Many men harbor violent phone sex fantasies. And in my experience those violent fantasies keep increasing. I think the crazier the world gets the more stressful men feel. And men work through stress with violent fantasies. They either want to kill someone, force fuck someone, or beat the crap out of someone. However, men are not the only ones with those fantasies. Sometimes I want to throat punch a bitch.
As a sexy switch, I’ve been on both sides of the violence. But now I’m spoiled as the accomplice. So, I prefer to help you with your violent fantasies than be on the other end of your fist. Usually, men hire me as the accomplice when they want to fuck something young and tender. And a few women have hired me to assist them with a violent boyfriend, or husband. Yet other times, I just help a bitch out because she needs the help.
When I went to the club last night, I already felt at my wits end. Just one of those days that steamrolled me. One annoying little mishap after another. And I wanted to throat punch somebody. Then this douche bag walked into the club. Total loser. We hate this guy.
He managed to get himself blocked from the club for a year and I really don’t understand why the owner let him back. He’s somewhat of a local celebrity. But everybody knows he gambled away most of his fortune. Now he comes into the club and expects free shit, including lap dances because of who he was 30 fucking years ago.
Some Days, You Just Do Not Want to Fuck with Me
He gave one of my new girls shit. More shit than he usually gives. Not the day to fuck with me, I told him. He spit on me. And in my face too. That was all I could take. Killer phone sex rage consumed me. So, I kicked him hard enough in the balls that he fell to his knees. And then I started punching. Me, a blonde bimbo in stripper heels. I do yoga and Pilates. I don’t bench press my weight. But so much rage came out of me that I didn’t realize how hard I punched him in the face.
The stripper looked at me mortified because I was coated in this loser’s blood. Oops. I didn’t kill him. Not in the club at least. The bouncer helped me take him out to the alley. He’s helped me in situations like this before. So, I got into the van with the bouncer, avoiding the cameras, and we took him to the middle of the woods.
The bouncer gave me a baseball bat and told me to treat him like I was in a rage rooms. The bouncer encouraged me to murder this guy because he knew this guy well enough to know I would end up in prison for assaulting him. And the club might close too.
A Woman Is Capable of Extreme Violence Too
Fuck my life. My day just kept steam rolling out of control. I wouldn’t survive one day in prison. So, I took that baseball bat and completely crushed his skull. In fact, his brain matter splattered all over me. I felt bad because I made my bouncer an accomplice to my crime. I didn’t premeditate this. But I knew what kind of mood I was in. And I should’ve restrained myself. But once he spit in my face, I went off like a powder keg.
I guess I’m just as capable of impulsive violent tendencies as a man. This marked the first time I killed somebody not in self-defense. Or being paid as an accomplice. Don’t get me wrong. I’m no saint. I’ve helped men do some very awful things to young girls. But rage murder? This felt like a first.
But I admit how good it felt. I’m not saying this guy deserved snuff sex, but he’s not a good human being. Nobody’s going to miss him except for maybe his bookies. But I did discover that I am just as capable of violent rage as most of my callers and clients. So, men, don’t piss me off. I’ve got a taste for blood now and I think I like it.
Cassandra SPS
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