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41

I read some’ers that the average age of the baddies favored by the killin’ type was like eighteen. That’s if you took the ages of all the baddies and averaged them out. In fact, the diaper-snipers are a reasonably small minority of serial killers.

But yeah, you are correct. Bragging rights among serial killers are earned by the challenge of the crime, and pickin’ up little childrens like that poor bastard Robert Black is not how you earn em. You gotta do some epic shit like Schaefer, Kemper, and sexy Ted… and you gotta do it with a playboy centerfold, not a little kid on a tricycle. I relate to you the ethics of the serial killer.

Also, another insight into how they work. Those that objectify all women as a symbol of the tyrannical mother or the girlfriend that cheated/broke-up or the whore of Babylon… whichever is their particular circumstances… none of these symbols can be placed on the child because the child isn’t yet corrupted… isn’t yet one of those horrible women our killer so despises. They lack any subconscious rage against the childrens. But once they’re old enough to start hitchhiking, listening to large red eight-track Foghat tapes and having causal sex after getting stoned, they’re old enough to be cheaters and betrayers and whores of Babylon.

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42

You think my insight into you is that shallow.

The pedophile doesn’t kill. Killing is an added excitement, also because an adult that you rape will squeal. A child can be manipulated.

Pedophilia is actually horrifically widespread, it’s just much easier to conceal. And if you happen to kill a child as well, hey, who would know. Easy to do.

It’s not revenge, by the way, at some caricature of a cruel woman. That doesn’t make a person kill or do something psychopathic. I am now revealing to you your own psyche.

What happens is that, at some point, or likely several, in your childhood, you were made to feel perfectly powerless. That sensation stuck, not only the pain, but the alienation. You can’t relate to people that don’t feel that.

So raping and killing achieves two things: it displaces the feeling of powerlesness to the weak creature you capture and rape and possibly kill, and also the act of violation, and of killing, itself is an attempt to make profound contact with another being, to break through the shell of platitudes and such that are so alien to you, through the falseness, through to the animal, the soul on the other side.

Of course company doesn’t work like that, which is what leads to the psychopath’s disappointment (failed to make contact with the soul) and subsequent desire to confess. Maybe the confession will bring the connection that the violation did not.

43

Perhaps fear is the most intense emotion a psychopath knows, so in seeking to inspire it in the profoundest possible way, he is sincerely trying to realte to someone, to communicate.

“To make you like me, so I can talk to you.”

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Below that type I explained up there is the most barbarian type, and this type isn’t even taking out a secret revenge against women because they’re too dull to understand the sophistication involved in betrayal and tyranny and all that. Fred West is an example. Pure barbarian sex fiend with absolutely no scruples who would hump a six year old right there in the basement in front of his kids and then turn his wife Rose ‘the whip’ West loose on the kiddo. These are the oldest class of sexually motivated serial killer, the most innocent type who do not suffer the complications of conscience like the organized sociopath. The Wests were pure unprincipled sadistic sex machines with lizard brains. Very rare for british people and something usually reserved for the american serial killers. When british serial killers work, there’s always some intrigue involved. Either he’s cleaning the streets of prostitution or god told em to do it. It’s proper, run through parliament, and thought carefully about alone in a flat or at a pub as opposed to speeding through Georgia with the likes of Ottis Elwood Toole and no plan in mind as the lead in Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Freebird blares from the speakers. British serial killers are far too studious for behavior like this.

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A little man terrorizing the vulnerable in his own words. He has no desire to understand the terror a victim experiences and as is evident he is still “chomping at the bit” to engage.

"Today is your lucky day because I’m a retired exhibitionist who’s been arrested like five times for indecent exposure, and I’m gonna help you out. First, you need to watch this introductory video before I school you: youtube.com/watch?v=JV8JPZyJiuE

Now I have done this very thing (minus the camera) more times than I can count… and let me assure, they love it. I had to downgrade to the bulge from indecent exposure after my fourth arrest. It’s not the same intensity or buzz but when you’re an abnormal, sexually deviant paraphiliac like me, you take what you can get. I’ve gotten the best results in book stores. Here’s how it works. You get a semi boner going… not so erect that you pitch a tent in your pants, but not so soft that the member doesn’t produce a bulge. You ease your way down the aisle and place yourself within the proximity of a sexy female; avoid prepubescent teens because you’re no pedophile and they wouldn’t understand what’s going on anyway. But you don’t stalk them… you don’t follow them around like a creep. What you’re giving is an invitation to play, to have a strange, erotic experience with an attractive stranger. They will come to you. Oh, if you aren’t attractive, none of this is going to work, so stop reading. If you are, proceed.

