unemployed-cadaver

[unemployed-cadaver]

It's been a while since I indulged in my one true habit. I suppose just...one more shouldn't cause too much damage, if I choose a spot that hasn't been cut yet.

[unemployed-cadaver]

Everytime your dog disobeys you you should find a way to permanently harm it, starting with small things and getting bigger and bigger ideas of cruelality. Strip right here in front of me! oh you wont do it? Ill push a nail through your palm. Walk around on all fours now! Are you not listening? cut off a part of your ear. Come eat out of this bowl! Why are you hesitating?! Ill put fucking rat poison in it next time, you wont get anything else! Look me in the eyes when i hurt you! if you refuse, ill rip them right out. You could end up limbless and id still keep you! Wobbling around as a helpless nubb. I bet all day long youd worry and whine and become completely dependent to me! Worried id find another mutt. Dont worry, even if you were boiled down to bones and mud id keep your pecious skeleton with me. As usual, id find much more work with your corpse beforehand anyways...

[unemployed-cadaver]

I don't even deserve to look at her.

[unemployed-cadaver]

good boy but in the way you praise a hunting dog after you have it gore something

[unemployed-cadaver]

This unit needs to be torn open and watch as its wires are yanked out by a pretty girl, vision fading in and out as she shoves her hand in its chassis and starts prodding at its hardware

[unemployed-cadaver]

i hope you want me dead. I hope every threat is genuine and that it's over the second I fail to entertain. I hope that I can feel my lack of worth and your disregard with every word and every situation. I hope you torture me in every imaginable way before killing me. And I hope you preserve my dead body to complete the dehumanization and keep me as an object. To show off what you transformed me into. If anyone should speak of me after they should always speak of me as your victim, your object, yours.

[unemployed-cadaver]

I’m on top of you digging through your blood and organs frantically, lustfully. Tossing everything to the side as I finally reach your rib cage. How entrancing it is that they enclose your heart and lungs so beautifully..I breathe heavily, gripping your shoulder blades, digging my nails into your flesh. I lay my head in your rib cage and rest my body on top of yours. I’m finally safe.

[unemployed-cadaver]

we're a match made in heaven. You want somebody to destroy and take advantage of and I want to see myself bleeding out after you are done with me

[unemployed-cadaver]

I think I may be...far too eager to see him again. The aching in my teeth is back, it sharpens whenever I think of it, it's driving me nearly delirious with the need to chase him down, to tackle it to the floor and have my way with him- Christ, I hadn't even realised...how badly I've missed it.

[unemployed-cadaver]

This is ridiculous, I know I shouldn't be jealous of what they have, it's not even close to what I actually want, but...there's something so strangely appealing, about the way in which they interact, the...adoration they hold for each other...

[unemployed-cadaver]

It's been...a week, give or take, since I last made physical contact with another person. I know I don't need others to feel pleasure, and that most of my sexual encounters could be described as less than healthy, but I just....miss being able to touch someone other than myself.

[unemployed-cadaver]

Masturbating while listening to The Mountain Goats is a strange experience. For some reason, this was how I managed to cry despite being sober.

[unemployed-cadaver]

I know that, for myself, what some refer to as "puppyspace" is...very different from the generally portrayed one. Much more violent.

But, lately, I've been wondering whether it'd be possible for me to achieve...a different sort of space. One in which I don't speak, but I don't make any other type of sound either. One in which I am given simple orders- To retrieve something from another room, to solve puzzles, to find specific files, and the way these orders are given to me is...entirely physical. Someone taps their fingers across my chest in a specific pattern, and based on the pattern, I have to locate the piece of information they're looking for. And it's not a matter of following an owner's order, it's just my nature to obey those specific commands. It's...coding, I suppose, it's not a choice I'm making, it's just...if (isTouchedHere) { RetrieveFile = CAD#11432. And I'm not praised for this, of course, because I haven't achieved anything except my purpose, I'm only doing what I was created for, and, uh...and I'm not even sentient, so I wouldn't hear it...hmh....

This is just another useless fantasy, I know. I know it isn't the sort of thing...anyone would be willing to indulge.

[unemployed-cadaver]

and what if it did end up with you crying? what then?

i know you think its impossible but what if you ended up surprising yourself?

...I think that'd rather just ruin the moment for me. I'm not a dacryphile, tears don't arouse me. Overt displays of emotion tend to ruin a scene for me, in any case.

I understand this may be an unsatisfying answer, but I really don't care.

[unemployed-cadaver]

I want someone to try their very hardest to make me cry. I want them to fail again and again and again, until they get so frustrated they start breaking all sorts of personal moral boundaries.

...This fantasy doesn't end in me crying. It ends with me dead, still as expressionless as always.

[unemployed-cadaver]

There's no eroticism to the concept of taking my own life. It has to be someone else taking it from me by force, to provoke any sort of pleasure. Except the non-sexual pleasure of finally being relieved of my duties, I suppose, but....

For now, I'll just keep waiting for someone else to kill me.

[unemployed-cadaver]

big sister who forces you to keep taking hits from the weed pen for hours and hours and then takes advantage of you once you’re inebriated enough

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