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Bitch In The Red Dress

Have you ever wanted to literally rip someone’s heart out? Sure you have…I know you have…there was a girlfriend, a coworker, a relative, a friend…at some time in your life. The kind of person who you may have cared about at one time, or have hated eternally. But in some way, the pendulum swung and you hated that bitch’s fucking guts. So much, that you felt you could thrust your hand inside of the innermost part of them, and squeeze the life away…

Maybe strip her nice and naked. I know you can’t resist your dick straining against the front of your pants. You can see those pointy tits poking through the thin fabric of her silky dress…you wanna rip it off of her and spread those legs wide open. Wanna play, baby? I mean, look at that beautiful skin…it’s so soft. So smooth…so unblemished. Let’s light some matches and burn her eyelids off. 

I bet she’s gonna scream like a banshee and beg for release. Maybe, instead of tying her up, you should give her that release. Take your dick and pound her cervix wide open. Let the blood gush out…Wanna make some art? I’d love to see you carve some demonic symbols in her chest before we snuff her out.

One for The Money

There’s this skank I know who doesn’t understand how to keep her piehole shut. She’s been causing a lot of shit to hit the fan running that mouth of hers, so I decided to use it for something useful–making me money. How many dicks can you fit down the throat hole of an annoying little twat? Mmmm, baby, let’s find out.

I’ll get the scissors and we can cut a nice, neat little slit right across that little bitch’s tummy. Everyone loves a nice pussy hole, asshole, and of course a tight, wet pink throat hole–but I’ve got a bigger plan. How would you like to whip that rock hard cock right out of those pants, baby . . . take it in your hand and grasp that boner while it twitches. Feel the heat radiating off of it in droves and picture pumping it in and out of this stupid fuckcunt. 

I’ll sell this whore out and get her nice and used up, so by the time I’m ready to snuff her out, she’s made me mounds of cash. It won’t be hard to get her to the area where she’ll spend the next weeks of her life as a living cumdoll. I’ll just sprinkle a ‘lil something-something in her drink to keep her nice and compliant while she’s fucked up and creamed in. Such a stupid cunt . . . she’ll regret crossing me, that’s for sure. I’m gonna mess that bitch the fuck up.

I’M INto CHoking your life And RaidinG your pEace of mind

Wanna know what gets me wet? Seeing the fingerprint imprints my hands make as I’m squeezing the breath out of your slimy throat. I like watching the abrasive red splotches darken to deep purple bruises as a result of my handiwork. It takes serious skill to stop the convulsing long enough to get a good knee kick into the underside of a fucking guy’s chin. An elbow across the forehead will split apart the skin . . . and as the blood is pouring out of the slash in his head, I’m doing an uppercut with my fist connecting all the pieces. It brings a smile to my face every time I see it. Maybe someday I’ll be a good little girl and pray before dinner, but for now, if you’re gonna fuck with me, be prepared to fear it…

TrailBLAZING

Alright you sick, P-cock perverts . . . you wanna know where to find the best slabs of fuckmeat? There’s a bike route that runs through the woods here in Jackson. The twisted, gnarled tree limbs hang low, reaching out with their spindly branches to grab those miniature bitches as they walk past. We’ll be waiting to grab them too, won’t we baby? I have a great plan for those little slut dolls. We’ll play whack-a-mole with their three tight holes, and then we’ll take turns stabbing the bitches with torn-off tree branches. If we have to, we can sharpen the wooden edges on our victims’ teeth. Who cares if they’re whittled down to enamel-stripped stubs by the time we’re done with ’em? They’ll never be tasting another one of their Girl Scout cookie again . . . and instead, those naked, young human snickerdoodles are our treats to devour. Use your dick–and stick it in deep. If their cervixes aren’t gushing blood, and I can’t see it spouting out like a twisted fucking fountain, you aren’t pounding that baby pussy hard enough. It’s time to get walking, baby. We’ve got to catch up with these Girl Scouts and show them just how delicious they are for us . . . 