Fuck it I’ll just tell you some of my personal experiences instead of give you a seminar. It’ll be easier. So I’m at the far end of the aisle opposite the woman. She’s browsing, I’m browsing. When she turns in my direction, I shift the bulge, giving it emphasis, but I don’t look at her. I keep my eyes in the book. Now the first thing they do is quickly look away after they see the bulge. Then they pretend to be reading and look back over the top of the book. Most of them end up moving down the aisle to get closer to me. Of course I pretend not to know what’s going on. Once she is set up in position, she’ll resume the secret stare over the top of her book. You know this because she’s not really reading. She’s been on the same page too long, see. If she were really reading, she’da turned the page by now. So now I’m getting aroused and more erect… maybe I’ll squat down and browse the bottom shelf for a minute and think about fat, ugly women so I don’t pop a full boner. It’s all about control; you have to keep the member under control. I stand back up and shift again… but this time I do a little fondling. Now she knows I know she’s watching. Game on. Eros has arrived. She moves closer. Now I pause. This is to confirm whether or not she is into it. If she stays, that means yes, let’s do this. So I fondle it again, and bring the member into a diagonal position across my leg to demonstrate it’s length and girth. All this time neither of us have said a word or made eye contact.

Now I shit you not, on a few occasions the girl would walk away and come back with her friend, who would set up beside her with her own book and join in. I’ve actually seen a late adolescent girl wearing those tight teenager spandex pants develop a clearly visible wet spot between her legs. I’m not kidding man. This chick had to go to the bathroom it got so bad. Others would begin a series of provocative poses there in the aisle as if they were performing for me. This one hottie, she musta been seventeen or eighteen, stood up on her tiptoes and stuck her ass out, pretending to read the back of a book on the top shelf. This was bullshit because she was certainly tall enough to read the book without being on her tiptoes. She did that for me, dude, and I almost blew a load in my pants. That one was a close call. At that point we both knew what was going on; she was digging it and so was I… so I started stroking it through my sweat pants. I wish I woulda said something to her, but I didn’t. I’ve never said a word to any of them. I couldn’t… it was too weird. I wouldn’t know what to say.

What was happening here is a part of us deep down had come to the surface, but the superego was blocking it, keeping it in check. Two beautiful creatures momentarily free from the bonds of morality and society engaged in an erotic fantasy on aisle five. In a better world, we would have dropped right there on the floor and gone to work. But nooooo, we have to be proper, civilized, domestic, appropriate.

I still have the picture of that girl in my head. This was like eight years ago. She was so gorgeous man. She loved what she had done to me. A young girl coming to understand her sexual power. Every move she made was an invitation to judge her. When she bent down to the bottom shelf and arched her back, when she stretched that exaggerated stretch and pushed her chest out. Do you like it, Zoot? YES, young lady, you have no idea.

I’ll never see that girl again, BH, but we will always remember each other. She’ll tell her friends; omg this hot guy at the book store was totally checking me out, Stacey! I could see his dick through his pants! He was rubbing it…[ giggle ]!

Now you’ve indicated that your member is quite large, so you should have no problem with one of these operations. But you have to be careful not to pop a full boner. A dude with a big dick would pitch a ridiculous tent, and that’s not sexy… it’s comical. You’ll scare Eros away.

last visit

post by Zoot_Allures on Aug 17, 2015

Zoot Allures

Aug 2015

My penis makes eyes bulge so I assumed always its above average but I never really checked for scrotum size

You know what I’ve noticed? Watching porn I’ve noticed that dudes with average or smaller dicks bust bigger nuts, while the big dicks barely bust anything. I wonder if this is an evolutionary feature. It would make sense that smaller dicks, being unable to get closer to the cervix, would need to ejaculate more in order to fertilize the female. I dunno though.

Now the size of your balls is important, but the parts of the testicle that produce sperm are only a small part of the anatomy of the testicle. Ergo, you don’t need big balls to bust a good nut. But you do need big balls to have high testosterone levels. Now I’d be willing to trade my balls (which are big) for your bigger dick, for two reasons; first, my testosterone levels have always gotten me in trouble, and second, wearing underwear is uncomfortable for me because my balls hang low, they swing to and fro, I can tie them in a ribbon, I can tie them in a bow.

First though I need to know if by big we mean the same thing. Mines about 6 and 7/8ths inches long erect, maybe 4 and 1/4 inches in circumference. That might be off because I don’t have my tape measure on me… it’s in my tool bags. At any rate I would like at least a 7 and 1/2 inch long erection. I’ve tried to stretch the thing but it doesn’t work. I want one this long because I want to be able to hit that sweet spot without putting her legs over my shoulders. From behind I do alright… I’ll get the hand from her… when she reaches back and pushes against your hips in a gesture to say ‘whoa dude, not so deep’. But basically seeing all these big dicks in porn makes me feel inadequate. I’m not, mind you, but my exposure to porn has exaggerated my expectations- everything HAS TO BE BIGGER- bigger trucks, bigger cheeseburgers, bigger TVs, bigger breasts, bigger houses, bigger incomes, bigger everything. You know what I mean? I’ve been subliminally brainwashed by the media and all its mediums. One has a psychic ontological desire to increase one’s Parmenidean being, to exist MORE, to occupy more space, to bring into existence ever increasing atomic complexes of greater size, to master the material world of things. A big johnson is the most primordial expression of the masculine force to do this. The second is architecture. To build objects that endure and resist the Heraclitean flux. Like the architectural erections I build, I want also for my penis to resist the Heraclitean flux with its erection. A tower of power that rises up toward the heavens, that overcums the spirit of gravity, that demands; SEE ME, FOR I’LL SHALL EXIST!

