⋆ 𖤓 ⋆˚࿔ Ꭾʀɪ፝֟ɴᴄᴇ ⋆⭒˚.⋆

I think the trope of serial killers in media having no empathy and being completely emotionless, yet are also sadistic, has become a rather hackneyed trope. That is what comes to mind when people usually think of serial killers, isn’t it?

Logically, this makes sense. The idea that sadists lack empathy is so common is because caring for others usually prevents cruelty. The complete absence of empathy removes the natural break peddle on this behavior.

But the way I see it is, a sadist needs to know what pain feels like to effectively inflict pain.

Apathy = Lack of care, indifference. Sadism = deriving pleasure of excitement from inflicting pain onto others. If one feels indifferent to the pain they inflict, how can they derive excitement from the pain they are inflicting?

To be masochistic, you often understand pain on an intimate level. Would this not help them give the exact experience to someone else?

Take Strade for example

Look at this greasy german idiot, everyone say hi to Strade!!

Strade experiences very strong empathy. When he hurts you, it hurts him. When you cry, he is literally seen crying aswell. When you scream, he begins screaming aswell.

His sadism isn’t driven by a lack of care, his sadism is driven because he feels everything you feel and is addicted to the feeling of it.

(There is a scene in YKMET where you can interrogate him and he talks about this a little more but I cant find any examples online and I’m too lazy to open up my computer and get to the scene)

Strade was my first introduction into darker media and the paraphile community. My sadism is linked to my masochism, I like hurting others because it hurts me. Playing Gatobob’s games and playing Strade’s route really helped me begin to understand my own sadism and accept a lot of my darker fantasies that I refused to admit.

Sadists with empathy is such an underrated trope that we need to add more in media.

i want to tell him to stop, to fuck off, but he's between me and the locked door, i'm too far in now, and it does feel good, his fingers rubbing over my wet tdick. "god you're clit's so big," he tells me while i'm too busy stifling a moan to protest. "that's so cute."

he begins pumping his thick fingers inside my cunt, stretching me open, and i try to tell him to stop, that i'm not into penetration, but he just tells me i clearly, and adds, after a moment, that i'll want the prep, anyway.

before i can ask what he means, he's removing his hand and pulling my jeans and soaked panties the rest of the way off, leaving me half naked with my wet pussy leaking down my thighs, my shirt pushed up and my tits exposed, before he begins unbuckling his own belt, and wraps it tighly around my wrists while i struggle.

i don't have time to shout for help before he's picked up my panties and stuffed them roughly into my mouth, my voice muffled and inaudible as i try desperately to beg him to stop, as he attaches my bound wrists to a metal hook on the back wall.

when he pulls out his cock, big and hard and already dripping precum, i can't push him off, can't get away, can scream. all i can do is cry and squirm as he lines himself up with my entrance and pushes roughly inside, stretching me open around his thick, throbbing shaft.

"this is what you get for pretending you're a boy," he tells me, one hand gripping my waist, the other groping my swollen tits as he bottoms out inside me. "god, you're so tight. your slutty little cunt's taking me so well, baby. fucking made for this, weren't you?"

i don't know how long i'm there for, as his fat cock thrusts into my ruined pussy. "you going to cum on my dick, huh?" he asks, smirking, and, to my horror, i do, clenching around his length as i moan silently. "good girl," he tells me. "this is all you needed, isn't it? just needed a real man to put you back in your place."

i whine and shake my head, and he laughs, speeding up. "that's okay," he tells me, fucking into my cervix. "some sluts like you just take a little more time." he doesn't pull out as he cums, pumping his thick load directly into my unprotected womb.

afterwards, he pulls out, leaving my hole gaping. he wipes himself off on my face, before putting himself away, and pulling something from his pocket. a marker, i realise dazedly, as he scrawls something i can't see on my chest.

"well, have fun, i guess," he tells me with a smile, and i realise with sinking horror that he's not going to untie me. "feel free to call me, after they're done using you. once you're over the whole 'boy' thing, you know." then he walks away, leaving the door open, and me tied up and covered in cum, and easy fuck for the next man who comes by.