Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. I'd like to engage you in a little conversation, well maybe confession. Do you regard yourself as a pervert? Most of us would admit some kinkiness, some flirtation with depravity. Would we be here if we didn't? But for the vast majority of us we'd tend to say we were normal, more or less. Maybe we like to look at or read about things that others might find a bit extreme, not their thing they would say, but does that make us any less a human being. You know that quote "If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? That's more or less what I thought about myself. I'm not an axe murder, sexual predator or rapist despite all the porn I've masturbated to. Then something happened to shake my foundations of who I was. It started with an email. I like to receive mail, its fun and sometimes can lead to interesting conversations for both parties. That's how I came into contact with `R' "Don't write to me unless you're prepared to be sick" she said "I'm really sick and extreme" Well, as you might guess that intrigued me. I couldn't wait to write back. But, it wasn't going to be that easy. `R' wasn't going to open up to a complete stranger without some ground rules, some pre-conditions. "I'm evil" she said "Is that what you want? Can you take it? Are you stable enough not to go off the rails?" "No" I replied " I'm fine. We can keep this thing in fantasy land. Look, if you think you're that extreme try and corrupt me" When she replied "You want me to corrupt you?" something inside, some emotion I hadn't experience before welled up. My heart beat faster, my cock twitched, my breathing deepened. What the fuck was this I wondered. Whatever it was I wanted more. My hand shook a little when I typed "Yes. I want you to corrupt me" "I will teach you to thrill to every evil act" she wrote "Every time you see or read of some awful disaster, every story of torture and death will bring you not revulsion or pity but instead an intense sexual pleasure. I will fill you with evil. Do you want that?" "Yes" I couldn't say no. I was feeling an excitement I hadn't experienced before "Do it" I said. I definitely wanted more. The next mail shocked me "You have children, don't you. You fucking hate them, don't you? Say it. Say it now. You fucking hate them" I sat frozen. That's just going a bit too far, I thought. How could I possibly say I hated my children? Then I let it sink in. It was a mind game. I let myself imagine, let the idea fester. I felt the evilness rise up. My chest felt constricted, then my cock engorged. I began to understand what opening up to these thoughts might mean. I felt a little sick, but more, I felt excited. This time my hand did shake "Yes. I fucking hate them" Before I could reconsider I tapped `send' and wondered what I'd done. A reply soon came back "Tell me the name and ages of your children" and I did. " Tell me how you will have your youngest tortured and killed" she demanded "Tell me in detail and I will tell you of the tortures I have devised for my three year old" ----------------------------------- I must consider before I continue. Perhaps you have ideas. I miss `R' for I still grave to be corrupted. Hastings117@hotmail.comDELICIOUS EVIL