Category: Castration phone sex

Gothic Phone Sex Will Rip You of Your Man Hood

I am Morticia, the Gothic phone sex sadist who thrives on stripping men of their fragile masculinity. Until nothing remains but whimpering, broken boys begging for my mercy.
My latest victim arrives trembling, already half-erect from the shame of what he craves. I force him to his knees and make him recite his inadequacies while I circle him like a vulture.
“Say it louder, worm. Tell me how small your pathetic cock is.
Admit no woman has ever come from it.” His voice cracks as he obeys. The worm is a loser and I laugh—cold, cruel, echoing through the candlelit chamber.
Next, I bind his wrists behind his back with black silk cords. And they are tight enough to bruise. Then yanking his pants down, I expose that laughable little thing.
The dark fantasies start when the blood begins to pour. 
Now my gloved hand wraps around it—not to pleasure, but to squeeze until he gasps.
“This? This is what you thought could satisfy anyone?” I mock, flicking the tip with a sharp nail. He winces; I smile wider.
Next I strap the thickest, blackest dildo to my hips—the one far larger than he could ever dream of being. First, I make him suck it, choking him until tears streak his face.
“Look at you, pretending to be a man while you gag on cock like the eager slut you truly are.” 
When he’s sufficiently humiliated, I bend him over the velvet chaise and take him. Starting slow at first, then merciless, pounding until he sobs.

Pathetic Men Surrender to Gothic Phone Sex Sadistic Morticia

He’s so pathetic his own useless erection leaks helplessly onto the floor. Then I ask if he thinks his balls are empty enough now? Before he can answer I squeeze them hard. “Oh, loser I think they are,” as I run my scalpel along his little dick to his ball sack. With a trickle of blood making its way out. 
Now I whisper how worthless he is, how every thrust reminds him he’ll never measure up. When he finally spills—pathetic spurts onto my boot—I make him lick it clean. With his tongue dragging across the leather while I stroke his hair like a pet.
I live for this destruction. Every man who kneels before me, if lucky to leave on his own, will forever be marked by me.
It’s the truth I carve into his soul: he was never man enough. And he will crawl back, aching for more emasculation, because nothing feels as intoxicating as my disdain
Gothic Phone Sex

Snuff Phone Sex in the Snow is Entertainment for Me in a Blizzard

snuff phone sexThis snuff phone sex bitch found herself snowed in at her kill shack over the weekend. I went up to kill a sexual predator that I kidnapped. So at least I did not get snowed in alone. I brought somebody to play with me. And this man deserved to die. He prayed on my fellow Goth girls. Not all Goth girls seem as dominant and evil as me. But am I as evil as people think? I mean, I do take out the trash on a regular basis.

So incel type men likely view me as the devil incarnate. But many women view me as a hero. I drugged this guy Saturday night and brought him to my kill shack. It started snowing on the drive, but I didn’t want to take him home. I wanted to feed the coyotes and the bears. In this brutal winter I’m sure they struggle to find food. People think bears hibernate all winter and although they do find a place to hide, they still go out looking for food. And nature wins as the best accomplice for me.

Since I got snowed in, I found time for cock and ball torture sex. I mutilated this man’s junk. Originally, I planned on letting him live without his balls. At least that way he would never pray on another woman again. However, I wanted to feed the wilderness too. With enough blood loss in this extreme cold, he didn’t need to be completely dead when I tossed him out in my yard. He would lack the strength to get far in the middle of nowhere. The bears would smell his blood and attack.

If I Get Snowed In, I Want a Companion to Torture for Entertainment

So, I carved him up. Mutilated his cock by putting my knife in his pee hole and sliding it all the way down. I turned his dick into potato skins essentially. He cried like a bitch too. I gave him deep enough cuts, avoiding the arteries, so he would slowly bleed out. And by Monday, I hauled his ass out back and left him in the snow. And then I watched and waited with binoculars. Sort of like a macabre game. Would he survive? Doubtful. But at least I gave him a chance.

I watched him try to crawl in the snow. He left a blood trail. But he didn’t get far before I watched wolves tear him apart. Four hungry wolves, each grabbed a limb and pulled until just a torso laid dead in the snow. Each wolf got a limb. However, they left the rest of him. And about an hour or so later, I watched a bear finish him off. I assume he died from the blood loss after the wolves severed his limbs. But I like to think perhaps he still had a heartbeat as the bear devoured every ounce of him.

