He couldn’t look me in the eye when the conversation started. He was ashamed of the dark places his fantasies took him when he was alone and masturbating. But he couldn’t hide the huge pop tent that was growing in his pants as he got into more detail. Torture sex is what makes him cum the hardest. When he is jerking his cock, he lets his mind wonder and images of torture sex fill his mind. One fantasy has his girlfriend tied to a chair. He is circling her naked with a raging hard on his pre-cum glistening in the moonlight that is streaming in the window. She is smiling up at him unaware that his mind is filling with the horrific things he will do to her tonight. He walks over to a dresser and pulls out a rusty nail. Still stroking his dick he walks over to her and lifts her forefinger off the arm of the chair positioning the nail under her finger nail he pushes it down to the cuticle. It takes everything in him not to explode as her screams meet his ears and the fear registered in her eyes. Her begging and pleading, her declarations of love and the repeated question “why” only served to inflame his desire. He pulled the iron poker out of the fire place and walked back towards her. Tears streaming down her face, he tried to decide where he would place the first mark on her. Slowly he lifted the red hot poker to her left nipple and trembled as he listened tot he sound of her flesh searing, her deafening screams and the smell of burning flesh. That is when I stopped him. I was on the verge of cumming myself. I told him I understood how much of a turn on torture sex is and asked if he ever let himself get even darker and imagine snuff sex. The wicked smile he gave me told me everything I needed to know. He agreed to bring her to me nightlight and I agreed to help him live out his fantasy and make it a reality, on one condition, I get to watch it all and he has to fuck my wet cunt when we are done with her.
Angie
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