One of my callers asked me how I got into knife play phone sex. My love for knives is actually hereditary. My great grandparents were carnies. Yes, circus freaks. They both threw knives and swallowed them. I inherited their knife collection along with some other vintage carnival items like their morphine needle. It is great to use for subduing victims, even today. I fancy myself a knife thrower like my great grandparents. Only I am no circus freak and it is not for entertainment, well not public entertainment.
I have these stairs that lead down into my basement where I practice my knife skills on worthless humans, usually men. Just the other day I picked up this stupid guy who thought he was gonna fuck me. Really, do I look desperate and so cheap that I would go fuck some guy because he said I was pretty? I have zero tolerance for stupidity and even less for horny pervs who don’t know how to treat a woman. I told him in my basement was a love den. Yeah right, I look like I have a love den. But it got his stupid ass down those stairs. As I was following him, I injected him with my grandparents old morphine needle to incapacitate him. That shit works fast too. He got all woozy and began to stumble.
He actually fell down the last few stairs which was perfect. I then strung him up to the concrete wall where I practice my knife throwing techniques. The less they squirm or move around, the less the likelihood I will hit a major artery. Moving targets I have not quite mastered yet. While he was semi conscious, I broke out my grandparents knife throwing collection. They were all nice and sharp too. I just tried to concentrate and throw them along the outline of his body. I usually do pretty well. But this guy was fat and maybe he needed more morphine because he was not as limp as other practice playmates have been.
I told him be still or he would fuck up my aim. He started getting belligerent with me and calling me names. The fat fuck of a pervert had the audacity to call me a fat whore. So, I decided to practice with a blind fold on. My grandparents could do it. Turns out I can’t. As I was throwing blindly, I heard screams and yelps. Kind of just turned me on. No one would miss him. The more he screamed, the harder I threw and the less I concentrated on where the knife was going. I wanted to hit his flesh, impale him. I wanted to make him bleed. After I went through all the knives, all I heard was gurgling sounds. I giggled in amusement when I took my blindfold off and saw about 30 knives in his flesh. Even one dead center between his legs. I literally nailed his balls to the wall. He didn’t deserve them anyway.
I made quite a mess as it turns out. He bled out, slowly, but he did pool his blood on my floor. I kind of like the red stains on the wall, so I just cleaned the blood and sinew off the floor. I don’t really care if I never become a master knife thrower like my grandparents. I enjoy the sport of impaling flesh with sharp objects. Especially flesh on worthless pieces of shit. Are you a worthless piece of shit?
Venus
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