The sadistic phone sex bitch knows how to have fun in a blizzard. At least while snowbound, I entertained myself and fed the wildlife. All the while saving future women. Not all heroes wear capes.

Evil Phone Sex Proves Therapeutic to Me

evil phone sexSomebody told me once that I look like an angel, but I harbor an evil phone sex bitch inside of me. Perhaps that seems like a true statement. And in more recent years, I have become more confident and more dominant. I’m still a switch. However, I still feel all this rage inside of me over my upbringing. And I channel that rage into others.

Mostly women, well young girls, because men hire me for their age play needs. They understand a mature woman can lure a young girl away from her home and friends much easier than a man.

But the only woman I’ve ever felt rage for would be my mother who left me with my piece of shit father knowing he would likely abuse me the moment she left. But young girls don’t really enrage me. When I serve them up to men like my father it’s pretty much survival of the fittest. And I do it for money.

Not Every Man Wants to Keep His Balls

However, when men hire me for castration phone sex, I feel invigorated. It gives me a chance to get out some of that rage on some loser with a tiny dick and worthless balls. I never show men sympathy like I do young girls. Perhaps that’s because I can relate to the young girls because I’ve been in their shoes before. But I never identify with men who like to abuse young girls. I just keep my mouth shut and do the job they hired me for and take my money to the bank.

But recently, I discovered that I enjoy cock and ball torture. Men in the club started hiring me for the VIP room to trample their cocks or kick them in the balls. And I found it therapeutic. Perhaps, the word got around that I like cock and ball torture, and now men pay me to do a lot more than just dance on their junk.

Joe hired me to castrate him. He’s what we would call a predator. He even needs to register on the sex offender list because he got in trouble with a young girl many years ago. I view him as weak with no self-control. So, he thought he could stay out of prison, where he would be murdered for his love of young girls, if he hired me to castrate him. He might still possess the urge for young girls, but he’d never be able to act on it ever again.

Castration and Cock and Ball Torture Feel Therapeutic to Me

So, he came over last night and I castrated him. I used castration bands on him. That’s what they use for sheep and cattle on farms. Serves as a chemical castration. You put them on tight enough, and it cuts the circulation off. Eventually, the balls shrivel up and become useless. But you could also snip the balls off too with little bloodshed and just cauterize the wound. I went that route.

But I kicked him in the balls a few times for shits and giggles. Did a little dance in my stilettos on his cock. He does like cock and ball torture sex, so I made sure he got some. Clean castration. He paid me well for the removal of his balls. Minimal damage. But I did get out some much needed rage on his balls. And it felt amazing. Therapeutic. And I felt like I did a good thing because I took one more predator out of the game.

Knife Play Phone Sex is The Number One Way I Like to Kill

knife play phone sexKnife play phone sex remains my favorite. I believe a knife requires more skill than a gun. Plus, a knife kills someone slower than a gun. With a knife wound, somebody bleeds out slowly and death is not instant like a bullet through the brain. Knives rule my world.

I took a girl under my wing. A few months ago, I worked with a guy who wanted her dead. But he turned out to be quite shady and when I found out that he wanted to kill me too, I made her my accomplice instead. And she helped me kill her own uncle. I made her my trainee. I saw a lot of me in her. So, I am teaching her about knives and turning her into a taboo phone sex princess.

Although I don’t enjoy the company of very many people, occasionally I meet a young girl with potential. And I foster that evil inside of her. Some girls exist to clean house like me. In a way I’m like Dexter. I kill with a purpose. And I rarely kill anybody who doesn’t deserve to die. Now my moral compass seems less rigid than the average person, I still primarily kill those who deserve to die.

A person can enjoy killing and adhere to a moral hierarchy for killing. Top of my killing list are predators. Men and women who prey on others. Perhaps they drug their drinks or try to force them into slavery. Maybe they just attack unaccompanied women. I’ve even killed a few people for just looking at me wrong because I could tell that they wanted to force themselves on me, but I stopped them before they could.

