Gacy as a clown at my birthday party. Even at a young age, I am keenly observant. He is eyeballing my little brat of a brother. I don’t know how, but I understand that look. I go to his house one day, there is an intoxicating odor coming from underneath the house. John teaches me how to stalk young prey, lure them to my house, play with them, then snuff them out without needing to worry much about body discovery. I learn how to asphyxiate and strangle victims. Even though he prefers young boys, he fucks me from behind as I squeeze the life out of a little plaything with my hands.
My attraction to bad boys has served me well over the years. The many loves of my youth, have made me the sick, violent, twisted girl I am today. From each fantasy lover, I have learned things to make me the best kind of killer. The kind that goes undetected. From Ted, I got a love for blood and an appreciation for beating my victims to death. From David, I learned that there is no God, thus no heaven, so why have guilt? Plus, he taught me how to shoot a gun. A bullet to the head is a sexy quickie kill. From Charlie, I learned the best type of folks to kill. The self entitled assholes that get richer why the poor get poorer. Greed is a deadly sin after all. From Jeff, I learned that human flesh is quite tasty, and nourishing. And, I garnered an appreciation for using the entire body. I’m not killing for sport, but survival. And from John, I gained a love for killing the little ones. Using them for my pleasure, then snuffing them out. Added bonus, learning that lye can leave a body unrecognizable.
Hybristophilia makes me your perfect evil accomplice. I know how to kill in a multitude of ways. I love to stalk and select the right victim. I have an appreciation for killing all sorts of folks; I lack a true type. I know how to dispose of bodies. What kind of evil fun can we get into bad boy?
I followed him for weeks watching in the wings as he picked them out, kidnapped them and them took them to his special spot in the woods and snuffed them after living out his rape fantasies. He was brutal and didn’t do any two the same. That is what kept me coming back for more. I couldn’t wait to see what he would do next. He killed them like a pro, each time using a different method. Sometimes he would strangle them, sometimes he would suffocate them, sometimes he would slice their throats. One thing for sure he always caused the maximum amount of pain, making them beg for mercy. His laugh carried on the night air and sent shivers of ecstasy through my body. From my hiding place I would cum with him and close my eyes dreaming that he would find me and let me join him. Knowing that if he did find me I might be next. He always carried them off to a different spot dumping them in a place where he knew they would be found quickly. I made sure to be there when they were found scanning the crowd looking for him. He was always there too. I wondered if he noticed that my face was in the crowd of on lookers at every scene. Once I thought he made eye contact and smiled making me cum on the spot.. I know if he gets caught I will send him love letters in jail telling him how much I admire and adore him. I might even be brave enough to try to talk him into letting me visit him so that I can fuck myself on the other side of the glass while we talk through the phone.
Sometimes it does not pay to get in the way of how nature does things. I spent many years watching animal rights activists go balls out, trying to stop hunting season. Even in the hunting preserves. Those stupid cunts will do many malicious things.. like sabotage camps, and other dumb fucking things. Mostly they will just piss off decent hunters. After all, they just want dinner… so who cares what meat they cook right?
