If you have murder phone sex fantasies, you are not alone. Most men harbor them; usually for a woman. My stepson has them for me. Since he was a wee boy, he has hated me because I was his father’s whore. But daddy married the whore and left the Madonna, my step son’s mother. Now, he is all grown up and his hatred is fueled by drugs and years of plotting revenge. He got in my face the other day and let off some steam. I called him a pussy who couldn’t get over the past. I didn’t realize he was high on meth. He flew into a rage, claiming he had fantasized about killing me for two decades. I told him he couldn’t kill me because pussies don’t act, they just whine and bitch. He snapped. He smacked me across the room. I tried to run, but he lunged at me, grabbed my leg and pulled me back towards him. He ripped off my clothes and set them on fire, while he tied me up. “Who is a pussy now, bitch,” he seethed. He pulled his cock out. I knew what was next. First, he pissed all over my face while laughing at me; then he fucked me. My cunt and my ass got fucked like a man with pent up rage would fuck: savagely. I was bleeding and crying. I couldn’t make him listen to me. I didn’t think he had this in him. Years of nothing but passive aggressive comments and now, I felt like he might very well kill me. He kicked me in the gut repeatedly like he was channeling A Clockwork Orange. I thought he was done, when he fell backwards on to the couch. Then he picked up the light, tightened the cord and wrapped it around my neck. Everything went dark.
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