|My life as a Sadist
Author: KODfreak PM
Meet Damien, a sadist. He would give anything to see someone brutally tortured or maimed. This is just another story of his life. WARNING! Very dark, twisted style of humor and romance! The squeamish should look away. this is a short story, and may be followed by the view points of other characters as sequels.Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Humor - Chapters: 3 - Words: 3,783 - Reviews: 2 - Updated: 11-03-12 - Published: 10-01-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3062273
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I am a Sadist. I have been a sadist for as long as I can remember. My name is Damien. I am also a death metal head, and I look like what you think one would look like too. I wear death metal band to shirts, dark pants and shoes. of course, this is coincidental, I just happen to like to dress like this. I have what my mom says "Sadistic problems." I like causing pain for others, physically and mentally. Not only does it give me thrills, but sexual thrills too. I love the sounds and sights of screams and helplessness. But, I am not a sociopath. I do have morale. I do have emotions...mostly anger.
So today my mom set me up for some camp like program next to some theme park. She said it would help me. I wasn't planning on actually attending, but I would visit the park anyway. I decided to go along with it, because my mother is probably the only person that I feel love for. She is the only person I don't want to see hurt.
So my mom drops me off. I hang out at the park for a bit, and rides some rides. Then, I go to the camp, just to see how dumb it is. The teacher is this weird, brown haired slightly fat man with a mustache. The kids are a few boys and a few girls.
"Ah! You must be Damien! So glad you can join us. We were just learning how to build bird houses. Why don't you join us?"
"Piss off." I say to the other kids gasping.
"Now Damien, your mom said you would have issues."
"Piss the fuck off."
"Now Damien, you wouldn't want me to call your mother."
"Just keep in mind, I would find it so satisfying to see you in horrible agony. I would pay to see your flesh ripped from your body."
"Just sit down over there at the table. I'll pair you up with Jess."
I sit down at the table. Jess starts putting together the bird house. She looks kind of weird. she is very thin, frail, and a little pale, and has kind of messy peach colored hair. she's wearing some grey tank top and shorts. I must say, I wouldn't mind whipping her violently, to see the look on her face, her soft pain induced moans. She looks up at me. She has big pop eyes.
"Aren't you going to help me?"
"Why the fuck would I do that?"
"Well uh... I think you're supposed to."
"I think you are supposed to build this bird house and shut the fuck up."
That's right. be upset.
I find it interesting how she doesn't argue. She builds it slower than the other students.
"Here! God, let me help." I say helping her bolt nails in the bird house. The teacher walks up.
"Oh good! I see that you are helping."
So, after a few hours of hiking around the camp site, which was situated on a hillside, amoung a mountainous like area, he let us go for the day. I stay at the park for a while, looking over at a lake surrounded by a small wooden fence. Then, I soon here a voice.
I turn around, it is that thin bitch from before.
She comes and stands next to me. I notice she has scars on her arms. What a weirdo.
"Want a smoke?" she asks holding a cig.
"I don't smoke. I chew, but I don't smoke."
"I don't get you. What's your angle?" I ask.
"I can tell you don't like this place."
"Yeah, and you?"
"I don't like it either."
"Then why do you attend?"
"Because I hate it."
"Why would you attend if you hate it?"
"Because...I'm a masochist."
I was amused.
"Really? You will do anything to harm yourself physically and emotionally?"
"Yes, and I can tell you are a very angry person."
"Not really actually. I just like to see people suffer."
"And I like to suffer."
"Well, I was hoping you could slap me around or something...shit I sound desperate."
"You want me to hit you?"
I giver her a back hand to the face. She reacts, and moans. I like it. I needed a pick me up.
"Uhh...can you do it again? But harder?"
I hit her harder. I feel a surge of pleasure, and I assume she does. She moans even louder and covers the spot where I hit her.
"That was good! Really good!"
This girl is weird, but alright.
"I've never met someone who actually wants to be struck or treated like trash."
"Well I've never met someone who actually wants to hurt people for the sake of it."
"Hmph. You're alright Jess."
"And you are a pretty good hitter. So uh...will you come back tommorow?" She asks me.
"I'll be...I would love for you to hit me again."
"Perhaps I might be back to hit your ugly face again."
"I know how much you want to hurt my bitch ass."
"Bitch, You have no idea."
I check my cell phone. My mom was waiting for me to pick me up.
"I'll see you around." she said.
Perhaps I would be back, but only to secretly torture that girl...