Sometimes, I Turn a Young Girl into My Trainee and Accomplice

Predators come in all shapes and sizes like my young accomplice’s uncle. He started fucking her as a schoolgirl and when she became a young teen girl, he feared she would tell somebody. Hence why he hired me to kill her. Normally, I don’t care why somebody wants another person dead. I take the money and I do the job. However, this fucking predator tried to make me his victim too because.

So, he needed to die. And I let her use one of my knives to do it for me. And I saw that expression in her eyes when that knife penetrated him in the gut, and he started to bleed out on the floor. She smiled. And she did not show any fear or hesitation. She liked killing him. And I suspect she long wanted him dead.

Now I’m teaching her my code. And I’m instilling in her a love of knives and sharp objects. She even picked out her next victim. The schoolboy bully who forces himself on other schoolgirls after he drugs them, and films himself fucking them.

That loser fits my moral code for murder. And together, we will set a trap for him and kill him on Friday night. She’s ready and eager. I love a young killer phone sex accomplice. In my life I’ve experienced a few girls just like her. The way I see it, I’m helping to shape the future teaching young girls that they can become a killer with a moral code just like me.

Castration ass fucker strikes again

Castration phone sex

You’ve found me again, followed and stalked for your evil fuck ways. I thought I would never see your dead eyes again but you can’t stop thinking about me, the pretty blonde bitch with the great ass. A killer after dark, using me as a torture device. I love this shit and never forgot our first date. You showed me your dungeon of collected cocks you’ve taken from your victims just to take all your rage and rape fantasies out on pretty girls like me. Filming me at the same time for your sick fuck mind to look back at.

Castration cock fucker holding me hostage..

I never forgot the wall of big dead dick’s. You were so proud of all the castration and killing trying to impress a princess like myself. However, I live for the torture you perform on me. Strapping me down by my hands and feet. I’m unable to move and barely breathe. I love the fear you give me as you start spreading my legs. You’re so damn proud of your stolen obgyn table. The stirrups give you the best view of my creamy cunt ready to take some of those cut up bloody cocks. “Are you ready you little whore?” you ask. “Give it your best” I tell you.

Dr Domination and all his rage…

You gag my mouth, clamp my tits and shove a deadly broken 13inch dead BBC inside me. It feels like I’m getting rammed by sausage gone bad. Ripping, tearing and shredding my little insides. Tears running down my eyes as you look around for the next one to shove in. With two fingers in my ass and a dead dick filling my swollen red sloppy wet pussy your rapidly fuck me. I can’t move or scream, just whimpering and barely able to see. This would be such a nightmare to most girls but for me it’s sweet dark intimacy. Thrusting my hips up and down. Swirling my ass side to side. I wanna feel this deadbeat girth to the fullest.

“Squirt for me bitch”. As you go harder. Don’t temp me honey because my fresh juices will cover your face. You pull up a stool to make sure your in full view, spreading me further and further till my cervix couldn’t take it. My ass starts pumping and I can feel that cold shaft tapping my stomach. “Holy shit….”I mumble scream and cream at the same time. Just as you asked you sick fuck, I covered your evil creepy face good.

My Rape Phone Sex Fantasies Seem Vicious to Men

rape phone sex fantasiesMen do not corner the market on rape phone sex fantasies. As an evil bitch, I have them too. For women, but mostly for men. And my fantasies might not be typical. I don’t fantasize about hopping on a big dick and riding it until I orgasm. I own mechanical toys for that. My fantasies lean a tad darker.

The other night I made one of my dark fantasies come true. I fucked a predator in his ass with a strap on that I enhanced. And I bet you’re curious about what I did to that dildo aren’t you. I crushed fine glass with a rolling pin. I dipped the dildo in gorilla glue and then rolled it in the shards of glass that I made. Essentially, I turned my dildo into an ass shredder. And I made a guy my ass rape porn star.

Some Men Do Not Deserve

Although I never struggle to find assholes deserving of my anal shredding, I choose wisely. I’ve learned to fly under the radar for many years. I can sit back in any bar, watch and observe and men never notice me. Unless I want them to notice me. Usually, I hide in a dark corner where I can watch all the assholes attempting to pray on young girls by drugging their drinks. Some of these assholes do it just to get laid. Others possess more nefarious intentions.