Murder Phone Sex Fantasies Bianca goin’ dumpster diving…

I’ve never been one for suffocation. I much prefer a more . . . hands-on method. Can’t blame me, really. I’m a sick, twisted slut for feeling of  life leaving another at my hands is just too fucking hot to pass up. So of course I decided to use my talents for the greater good of society. I do that sometimes . . . kill for the benefit of others. Life is too short for selfishness. I went to church today–bet you won’t believe me, but I did. Church of Satan, maybe, but it’s a place of worship nonetheless. Don’t judge me for my beliefs, and I won’t judge you for yours. Because I know your dick is just hard and ready to slam into a little tiny underage twat, now isn’t it? Don’t lie, baby. We both know your P-cock is ripe and begging for a nice, young tight hole to ram and rip apart. Well I found a guy who sliced, diced, and fucked his way through an entire school of girl cunnies. And I found him in an alley, shooting up tar. Track lines down his forearms, a dazed look in his eye . . . you know the type–trash. Well my public service involved taking out the trash with a 9mm pistol. Didn’t shoot him in the head though–that’d be too quick. Instead, I splintered the tendons of his Achilles heel and ripped the rest apart with my teeth. Mmmmmm. Maybe he had a blood infection, though. I’ll have to check myself when I get home. The thought just pissed me off further, so I rammed his head against the dumpster and fucked that dick up. The space inside of that dumpster was his final resting place . . . isn’t that where trash belongs? 😉

Down South

Where have I been, you may be asking yourselves. Well I don’t have to answer to you motherfuckers! I went to a concert in Mobile, Alabama and got fucking turned around because the goddamn toll both stiffed me a dollar twenty-six. Are you fucking shitting me?! That stupid ass bitch stole from Bianca. So I was all enraged and ready to twist a neck off when I realized I was going the wrong way. The hell? Turns out I was in some redneck dive called Pascagoula. I crossed the state lines . . . I know what you’re thinking, so shut your damn trap. It’s an evil, sick ass place. Just because it’s bumfuck Mississippi doesn’t mean they’re gonna hand you sweet tea in a mason jar or some shit like that. Fuck that! It’s a wild ass neighborhood. Most of the citizens consider the day wasted if they haven’t violated a goat by noon. It’s sickeningly dark there. One wrong turn, and you’ll wind up in the trunk of a Cadillac, never to be seen or heard from again. So of course I took this opportunity to explore. I headed straight for the Brass Monkey. It might as well be called The Drunk Asshole Bar, because the company was wicked! When I was leaving, I spotted a guy trying to break into my car. Not. fucking. okay. I reached for the crowbar I keep in my purse and bashed him in the fucking head. He grunted and fell to the cement. I just kept beating and smashing the metal bar into his skull until it exploded with red goo and I kicked him aside, slid into my vehicle, and drove away. Byebye Mississippi. I don’t have to fear any thing or any place. You fuckers fear ME.

Cunt Watering Again . . . for REVENGE

I am such a selfish twat. I want what I want. Think that’s not fair? Then try to take it from me, motherfucker. I’ll have your dick strung up to the ceiling to hang like a depressed kitty cat cunt. Your left ball sack will be severed and shoved down your throat in a millisecond. Ever had your eyeball gouged out with a rusted spoon and sewed midway into your snout hole so that you’re choking on your own black bile? Yesterday’s piggy pie doesn’t taste nearly as good coming up the wrong way, baby. I warn the people in my life well enough and very often. I tell them not to mess with me. If they don’t listen, it’s their own funeral.

My good friend Jerry missed this little memo, I’m afraid. He came around yesterday looking for some ‘apples.’ Produce dealers like me know exactly what kind of rough, evil shit this translates into. PCP is the devil’s handiwork, let me tell you. Angel dust might as well be evil incarnate. I’ve seen some stupid goddamn fools fuck themselves up on that shit. You could very well find it reasonable to saw off your own fucking leg.

Anyway, Jerry decided he was HORNY and that my pert little ass looked like a tasty treat for him to munch on. Little did he know, putting the moves on me in a non-consensual way is a very, very bad idea. It took me quite awhile to clean up the mess he made. You see, I had to take my baseball bat and bash his skull into the ground until it splintered and cracked. I think I might’ve gotten a little peek at his brains–if he ever had any at all–but otherwise, I made a nice meat stew out of his head.

Then I went around back and fed it to my new doggie. That’s right. I’ve got a new Great Dane. Her name’s Cat. She’s no pussy, though. She’s a hunting hound the size of a fucking horse. Her favorite food just so happens to be human, too. She’ll finish off my leftovers very nicely. Bianca’s Body Farm is back up and running, motherfuckers. Cum at me. I dare you. You’ll find yourselves fucked up and stuck inside of a blender the size of a big ass puppy dog’s jaws. Seriously, I am one skinny ass bitch you don’t want to piss off. You’ve been warned.

you taste like . . . A debased Angel . . .

