''I love you, because you don't care. You never will and because I know that deep down all that pleases you is to hurt me. You don't see me as a human being. ''
I listened smiling. Should I have feel insulted?
In a normal world I am a Beast by all names but to him for being Exactly that, I was a God.
And I love being one, truth be told, it's my guilty pleasure.
There was a moment in my life in which I said that when it comes to Emotional Sadism, gender doesn't exist. It's all about the PAIN.
The one holding the '' knife '' and knowing exactly where to hit: Where it hurts the most. But to know which spot that is, it's in fact an Art.
That or a very twisted skill.
No wonder Emotional Sadists exist outside BDSM and are often so popular and so loved.
Physical pain passes, emotional one can exist for years and years and the damage done might last forever.
So is it really about playing God, or about playing Satan?
Also another FUN Factor appears when we're talking about Emotional Sadism. When enough is enough?
I could cripple you for life emotionally and have you wander around me giving me what I want for life, but do I really want you?
Do I really need some needy desperate fool that's no longer capable to live without my attention? OR worse, do I want hungreds?
Aimless hurt males worldwide all aching and hoping I'll be worse, I'll get more cruel, I'll ruin them until the point they no longer even want to exist.
Is that the end? Or the Begining of something new?
Can that indeed please me?
HMM.
I've often looked into the eyes of the men that desperately begged me to give them that pain that can push them until the point of no return.
As I coldly watched in those lost eyes of them wondering if I even can be bothered to want them as much as them being nothing to me, and just slaves living for me.
And a part of me was totally unmoved. It felt like even giving them THAT felt too much. too kind. like an effort.
And I don't really like to make in essence any effort.
So.. I gave them something better.
Something that can feed my cruelty, ruin them and requires no effort whatsoever from me...
Which you can't know unless you've served me yourself.
I listened smiling. Should I have feel insulted?
In a normal world I am a Beast by all names but to him for being Exactly that, I was a God.
And I love being one, truth be told, it's my guilty pleasure.
There was a moment in my life in which I said that when it comes to Emotional Sadism, gender doesn't exist. It's all about the PAIN.
The one holding the '' knife '' and knowing exactly where to hit: Where it hurts the most. But to know which spot that is, it's in fact an Art.
That or a very twisted skill.
No wonder Emotional Sadists exist outside BDSM and are often so popular and so loved.
Physical pain passes, emotional one can exist for years and years and the damage done might last forever.
So is it really about playing God, or about playing Satan?
Also another FUN Factor appears when we're talking about Emotional Sadism. When enough is enough?
I could cripple you for life emotionally and have you wander around me giving me what I want for life, but do I really want you?
Do I really need some needy desperate fool that's no longer capable to live without my attention? OR worse, do I want hungreds?
Aimless hurt males worldwide all aching and hoping I'll be worse, I'll get more cruel, I'll ruin them until the point they no longer even want to exist.
Is that the end? Or the Begining of something new?
Can that indeed please me?
HMM.
I've often looked into the eyes of the men that desperately begged me to give them that pain that can push them until the point of no return.
As I coldly watched in those lost eyes of them wondering if I even can be bothered to want them as much as them being nothing to me, and just slaves living for me.
And a part of me was totally unmoved. It felt like even giving them THAT felt too much. too kind. like an effort.
And I don't really like to make in essence any effort.
So.. I gave them something better.
Something that can feed my cruelty, ruin them and requires no effort whatsoever from me...
Which you can't know unless you've served me yourself.