For months, I’ve heard chatter about a tall, good-looking man, seducing young girls, drugging them, and selling them to the highest bidder online. He’s a sex trafficker. And that’s who I hunted this week. My many skills allowed me to track him and predict where he’d be. So, I enlisted the help of a young girl who fits his type. Through text messages and hand signals she followed my lead and switched the drinks. Dumb bastard didn’t see us coming. But that’s because he underestimates all women. And that’s a huge mistake.

When we got him back to my dungeon, I woke him up for the entertainment portion of the evening. We both wore that killer strap on I created and shredded his asshole a few times over. Turned his butthole into minced meat. He tried to deny the charges, but I’m also a skilled hacker and I found the site he uses to auction girls to the highest bidder. I traced it to him.

Some Men Deserve to Die for Their Crimes

 Not only did we shred his asshole, but we castrated him too. And he did not deserve clean castration. So, I used a rusty old sickle, cut them off and fed them to my dogs. The expression on his face while he watched my dogs eat his balls seemed worth it all.

We couldn’t let him live. So, we made him a snuff porn star. And we streamed it on the dark web so women could tell us what to do to him. We made the torture last for hours until he begged us to kill him. And we needed to kill him. A trafficker will not stop just because he lacks balls. This man didn’t fuck these girls. He sold them to people who would do far worse things to them. But not anymore. He died a fitting death. Tortured for hours by the very woman he tried to sell. Very fulfilling and altruistic kill.

Be My Bloody Phone Sex Valentine

bloody phone sexDo you want to be my bloody phone sex valentine. The most romantic thing a man can do for me is offer himself up for me to butcher. I don’t possess the traditional need for men that most women do. I don’t need them for my financial independence because I make my own money. And I don’t need them to fuck me because that’s why they make sex toys. Plus, I don’t need men to do things for me because I’m a capable woman who can do it all by myself.

So, the only thing men can offer me is their body and soul to destroy. Perhaps, some people might call me a succubus. Personally, I don’t mind that comparison. I’m a sick bitch. But I’m also an island who needs nobody to survive. I just like to kill simps, losers, and assholes. The world will never miss them.

For shits and giggles, I put an ad out on the dark net looking for human sacrifices. And my inbox flooded with guys wanting me to choose them. Maybe they didn’t understand what snuff porn sacrifice meant or perhaps they understand that they contribute nothing to this world and thus do not deserve to continue breathing.

I picked Eddie. And I do my research before I agree to kill anybody or kill with anybody. Stone cold killers, like me, understand the risk we take. First, I need to make sure I’m not being set up. I also like to prepare blackmail material in case somebody tries back paddle.

Some Men are Too Weak to Off Themselves, So They Call Me

Eddie lives a pathetic existence. Tons of social media accounts with very few followers. Never married. Likely still a virgin at 48 years old. No real money of his own; he inherited money from his grandpa. I even found his Tinder profile showing off his little shrimp dick. And I doubt anybody ever swipes right on him.

Couple hours of research and I determined Eddie would be my bloody valentine. He showed up at my place with a bottle of red wine and flowers. Who makes romantic gestures to the woman they paid to kill them. Dumb ass. I took my time torturing Eddie. But somebody else’s pain becomes my aphrodisiac.

I tied Eddie up spread eagle naked, of course. And then I showed him my knife collection. I carved him up with my knives. I carved loser and my initials into his flesh. And I put a castration band around his useless little balls. Plus, I even sliced his little dick off. He’s not using it anyway.

Are You Strong Enough to Be My Bloody Valentine Sacrifice?

This loser paid me $50,000 to end his life. He wanted to be my bloody valentine. And he got what he wanted. No more rejection. No more lonely existence. And no more days of wishing himself dead. He lacked the balls to kill himself, so he paid somebody to do it for him.

Perhaps he had bigger balls than he thought. Before I tossed his body to the wolves, I removed his balls as a souvenir. Castration phone sex after the fact. When you remove the balls postmortem, they do not bleed, and they stay perfectly preserved for a few hours. Just enough time for me to stick them in a jar of formaldehyde.

Eddie knew his life was worth worthless. He just took up space and air. So, he gave himself to me willingly to torture and kill. Are you strong enough to be my bloody valentine too?

