My Mutilation phone sex existence is a perpetual descent into the abyss of suffering and butchering. The smell of blood and fear has become an exquisite nectar. Anguish is my perfume, an intoxicating elixir that fuels my dark desires.
In this realm of snuff, where life hangs by a thread, I have to make sure to be a really good girl. I don’t want to be the one on the chopping block. I always make myself useful for Master Daddy. I have all his favorite tools ready to go when he finds a new slut to play with.
He gets so hard when he starts slicing skin off his new toy. He likes to start with her tummy. He makes a long cut just above the belly button. Then he grabs the skin and peels it upwards so she can watch her skin getting ripped off.
Master Daddy taught me that Torture sex is an art form. Every whimper, every scream, every gurgling gasp is a brushstroke upon a canvas of suffering. I know he is God, soaked in blood with a massive hard-on that needs sucking.
As he creates new holes in that little slut I suck him. I know when he is ready to fuck when I feel his cock twitch. I pull it out of my throat and stick it in the new bloody fuck hole. He loves to cut off a bitch’s nipples and use her tits as a pussy.
Marley
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