Hello. My name is Azalel. I have been a member of this forum for a few months and find it a great place to post my more violent thoughts (commonly assembled in some snuff story or other).
I enjoy reading snuff/cannibal stories and, frankly, scare myself when I get aroused by them.
Perhaps more background would be called for here. I am 37 years old. I have been married for the last 7 years, but have been with my wife for the last 20 years (living together for the last 15). I have two wonderful step-children (a 29-year-old son and a 27-year-old daughter) and two great grandsons (one 4 years old, and the other 9 years old). Sounds nice, right? It is.
Now, then, why would I get a charge out of reading or writing stories in which boys and girls, men and women, get horribly butchered for someone else's entertainment or food? The short answer is this: I'm fucked up in the head. Some would probably claim that I have anger management issues. They would most likely be right.
I do not like talking about my feelings. When forced to, I tend to stutter. It is highly uncomfortable and embarrassing. So how do I release this pent up anger? I create people with the sole intent of making them die.
We all wish we could do it sometimes. That bastard who cut you off and almost wrecked your car? You would love to tie his guts to your bumper and see how far they stretched before they would drag him behind you. The problem with doing it in real life is that people with badges would likely be restraining you and locking you up. Not really convenient.
So, I write. Simple rule of thumb to living with society is this: thoughts are perfectly ok. Acting on those thoughts, not so ok. Verbalizing those thoughts, depends on the company.
Verbalizing thoughts is a lot like verbal sexual harrassment. Saying something once is not bad. Saying it again after being informed that such things are unwelcome, well, then you cross a line best left uncrossed.
I like things that make people think. I love playing devil's advocate. I love challenging people's beliefs (as respectfully as I can manage) to see how strong their belief is. I find that if someone believes something but cannot back it up with why they believe it, they need someone to make them question those beliefs.
One of my favorite targets for this approach is incest. Everyone knows it is wrong, but why? Because it is a sin? Bullshit. Most people only call something a sin because they cannot be bothered to look deeper. Incest is wrong because in close blood relations, the DNA is too similar and negative traits are more easily passed on to descendents. That is it. In a nutshell. Understanding that, being the reasonable antagonist that I am, I call bullshit on the whole thing. I still believe that close blood relatives should not have children, but I do not see anything wrong with them having sex if there is no chance or procreation. That means that, if one partner is sterile, or if one of them has an operation that will prevent them from having children, then they can fuck until his dick falls off. I do not care. It does not hurt anyone.
But people have that stigma in their fucking heads. Bullshit.
People should never be too comfortable. There should always be something that makes you a little uncomfortable because it makes you examine yourself. Why does it make you uncomfortable? Is the thought pattern that brings this discomfort valid? If not, what perspective would help me overcome this?
For example, I hate spiders. They are fucking freaks of nature. I used to be horribly frightened by them. I had to have my wife kill them because I could not get close enough to do it myself. Until about 10 years ago, I was fine with that. Then my first grandson was born. I realized, at that point, how debilitating my phobia was. I also realized that, by allowing that fear to control me, I was setting a bad example for my grandson. I did not want him growing up scared of the eight-legged fuckers because I showed him it was the right way to handle them.
After years of working on it, I have now reached the point where, although I will never like them, I am not bothered by them. They still startle me if one appears unexpectedly, but, I can deal with them. Inside my house, I kill them whenever I see them. Outside the house, I leave them alone. 'Raid' makes a lovely anti-spider spray. It melts their exoskeleton. I love watching them squirm as they dissolve. Unfortunately, it is toxic and, with small kids in the house (my daughter and grandkids live with us), we do not wand "Raid" in the house. So now, I kill them with whatever is handy (shoes, brooms, etc...).
Dammit. This always happens. Sorry, folks. I will put away my soapbox and get back on topic. The topic being snuff stories, that is.
As I mentioned, I write snuff stories. I have posted three here since I joined. They are graphic, violent, and can make people uncomfortable. For that last part, I am sorry. Here, then, is my question.
Would you, the ones reading the stories, prefer willing meat for the cannibal feasts, or would you like to see a combination of willing and unwilling. Also, what level of violence and pain would you prefer? What level of descriptiveness would you prefer? Guts falling on the floor, or somewhat vague descriptions that leave it up to YOUR imagination to determine which guts are falling to the floor?
Thank you for reading this (presumptuous, aren't I?) and I hope you enjoy my stories.
--A
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Topic: A Question (Read 2661 times)