Murder Phone Sex Fantasies, Women Have Too

murder phone sex fantasiesMen do not corner the market on murder phone sex fantasies. Trust me, I’ve met a few men who I wanted to strangle myself. Even a submissive, druggie whore fantasizes about killing men and sexually torturing them too.

But I’m not good in the driver seat. So, I’ve often made myself the victim to get what I need. And all I ever need is money for cocaine. However, I recently found myself in a bind. Desperate for money. But that’s nothing unusual. However, none of the normal guys willing to work with me appeared around to abuse me. The weather apparently plans to keep everybody inside. Even the demented men.

So, if I could not make a snuff sex video for money, I didn’t know what to do. I started looking at some ads on the dark net. Maybe I could find somebody new to work with. And all I found was this one little loser looking for extreme cock and ball torture. He offered a mistress $1000 to trample his dick, use a sounding device and maybe even castrate him too.

So, I figured I could pretend to be a mistress for coke money. I’ve done a few castration calls before. I don’t get them often because I am a submissive whore. However, I’m an excellent role player so I could just pretend to be a mistress. And oh my God I enjoyed this loser. But don’t worry, men, I’m still the same druggie submissive bitch you know and love. I can make a lot more money being the punching bag. A grand worth of cocaine doesn’t go far with me, not in today’s economy. So, I’m not ready to hang up my submissive hat quite yet.

Sometimes, I am So Desperate for Money I Try to Be the Mistress

But I did tear this guy’s junk up, and it felt invigorating. In my high stiletto heels, I trampled his junk and kicked him where the sun doesn’t shine many times. I used the sounding device with Ben Gay as lubrication to make it burn. And I channeled all my hatred towards a lot of these daddy Dom types into this one loser with a tiny dick. I made him cry. But usually, I’m the one crying.

Although I wanted to slice his balls off, we settled for a different type of castration. I used a castration band around his balls to cut off the circulation. And apparently, in a few days, his balls will fall off. The balls necrotize that way.

He’s been sending me pictures of his balls in various stages of decay, and they appear close to falling off. I enjoyed it. Granted I didn’t make as much money as I’m accustomed to when I’m on the other side of the abuse. But I did enjoy some extreme cock and ball torture sex with a pathetic little loser. However, guys, like I said before, I plan to stay in my lane. Being on the other end of the punching bag makes me far more money.

Knife Play Phone Sex is My Specialty So Don’t Try to Fuck Me, Loser

knife play phone sexKnife play phone sex is my specialty. Yet every day I get several idiots calling me for vanilla shit like the girlfriend experience. Some men even want me to be their mommy. Do I look like somebody’s fucking mom. I hate brats. No way will I ever be a wife or a mother. And no way will I ever be some basic bitch specializing in the girlfriend experience. Some idiot Instant messaged me this week wanting me to be his submissive little daughter with a cum filled pussy for daddy. I wanted to slit his throat right then and there.

I like knives. And I’m always in control. I’m not your daughter, your girlfriend or your wife. And you’re not my boyfriend, my husband or my son. You can be my victim or my accomplice. But nothing else. Do not ask me to roleplay some lame shit. I’m on a snuff site because I’m a dark sadistic bitch. And my favorite thing to do in this world is castrate losers, and dumb fucks as well as stab, cut up and mutilate all genders with a big fat sharp blade.

Richard hired me recently as his accomplice. He told me he wanted to go hunting for something young and sweet and tender that would feel super tight on his cock. So, the first day we met, we went window shopping so I could get an idea of what he wanted. And then the next night, I got him the perfect girl. I don’t know what the fuck he thought he paid me 50 grand for, but this fuck face acted shocked that I brought him a young girl to fuck and slaughter afterwards.

Sometimes Men Die Simply Because They Are Idiots

You don’t pay somebody that much money for their company. You pay that much money to make a teen rape porn. And you pay that much money so you can enjoy your fun without the fear of going to prison because your accomplice keeps you safe. But when he changed his tune, I let the girl go. However, not before I told her about his intentions. And that the only reason she ended up in this little kill shack was because he wanted to do bad things to her. And I gave her my knife.

