Snuff sex Cassandra is my handle in a few fetish online chat rooms I belong too. It is because I have fantasies about dying. Some of my fantasies are inspired by my callers. I have some sick twisted regulars. One of my most creative callers recently did a call with me that had me bragging in one of the chat rooms about wanting to die in just such a fashion. He was a mad scientist of sorts creating new drugs. Killer drugs. I was a sex slave thus he could legally test his drugs on me like I was a lab rat. I woke up strapped down with him injecting his drug into me. When I protested he reminded me I was a sub human. I asked questions. I wanted to know what was going to happen to me, but he was vague with the details. He shot a needle in my arm. Nothing happened. When he hooked up an industrial sized vibrator to my pussy, I thought this was like a female enhancement trial. No such luck for a blonde bimbo slave. It was a death drug. When I came, my heart would stop beating. Death by orgasm. A hot and terrifying concept. I tried not to cum. I tried to think of horrible things so I wouldn’t cum. I couldn’t. I am a pain slut. I am a snuff porn junkie. I resisted for as long as I could but the intensity was too strong. I came. I felt my heart seizing up like some one was on the inside squeezing it. Within minutes of cumming, I was dead. Wouldn’t it be great to die by orgasm? Sure, your dead, but what a way to go. If you want to snuff me, which I know you do, make me cum to death.
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