There’s something so erotic about my special collection of deformed bodies and violated carcasses. Guess what, baby? Bianca has been building her Body Farm, and if you ask real nicely . . . I might just let you have a little taste. So what are your vices? Would you like the Grandmother, still clutching her yarn ball in one hand, and the rotting, decaying flesh of her dearly departed husband’s ball in the other hand? Her dress is torn and exposing her crotchless panties. Such a dirty old bitch . . . she wants it bad. Or will you take her young little granddaughter whose eyes will forever stay frozen in terror? She’s such a sweet little thing. Never knew what was cumming to her until her throat was slit with a box cutter and her lips were sliced off and stitched back onto her own asshole. She was always such a brown-nosing little sycophant. Now she’ll be kissing ass for the rest of her . . . afterlife! Hahaha.

.
.
Satan came to me
tonight

smoothly slithered
next to my bedside

and whispered

“I am the twisted shepherd”

the father of darkness
here i’ve
scripted a letter

of the artist
i wish you to harness
then

bring me his carcass..

Yes Master
i’m disaster starved

i’m on a mission
to position

this King in plastic

But first
i wanna fuck him

nothin like
a big stiff dick

climb on top
rock the dead cock

til i get off

See i’m kinda
sick in the head

my thoughts are fed
by

cravin the dead..

my pretty baby in blue
you look so

beautiful breath.less

You taste like
a debased angel

tell me
how does it feel?

~~Devilish~~

CSI Porn

CSI Porn — Narcissus Narcosis

Uh oh, this gal’s high again
just hit the weed, ate 3 Valium and 2 Vicodin;
Look like Dr. House, stumbling around my living room
fell off the couch, broke a shelf and cracked the ceiling too.
I’m feeling doomed, haven’t even started drinking yet
nervous wreck, when will all this pressure start to break my neck?
Pissed at everyone, thinking about grabbing a pistol
a knife with no handle, some razor blades and my Ginsu;
and coming to get you, find you where you sleep
grab something to eat in your house, 
slitting your throat and fleeing the scene.
I’m hopeless, see? I’ve got nothing left to live for.
Get bored and choke myself to death with a 16-inch extension cord.
So be forewarned, I will leave you deformed
beyond the norm
looking like a CSI porn

You better lock all your windows and barricade the front door, because I’m getting wet just thinking ’bout making a mess. With your face on the floor, and my boot on your head…

Why don’t you undress, and I’ll administer a test. Let’s see how long you can breathe while your throat’s full of hash. I’m gonna make sure the rope is nice and tight too. Wouldn’t want you to accidentally get some air. Ah. That’ll do. Nice and intricately tied. A spider web weaved that you’ll fall into…

See–it all starts here, and it’ll end here for you.

blood for the chosen 1

That shit you’ve heard? It’s true. Sometimes I get a little low. And I never stay that for long . . . you see, I’m rarely ever sober. So when I’m without the effects of my beloved drink and drugs, I live in a perpetual state of wild rage. Anger boils in my heart when that little girl on the park swing looks over at me. I’m just conducting my business, goin’ about my fucking life, and I intercept a happy-go-fucky parade. Oh, just my pissing luck. I fucking hate society, the human race, and anyone with a tacky goddamn smile on their lying face, just begging me to rub it off with the heel of my combat boot. That’s how I was feeling when a little runt bumps into me and spills her snow cone all over my top. I couldn’t let it go, I just couldn’t. I had to slit her throat and watch the blood bubble up from her lungs like gurgling butterflies caught in the net of her esophagus. It was beautiful. I clung to her like a lifeline as I watched the inner strength fade away from her. She was draining her own memories, her own past, losing her future at my hands. My grasp…’round her neck. The blood on my hands was so red and vivid it made me do a double take. I couldn’t believe it. I needed more…so I took it. I lowered my head and began to drink. I licked it up like her fading life energy was my salvation. And when I dropped her motionless, wet body to the pavement below, I realized the ice of the snow cone was stained red, too. I didn’t know if it was the cherry flavoring or the blood I had spilled, but nevertheless, I’d smeared that white beyond repair…