[myflash=]My life has become slightly more interesting over the past year. Repressed desires and fantasies that I've had since early childhood have finally found themselves unleashed and laid bare within the framework of reality. The cognitive dissonance that used to plague my mind is slowly being abolished, and my sadistic nature is growing exponentially braver every day - an experience that is as thrilling as it is frightening. Not only am I becoming more honest with my sadistic desires, but I am also beginning to develop deeper, stronger, more violent sexual preferences. I suppose, having expressed a bit about myself as I am now, that I should express a bit about my childhood as well. I don't really know why I feel like posting this. Perhaps I seek validation? Perhaps I am unsure of what I am? Perhaps I feel as though I'm dangerous? I am undoubtably unstable, but is that a legitimate concern? I have no clue.
As a child (I am male) I was molested and abused orally twice, at around the ages of 5 and 13, by two different men. Needless to say, I have often wondered if this abuse is the cause of my sadistic nature. As a child, after the abuse, I remember getting pleasure from hurting small animals (reptiles, amphibians, dogs, insects) in a non-sexual fashion. I remember doing much more than pulling the legs off bugs - I truly tortured the insects and amphibians in ways that are definitely atrocious. I do believe that I should not have harmed these animals, but I don't really regret doing it. As for the dogs, I enjoyed psychologically dominating the family pets through intimidation, fear and emotional confusion. However, harming them physically was only done to train them legitimately, and for no other reason, and I was always proper and correct with my punishments. Perhaps these actions were simply the acts of a normal child? I'm not certain.
As for obtaining pleasure from sadism in a sexual sense, as a child. I vividly remember the first time I received am erection from seeing a creature in pain. It was in a movie when the protagonist received an injury while trying to escape from the human's birdcage. Keeping in mind that I am not a zoophile or a 'furry', what truly caused me to become sexual excited from seeing this character in pain was her vulnerability, a key aspect of her character that was portrayed throughout the entire film. Her goodness, kindness, warm-hearted nature, fear, weakness and femininity all wove together into a perfect thing to hurt. A perfect thing to break. A perfect thing to own.
I also remember masturbating to raping and hurting females that I had crushes on, when I had first learned to masturbate (around the age of 13). I typically fell for quiet and sweet girls with calm and shy demeanors. There is something about this type of female that has always pulled me in hard.
In any case, as of now I am dating a masochist. This has been the source of my current trepidation and fulfillment. She has enjoyed everything I've done with her physically, which has been light yet satisfying, but I am finding myself wanting more...especially psychologically. She is frail, afraid and vulnerable - she is alone and she has come to need me. The amount of control I have over her is truly astonishing. I own almost everything she is, and I enjoy this. However, I have started systematically lying to her, in a guided attempt to own even more of her. I have also started to become somewhat abusive (psychologically) with attacks that make it seem as though she's the one with the issue and I'm the person that she must hold onto to become better...the person she must seek forgiveness from to correct her improper behavior.
Every time I gain a little bit more of her, I become so satisfied. I want to do so many terrible things to her - things that I know I could get sway with...but I will not. The part of my mind that loves her will not allow me this pleasure. I feel somewhat split, somewhat conflicted. Who am I? What am I? I could hurt her so why don't I? Why would I hurt someone so wonderful? Is life worth living so properly? And I have no answers. I just remain confused...an aspect of myself that I have become far too accustomed with.
I am not afraid of myself, but at the same time I realize I'm dangerous. I both love this and worry about how I love this. I don't know which part of me will win, but this is all very interesting. [/myflash]