46

He doesn’t need to want to, because he already experiences it all the time.

That is the “buzz” he talks about. There would be none if he did not understand what he was inflicting.

Now you tell me: what are the things we don’t know about.

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Oh yes! Penthouse forum right there, baby. All that shit really happened, too. Man, I’m telling you, when you have encounters like that, it’s difficult not to get carried away. These were the homeless days, too… when you spend every minute you aren’t working at the day labor place in an air-conditioned book store if you can find one.

This one time, a chick who couldn’t have been older than thirteen started complaining out loud about her back hurting and asked me if I’d crack it. It was totally fake. She just wanted to have a sexy older guy give her a reverse hug (how you fold your arms and they pick you up and lean back, etc) and her friends to see it. Young girls competing for attention. I wasn’t even fuckin around in the bookstore this time, either. I was legitimately there reading some books.

Your question, Mrs. Poppins. The only sexually deviant things I’ve ever been involved in are exhibitionism and voyeurism.

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That is almost guaranteed to be false.

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A person with an extensive history of sexually assaulting people, “accidentally” masturbates in front of a child.

We know about that one because the police caught you. For all your rants against the criminal system, you are almost proof that it is either virtuous or too soft.

That’s already one lie.

What are the “adventures” we don’t know about? The ones you knew were so bad, the risk-benefit of allowing the exciting chance of getting caught did not add up, so you were careful?

Hm?

What’s the story on that? How many?

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That was some excellent writing too. I just now reread it. 2015 was right after the first bid. I promised myself when I got out I would not only show no remorse but I would celebrate everything I did. It was the easiest way to strike at whoever was preparing to criticize me and not a criminal justice system that just put a man in prison once for no reason and was getting ready to do it again two years later.

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“No reason.”

The worst part, the key to the psychopath’s mind, is that he is not saying that as some sort of devious lie or manipulation.

This one, he seriously believes.

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It’s something that brakes in the psychopath mind.

Even though they come to dole out fifty times worse than they got as a child, they truly, sincerely, in the depth of their soul, udnerstand only cases in which they were victims and not a single one where they did something worth probably gutting them for.

It’s a special kind of cowardice it takes to, mixed with childhood trauma, make the psychopath.

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He knows what he does is “wrong” on an intellectual level, but he is a serial offender who intentionally delights in acting in ways how he wants his victims to respond. Whether it be fear or as he writes a “perceived admiration for him”.
What is obvious to me in this little saga of his is his high level of egocentrism without any regard for the impact on the victim, or if there is it is shoved firmly into the back dark corners of his mind.
He is only concerned about his “social” standing and amazingly a strong sense of entitlement. For himself.

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I promise you he does not.

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Perhaps he can answer this.

56

You will wait a long time for that one.

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When I write, he knows on an intellectual level, meaning the consequences if caught again.
Not a moral issue.
There is a serious possibility of his progression to rape.

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I am sorry to be the one to tell you this, but that progression almost certainly happened a long time ago.

Yes, he understands the difference between what can or cannot get him in trouble, and how much. But I think it’s a mistake to label that which he as knowledge of as thta it is “wrong.” As far as he is concerned, it’s all simply threats. If anything is wrong, it’s the miseries that have befallen him. Period.

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Sadly, my exhibitionism career is relatively mundane and of no great consequence. There were a couple streaking arrests in 93 (i think… or 92). High school football games.

The sexually deviant flashing was derived from a complex of unique childhood and adolescent experiences with sexual deviancy of that sort. An instance when i was sixteen and a superhot female wilderness camp group leader saw me taking a leak at the urinal and smiled at me all sexy, and so i started playin’ with it. Instances of ‘show me yours and I’ll show you mine’ when in the mental institutions with the psycho girls on the female wing. We’d sneak off during events and day trips on the campus and all that shit. Fuck man, at Holly Hill you could literally crawl low past the front of the staff desk and make it down the girls’ hallway and into a room. Google that place and see if there are any interior pictures. If you see a long light hospital blue desk front in front of a dayroom, that was the one. Picture me 13 years old like a SEAL team operative making my way past Mr. Gregory sitting behind that desk (he was old af and half asleep even when awake) and down to Robin Keys room.

All this stuff wired my brain up different from y’alls, bruh. I’ve been a perv since i learned to tie my shoes. Let’s see, i flashed a college chick in a grocery store parking lot one time and got arrested. That’s the third misdemeanor charge before i turned twenty. There was the one when i was leaving my third shift clerk job at BP high off my gourde on cough syrup and weed (smokin’ in the freezer) and pulled up to a jogger with my willy out and aksed her if she wanted to have sex. That’s how loopy I was… i actually thought she’d be like, “Oh, hey, that sounds like an excellent idea, in fact!”

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People think that because they are charming and funny, that a soul would be destroyed.

That is the entire art of the psychopath.