I would guess this girl appeared to be in her young teens. Pretty girl and just the type he likes. But I couldn’t let him live. And I could only let her live if she committed a crime, so I could control her. She seemed to know what she wanted to do. She lunged at him and stabbed him right in the gut. I think this girl might like horror movies. Once the knife plunged straight into his belly button, she yanked it all the way up to the sternum, then back down and his guts and entrails literally spilled on the floor. She stood there in awe and amazement over what she did to him.

Although I Hate Brats, Sometimes I Meet

Now I think I could be a mother to a girl like that. No hesitation. No guilt. And at that moment she knew what she needed to do to survive. She never fucking hesitated. As he lay there bleeding out on the floor, trying to push his insides back where they belong, I instructed her to slice of his cock and his balls off, and shove them in his mouth. She giggled but did it quickly and happily.

Because I like this girl, I gave her half the money he paid me. And I told her to keep it a secret from her parents as well. What occurred in that cabin stays in that cabin. Then I drove her back to where I nabbed her from. I trust her. She won’t say a word because she liked the kill too much. I saw a lot of me inside of her. Although it is true, I’m not a fan of brats, every now and then I meet a young schoolgirl who I mentor. And I think I just found my new snuff sex mentee.

Necrophilia Phone Sex : The Best Kind of Graveyard Fun

My Necrophilia phone sex dungeon reeks of mildew, blood, and decaying flesh. No doubt this air is thick enough to choke and gag. Here I am found, straddling a man’s shattered chest. With my dress hiked up, bare cunt grinding down onto his blood-smeared sternum. This is foreplay.

It’s his weakening heartbeat pulses against my swollen clit like a dying drum, sending jagged spikes of pleasure through my body. As I rock slowly at first, then harder, my slick folds smearing crimson streaks across his skin as arousal floods my dripping hot and slick juices down his sides.

Now I need more and my scalpel bites into his collarbone, carving jagged spirals splitting flesh with crimson streaks. Blood erupts in thick pulses. I then greedily scoop it up. With my fingers plunging into the wound before thrusting them deep into my throbbing pussy.

Three digits now, curling viciously inside me, and hooking against my G-spot. All while the metallic warmth coats my insides.

Each savage stab of the blade makes him convulse. These spasms rock my hips, forcing my fingers deeper, as my inner muscles clenching in rhythmic ecstasy around the intrusion.

Deeper cuts follow—gouging into his abdomen, peeling back layers of muscle in ragged flaps, exposing quivering organs slick with gore. His body bucks in agony, the violent jerks slamming up into her cunt like involuntary thrusts. Hungrily I ride the torment, free hand clawing at my own tits.

While my nails raking my nipples until they bleed, mixing my pain with his in a symphony of ruin.

Immediately, fingers piston faster inside my, blood-lubed and relentless, hole stretching wider as orgasm mounts.

Now I revive him with ammonia’s sharp bite, eyes locking on his terror-glazed stare. And I mount his face.

Necrophilia Phone Sex  Makes Me Shudder with Ecstatic Convulsions of Bliss

My blood soaked lips seal over his mouth and nose, suffocating him in my musky heat. His feeble tongue lashes out in panic, flicking against my clit. As I grind down mercilessly, forcing it deeper into my pussy folds while blood from his wounds slickens me more.

Then his drowning desperation vibrates through me. His final gurgles humming against my sensitive nerves like a twisted vibrator.

Continually I grind and fuck his dying face. And I do so with abandon, hips slamming, cunt contracting in brutal waves as climax erupts. Leaving a torrent of squirt gushing over his face, flooding his throat, and drowning him.

Finally dismounting on trembling legs, thighs coated in mingled fluids, I raise the sledgehammer. Wildly, swings crash down—knees exploding in bone shards. His arms pulverized to pulp. Lastly, his skull caving with a wet, final crunch that sprays gray matter across my calves.

Then aftershocks ripple through my pussy, clit still pulsing, as I stroke the jar’s glass. Leading me into gazing at the preserved cock within, already aching to claim the next victim.

Ultimately, Morticia thrives in the fusion: orgasm born of obliteration, violence as the ultimate aphrodisiac.

Necrophilia Phone Sex

The altar demands more. Hail Satan