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 have been growing tired of the same old Snuff Sex adventures lately. I have been craving something more twisted and disturbing. Then last night I found Twisty the Clown. On the TV he Frequents small towns, reigning his style of bloody terror. Taking the young ones. He wants so much, to be a good clown. But he craves blood, and the fear he smells from his victims. Yes Twisty the Clown.. he is quite Twisted indeed. You have seen the series “American Horror Story” I am sure. If you have not seen it you have definitely heard of it. Twisty the Clown is by far my favorite freak in the show. Twisty runs around with a half dead skin mask on his fucked up clown face. He stalks young people and takes what he wants. Keeping the sweet ones captive, and continuously tortures them with disturbing 
images of a psychotic sort. If Twisty is provoked, who knows what this twisted clown will do to them. The little ones he has kept for himself are in constant fear. I can only imagine the sexual energy these little ones must provoke as they beg for their lives. The fear of death is the only thing that will make you feel alive!
