I was sitting at camp when I started to feel a little lonely. It's been about a week since the last time I saw someone, and I have enough food and supplies here to last me another three. I'm currently setup deep in Sabine National Forest, off of an abandoned scretch of service road where I saw an old trail just wide enough for my car to fit. I got stuck in mud twice and scratched the paint up pretty good, but fortunately I'm quite resourceful and cosmetics are the least of my worries.

Despite the taste of tannin, the pond water is still perfectly safe to drink and cook with after specialized filtration. I didn't know how much propane I would need, so I picked up a couple cannisters and packed a crate with ready canned goods just in case. I'm not necessarily a fan of canned meat, so a little hunting might help later on to pad my nutrition. The silencer should help to avoid being noticed by any other potential hunters nearby.

The truth is that I thought I might get lonely, which is why I brought my leather box of sex toys and bondage equipment with me before I took off. Some sadists enjoy their victim's cries of pain and the smell of blood, but I never quite understood it, and I suspect a badly injured captive would be nothing but a liability anyway if I intended to keep them for an extended period. No, what I miss the most is reading all my victim's little emotions as I violate them; the hopelessness, the humiliation, the trauma, and every stage of fear and grief in between. A little pain is okay as a supplement to sexual abuse, but in my experience too much can easily become a distration from the finer factors of their own psychological torment.

Just to be clear, this isn't intended for online roleplay. I'm STD-free and got a vasectomy two years ago, with medical documentation upon request. I'm retired and have enough money to carry on indefinitely.